“No shit.” Nicholas let out an impressed grunt. “She’s probably just some gutsy human with more courage than brains. You said there was a boy involved. A lot of people can do amazing things when there’s a child at stake.”

“Maybe, but something tells me there’s more to it than that.” He wasn’t about to tell Nicholas that he’d bargained with Logan to hunt her down, and that he knew she was blooded, at the very least. Most of the Theronai were suspicious of the Sanguinar, even though their races were currently at peace with each other. His bargain was binding and not the kind of thing that would go over well with the other men at the compound. It tied him to the Sanguinar and made him a liability if that peace didn’t hold.

“More? Like what?” asked Nicholas. “We’d know if she was one of ours. She’d have been wearing the ring of the Gerai. Did you see one?”

“Maybe she forgot to put it on, or maybe it was out being resized.” The excuses sounded ridiculous even to his own ears.

“Or maybe she just did one hell of a snow job on you and she really is a Dorjan. Tell me you didn’t let her get away before you could question her or at least put a bloodmark on her.”

“She had to get the boy to a hospital. Madoc got her license plate number. She won’t get far.”

“What’s her name?”

“Andra Madison. Nebraska plates.” He gave Nicholas her plate number.

Paul heard a quick series of keystrokes and waited for Nicholas to do his magic. He had access to more information—both human and Sentinel—than any other man alive.

A few seconds later, Nicholas let out a soft whistle. “She’s not hard to find, that’s for sure. The woman’s name is plastered all over the newspapers. She’s a finder of lost children—one of those people that parents hire when their kid goes missing and the police and FBI can’t help. Apparently, she’s pretty good at it, too. So good that the police have a tag on her name to keep an eye out for her. It looks like they think she might actually be behind some of the kidnappings.”

“Because they can’t find the kids, but she can,” guessed Paul.

“Sounds about right. Says here that she only takes certain cases.”

“Can you get a sense for what kind of cases she takes?” asked Paul.

A few more quick keystrokes and a moment of silence followed before Nicholas said, “Paul, my man, I think we’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

“You’ve found yourself a bona fide Synestryn hunter. A human one with no connections to or support from any of the Sentinels as far as I can tell. Which means—”

“Which means I’d better get to her fast or she’s going to walk into a situation that might get her killed.” Paul had no more time to waste. He forced himself to his feet.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” said Nicholas. Paul heard someone talking in the background; then Nicholas lowered his voice so Paul could barely hear it. “You’re not going to believe who just walked in.”

“Who?”

“Hold on a sec. She wants to talk to you. I’ll text you that address.”

There was a scratching sound as Nicholas handed the phone to someone; then a voice came on the line. It was high and childlike but imbued with an unmistakable air of command. Sibyl. The only one among his people gifted with the ability to see into the future. When she spoke, everyone listened.

“Theronai,” said Sibyl. “We must speak.”

Paul barely hid his shock. She’d spoken to him twice in the past century, including now, and both of those times had been within the last month. Surely so much attention from her couldn’t be a good thing. “Yes, my lady.”

“You’ve found her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Her? Do you mean Andra?”

“Andra,” she said slowly, as if suddenly recognizing the name. “Yes. Andra. Bring her to me.”

Paul debated whether or not to let Sibyl know that although he’d found her, he’d lost her once again. He’d definitely find her, but it might take a little time. He hedged, saying, “I’m not sure she’s going to want to go along with me.”

“Then bind her. Render her unconscious. Do what you must, but bring her to me.”

“May I ask why?”

“I . . . need her.”

“For what?” asked Paul. As much as he respected Sibyl and her gift, he wasn’t about to lead Andra into something ugly.

“Do as you are told, Theronai.” Her pure child’s voice rang with an odd kind of power that made the hair on his nape stand on end.

“I can’t right now. She’s not with me.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Find her. Bring her. Today. Should you fail, the repercussions shall be . . . unfortunate.”

That didn’t sound good. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised. The power of that promise wrapped around him as he was bound to his word, making it hard to breathe for a moment.

“See that you do. Her presence is vital. For both of us.”

The line went dead and Paul shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Good news, I take it,” said Madoc.

“Same ol’, same ol’. Can you drive?”

“Always. Where are we going?”

“To find Andra and bring her back to Sibyl.”

“No shit? Sibyl?”

“Yep.”

Madoc shook his head. “Great. If that moppet is getting involved, things can’t be good.”

Chapter 3

It took Andra more than three hours to get Sammy reunited with his parents and convince the authorities that whoever had taken him was long gone by the time she found him. She gave them the only story she could: She had no clue who the kidnapper was, and if she remembered anything new, she’d be sure to let them know.

She hated lying to the police, but it was better than being locked up in a seventy-two-hour psych hold. Again. Crazy did run in families. Thank God no one knew about Nika.

She gave the police the address of the warehouse, knowing that by the time they got there, the sun would have done a thorough job of burning away the remains of the monsters they had killed. Other than scorch marks in the floor, there would be no evidence left that the boy had been stolen by furry, clawed monsters.

Synestryn demons. That was what those men had called them.

Usually putting a name to something made it less frightening, but not in this case. Just knowing that the things were so common they had a name was enough to scare the spit out of her. She didn’t let herself think about it, because no matter how tired she was, something like that would roll around in her head, making sleep impossible.

And right now, she needed sleep more than anything. Her body was on the verge of going on strike. Everything ached, and her head felt like she’d had a fog machine shoved into one of her ears. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, her legs would just give out and refuse to propel her forward anymore. She’d been to that not-even-one-more-step point before and it wasn’t pleasant. She had maybe another few minutes before she reached it again. At that point, wherever she was, that was where she’d sleep.

Maybe her dreams would be nice for a change—filled with manly, sword-wielding warriors and their pretty-boy vampire buddy. She could work with that imagery. And she was a sucker for a man who liked kids. Paul had put serious effort into saving Sammy from a life of screaming lunacy, and whatever he’d done had worked. Sammy was all smiles and hugs by the time she handed him into the loving arms of his mother. It was as if nothing had happened to him.

Maybe Paul could somehow help Nika, too.

Then again, maybe she was just fooling herself. When she got this tired, her instincts weren’t trustworthy, so it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn that, even though Paul had seemed like a decent guy, he was really some sort of self-proclaimed faith healer. Who carried a sword. Nice combo.

Andra pulled her truck into the garage of her apartment complex, praying she’d stay awake long enough to brush her teeth before she collapsed into bed.

She threw her purse on the kitchen counter, ignoring the sink full of dirty dishes and the stacks of unopened mail. None of it mattered as much as getting onto her mattress.

“Hi,” said Paul from her couch, making Andra jump and her system flood with a whole new pile of adrenaline.

He’d kicked off his shoes and was lounging there as if he had every right to be in her home. “Hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. You left the balcony door unlocked.”

Andra stopped dead in her tracks, though her foggy brain had some trouble making sense out of what she was seeing. It took her a few seconds to find her tongue through all the shock. “I never leave my door unlocked,” she said, as if that were the most important thing to point out, rather than the fact that he was inside her home without her permission. “And we’re three stories up.”

“How else would I have gotten in?” he asked, daring to give her a charming grin that made his brown eyes glitter.

It was such a logical question, and she was so damned tired she just couldn’t figure out any sort of intelligent response. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he said, as if she should have known.

“How did you find me?”

“Your truck’s license plate. I’ve got a friend at the DMV.”

“A friend who is at work this early in the morning? It’s not even eight yet.”

Paul shrugged. “You look beat.”

“I am. See, the problem is that I don’t tend to go to bed when there’s a stranger in my living room.”

That charming grin widened into a smile. “We’re not strangers. I know all about you.”

That sounded a little creepy, making her wish she hadn’t left her shotgun in her truck. “Listen. I don’t know how you got in and I really don’t care right now. All I want is for you to leave so that I can get some sleep.” She couldn’t even remember what day it was. That was a bad sign.

Paul got up and came to stand right in front of her. He was a couple inches taller than she was in her boots, and from this distance, she could see warm splinters of firelight gold in his brown eyes. His beard hadn’t been shaved today, giving his jaw additional shadows to accentuate the sharp angles of his face. A small scar above his left eyebrow was stark against the deeper tan of his skin, and if the circles under his eyes were any indication, he was just as tired as she was. “I can’t leave without you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

“Fine, then can we just sit down and talk for a few minutes?” Something about the way he said it told her that it wasn’t even close to what he really wanted to say.

“Whatever it is, we can talk about it in a few hours. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop on the corner at six, okay?”

His mouth tightened. “This can’t wait.”

“It’s gonna have to.” She turned to walk away and opened the door for him, hoping he’d take the hint and get out.