A lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard.

“Erin and Helen used to talk about them. Erin would tell horror stories about the abusive Todd, while Helen would wax poetic about the one that got away. Phillip.”

Phillip.

Phillip Bell.

My father.

I sank to the ground before I could fall. I shook my head. “I would remember.” In more than just my dreams.

Veronica took no pity on me. “I have pictures of the two of us. Helen thought she destroyed everything we owned, but she didn’t.”

No way to prove it’s me in those pictures.

But if Helen really had staged Sami’s death and given the girl to her father, bits and pieces of my past would make sense. How my dad had prowled through our house every night, a gun in hand. I’d assumed he was watching for monsters, even though the gun wouldn’t have hurt them, but maybe he’d been watching for people. Those who might be coming after his little girl.

Rebuttal: he hadn’t known about Anima, slayers and zombies, and Helen would have told him, would have wanted him informed.

Of course, she could have told him, and he could have refused to believe.

And why had she gone back to Anima? Why not leave, as planned? Why turn on Erin?

Only one answer made any sense, and it was the glue that held the entire sordid story together. To protect the daughter she loved.

To protect...me?

Part of me wanted to accept it. To bask in the knowledge that my mother was out there, helping me. The other part still screamed in denial.

“Show me the pictures,” I said.

Veronica nodded. “While we were out fighting, Jules put them in your room for Cole to find. She wants the two of you broken up for good, so he and I can get back together.” Bitterness blended with self-deprecation. “She doesn’t realize it’s never going to happen, but then, she loves him. He saved her life, you know, after Todd purposely burned her and left her for dead. Because yes, he is our dad, and when Erin decided she didn’t want us, he had legal rights to us. He still has them over Jules. He’s the reason we’re off grid.”

The hatch to the tunnel flew open, and something fell through. Heart racing, I wiped my face.

The “something” moaned.

I rushed over...and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it wasn’t Cole, Frosty or River. It was one of Anima’s best assassins. The guy who’d once shot and killed an innocent man in front of me.

The guy who’d tried to kill me.

Instinctively, I palmed a dagger. He was unconscious, or at least, he was pretending to be. He was wily, this one, and couldn’t be trusted.

River dropped inside, landing and straightening in one fluid motion. He pressed a booted foot into the guy’s neck, grinning over at me. “I win.”

Cole came in next and looked me over. “Everything okay?”

His first concern was for me, always for me. I wanted to cry. No, I wanted to hug him and never let go.

Could lose him over this... “Everyone survived,” I managed to say.

His narrowed gaze leveled on Veronica. “If you said something to hurt her, Ronnie, I—” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Veronica. If you said something to hurt her, I will—”

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I interrupted, taking hope in the fact that he’d stopped calling her Ronnie, just because I’d once mentioned how much it bothered me. “We’ll talk about it when we’re alone.” Or never. I voted for never.

He looked from me to Veronica, Veronica to me. Comprehension dawned, and he stiffened. “Helen.”

Sometimes smart boys were a pain.

I bit the side of my tongue, nodded.

Cole turned away, and my heartbeat finally slowed, the organ withering in my chest.

“You should have seen us,” River said, unaware—or uncaring—of the sudden tension in the air. “Guy was fast, but not fast enough. We were able to introduce him to our fists.”

“And our elbows,” Cole said.

“And our knees and boots,” River added. “He didn’t stand a chance.”

“How’d he get past Ankh’s security?” Veronica asked.

Cole massaged the back of his neck. “That’s a good question. One I intend to investigate.”

“Well, let’s get him locked up.” And me to my room, where I could pore over those pictures.

“After that, let’s talk about what you did out there,” River said to me. His gaze moved to Veronica, got caught, and his grin returned. “How about you join the chat, honey?”

The rough-and-tumble Veronica Lane, who seemed to know more about me than I knew about myself, had no defense against a little flirting and freaking blushed. Unreal. “All right. Sure.”

Ugh. This day!

Cole and River each grabbed one of the assassin’s arms and dragged him forward. Veronica and I trailed behind.

“The real fun starts when he wakes up,” River remarked.

“I told you,” Cole said on a sigh. “We’re not going to kill him.”

“I didn’t say anything about killing him, did I? I just figured we were going to torture him for information.”

“That’s not how we do things.”

River looked over his shoulder and winked at Veronica. “You’re about to start.”

Chapter 18

THIS WAY. NO, THAT WAY.

OOPS, DEAD END.

Here’s what we already knew: the assassin was twenty-year-old Benjamin Ostrander Jr. We’d caught him a few weeks before and let him go. Our mistake. Before freeing him, Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland had run his fingerprints through some kind of database. Apparently, good ole Benji had run away from home at the age of thirteen and had been arrested a few times for breaking and entering, as well as assault and battery. Right after his fifteenth birthday, he’d dropped off the map.