Not long ago, Theo had looked in the eye and told the man would need a few months to recover. Now he was dead. I had always trusted Theo’s judgnt completely he was precise, controlled, never sloppy. He had been sent to teach a lesson, not to end a life. Which ant soone else had gotten there after him.
Whitney was still in the middle of her na change when the police arrived. The process wasn’t complete yet, though Lewis had already found soone to push the paperwork through faster. She had been using the Morrigan residence as her registered address, and the na Camilla Morrigan had too much of Wisteria’s shadow on it so Whitney had chosen sothing new. Starling Morrigan. A na that was entirely hers. That was why Nelson had co straight to the Morrigans’ door, and because we had known each other long enough, he took the ti to walk us through it properly rather than just issuing a summons.
Whitney’s voice was steady when she asked, "How did he die?"
"His limbs were severed. His head is missing."
Even after everything I’d witnessed over the past year, those words hit my stomach like a fist. I gagged before I could stop myself.
Whitney and Lewis both turned toward imdiately.
"I’m fine," I said, and forced myself to an it.
Nelson’s expression was careful. "The thod bears a strong resemblance to Ms. Elena’s own murder case. The sa level of brutality, the sa deliberate staging. We’ve opened an investigation and need everyone present at the earlier altercation to co in and assist."
"We’ll all go," I said. "Lewis and I were both there."
Nelson couldn’t share much in the open, but I wanted to be inside that station. The timing of this death was too clean, too convenient. And the way it had been done that kind of savagery wasn’t random. It had a signature. It had Bloodshade written through it like a thread.
At the station, we gave our statents one by one. Luther was finishing his own when we arrived composed, unhurried, explaining that he had only dislocated the man’s arm and imdiately reset it, which left nothing actionable. We exchanged a brief nod and went our separate ways.
Theo, thankfully, had been careful. He had kept well away from every cara when he dealt with the man afterward. The victim had visible injuries, yes, but without footage there was no clean line of evidence to follow, and Nelson knew it.
Before we left, Nelson pulled Lewis and aside quietly.
"This keeps circling back to the Morrigans, and I don’t think it’s coincidence. Elena’s case is still open. Now this." He looked at directly. "Mr. Hale please keep her close. I’m starting to think whoever is behind this may have her in their sights."
"Thank you, Captain," Lewis said. "Has there been any movent on the organ trafficking investigation?"
Nelson gave a short nod. "We’re working on it."
Our group walked out into the afternoon light, and I noticed Whitney was sowhere far away behind her eyes. I nudged her gently. "This has nothing to do with you. Don’t let your mind go there."
She started to say sothing, then stopped herself and shook her head. "It’s nothing. I’m probably overthinking."
"Skip class tonight. Rest."
"I’m fine, Elena. It’s one isolated case. You’re the one who’s pregnant you should be the one going ho." She gave a look that left no room for argunt.
"Call if anything feels off," I said.
Seeing Vivian waiting at the door of the residence when we dropped Whitney off helped ease the tension in my chest. She wasn’t alone. I let myself be reassured by that as we pulled away.
In the car, I leaned into Lewis’s side. "Carl, do you think they’re targeting us directly?"
"Hard to say yet."
I sat up suddenly. "What if Vito is alive? What if he survived the shipwreck and this is him going after soone who hurt Whitney?"
A thod that brutal, that deliberate it felt like it ca from sowhere personal. It felt like it ca from that organization.
Lewis’s expression darkened. "If Amber and the others were safe, they would have found a way to reach by now." He said it quietly, but I heard what was underneath it. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted soone from the Blackwells to simply appear out of nowhere and prove we’d panicked over nothing.
"Then who?" I asked.
"I haven’t seen the scene. I need to get the evidence and photos before I can say anything useful." He looked at . "For the next few days stay ho. Don’t go out for anything. Whatever happens, you wait for ."
"Alright," I agreed, and ant it this ti. I was tired in a way that went all the way through . My body wanted a bed and nothing else.
..
When we got ho, I found the small comfort I hadn’t known I needed: our kitten darting across the yard after a butterfly, completely absorbed, completely unbothered by the weight of the world. I stood and watched her for a mont and felt sothing loosen.
A housekeeper appeared from the side of the house carrying a box. "Mrs. Hale, this arrived for you."
"Just set it down. It’s probably the cat bed I ordered."
A few days ago I had fallen down an online shopping spiral at two in the morning and bought an absurdly soft-looking cat bed without much deliberation. In my past life I had always loved the small ritual of opening packages the tearing of tape, the rustling of packaging, that particular anticipation before you saw what was inside. It had been a long ti since I’d had anything to look forward to like that. Sothing ordinary and harmless and mine.
"Should I open it?" the housekeeper offered.
"No, I want to do it myself."
The kitten imdiately ca to investigate, sitting at a suspicious distance from the box with her ears forward and her tail curled around her paws.
"Relax," I told her, crouching down and scratching behind her ears. "I’ll get you proper food next ti. For now let’s see what we’ve got "
I flipped open the box flap.
"Ah!"
"Elena!"
Lewis was across the yard in seconds, having dropped everything the mont he heard cry out. I had stumbled backward several feet, my legs refusing to hold properly. He caught before I went down completely, one arm locking around my back.
"What happened? Are you hurt?"
I couldn’t speak. I raised one trembling hand and pointed at the box.
Lewis looked at Theo. Theo picked up a stick and lifted the other half of the lid.
Inside, sitting on a tray, was a human head.
The face was pale and blood-spattered. His glasses were still on. His eyes were open and frozen mid-terror, staring directly upward directly at . The head had been kept cold for so ti before being packed, because there was no fresh blood when the box was first opened. But the warmth of the air was already doing its work. A thin layer of frost was dissolving across his face, and as it lted, blood began seeping from every opening slow, dark, unstoppable.
The world tilted.
And then it went black entirely.
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