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  He stuck to the shadows as he trailed her, keeping her in his sights. Her long legs carried her with grace, the tap of her heels against the pavement sounding of sure footing and determination to get to her destination.

  When she rounded the corner and the police station came into view, he sighed with relief. No one would be stupid enough to attack a female as she walked by the building. Still, he stood and watched her from a distance. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he found his lips still warm and his heart pounded wildly … all from one simple kiss.

  Suddenly, a palm landed on his shoulder, and he jumped and turned around. Taking a fighting stance, he prepared to battle.

  “Easy there, handsome,” Hudson said, taking a step back and lifting his hands to shoulder height. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  His adrenaline ebbed, and he let out a long breath. “Well, then, how about approaching with ‘hi,’ or ‘Hey, Roman?’”

  Kade rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Or, you could just pay attention to your surroundings and be aware of what’s happening around you. It’s not like we snuck up on you.”

  Hudson brought his hands down to his sides and narrowed his gaze. “What’s got you off in la-la land, anyway?”

  For some reason, he didn’t want to share his time with Olivia. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Kade and Hudson peeked around the corner, and Roman followed their gaze. Olivia stood at the door of an apartment building, fiddling with the lock. Finally, she opened it and stepped inside.

  Kade let out a slow whistle. “That female has some legs.”

  Hudson nodded. “Yes, she does, my friend. Those legs could probably wrap around a male twice.”

  Roman sighed and leaned against the building.

  Hudson stared at him with a lifted eyebrow. “You like her?”

  He shook his head—he wouldn’t sully the very short, yet very perfect, time they’d had together. He’d keep that to himself. “No.”

  “You stalking her?”

  “Jesus, Hudson, of course not.”

  Kade yawned. “Let’s head home, Hudson. I’m tired.”

  “You just want to get home and watch more porn,” Hudson retorted.

  Roman noticed how the male didn’t deny it. Time to call it a night. “I’m catching a ride with you. Blake and Axel took off a while ago.”

  “Well, let’s go, Pretty Boy. I can’t wait to hear all about how you don’t know that female.”

  As they walked down the street, he hoped neither of them would press it. If he told of his short time with Olivia, it would sound stupid and trivial; yet, it had been anything but that. He wanted to keep it to himself. “There’s nothing to tell, Hudson.”

  “Then tell us how you find pleasure in stalking females,” Kade chimed in.

  He sighed, done talking. “You can both go fuck yourselves.”

  Kade and Hudson broke out into laughter, and he tuned them out. He had more important things to think about, like the beauty of Olivia’s ebony skin, and the way that kiss had scorched him inside and out and made his blood race and his groin ache like no other.

  For a moment, he considered going back to the Black Cuff and finding the waitress who’d promised booze, weed, and sex. Being with her would relieve the tension coiled within him, but at the same time, she held no attraction for him. No one could compare to Olivia, so he’d have to be happy with his fantasies about her.

  Why had she been so different from other females? What about her had attracted him so? She dressed nicely, she looked sexy and beautiful, but it had been something else entirely.

  He didn’t understand what had happened, but he would definitely think about going back tomorrow night, hoping to ‘accidently’ run into her.

  Chapter 3

  The next day, Olivia sat in one of the conference rooms in the police station going over the files from the case. The plain, white walls and yellowing tile floor, depressed her, and she’d bruised her hip bumping into the metal table just the other day. She tried to focus and ignore her surroundings as she took another drink of her coffee. She’d been up a good portion of the night thinking about Roman and that damn kiss, so her brain seemed to be clogged with exhaustion.

  Sitting back, she rubbed her eyes, then closed them for a moment. She had to get her head in the game. There would be no thinking about hot kisses or hard bodies, or hands that made her skin burn. A serial murderer ran loose on the streets of Phoenix, and the police counted on her to give them a good profile. They’d never admit it, but Olivia had heard chatter among the detectives that they didn’t have any leads. Based on her investigation thus far, she didn’t, either. It seemed as if this guy had killed numerous people—they still didn’t have a final count—and then, simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Where was he? Did he have another killing field somewhere? Or, did he sit back and watch the investigation unfold on television, admiring the fact that he had the police stumped?

  Yes, the police had reached a dead end, as had she.

  She rose and walked over to the large chart she’d made on the wall. The faces of the victims identified so far stared back at her—their names, ages, occupations, and where they lived had all been noted under their pictures. One in particular caught her eye. Vicky’s.

  She’d come here wanting to solve her sister’s case, to put her murderer behind bars, but so far, she’d been a miserable failure.

  However, no matter how long she stared at her sister and the others, no matter how many spreadsheets she put together, or how many computer programs she ran, she couldn’t find anything that linked the dead together. In every other case she’d worked, there had always been something; yet, here, she couldn’t find it.

  “Yes, you can. You just haven’t looked hard enough.”

  But how did her sister, a twenty-one-year-old black woman who dyed her afro a flaming red color, frequented questionable bars, and who worked as a barista in a coffee shop downtown, meet up with a fifty-year-old devout Mormon whose wife and six kids swore he’d never touched caffeine and had never had a drop of alcohol in his life?

  And where was the connection between them and a thirty-year-old soccer mom with two kids who practiced her Catholic faith? What about the twenty-five-year-old Hassidic Jew? Where did he fit in?

  As she stared at the smiling, forty-year-old Muslim woman with the flowered headscarf, her brain lingered on the brink of explosion, and she shut her eyes. They’d all lived very different lives and frequented different places. She’d checked for a link between them through medical and dental care, babysitters, even grocery stores.

  How did they all connect? And if they didn’t, then they were dealing with someone who didn’t have a particular type of victim in mind, but killed at random.

  Those are the craziest motherfuckers.

  She opened her eyes. “And the hardest to catch.”

  Gazing at the wall a few more moments, she sat down again, sighed in frustration, and opened another folder.

  Somehow, she would crack this case and bring her sister’s killer to justice, and hopefully, give the other families who had lost someone to this monster a bit of peace.

  Chapter 4

  Blake sat back in his chair in the War Room waiting for the rest of the Warriors to make their entrance.

  The vibe in the silo had changed. Just a few weeks ago, the stress level had been off the charts with the disappearance of Macy and Alaina, and then things had mellowed out once they’d been found.

  Now, with basically no Colonist activity, he could feel the Warriors getting antsy. To him, it proved to be similar to caging a tiger. At first, the beast may be happy to have a bit of rest and a steak thrown in to feed him. After a while, the kitty needed to get out and do what came naturally.

  For the Warriors, they needed to hunt Colonists.

  Sure, every now and then, someone would have a breakdown, just like Jovan had done a few weeks ago. He had said their fight wa
s a losing battle and he was done. He had been ready to hang up his gun belt. Eventually, he came back around, and Blake could sense the need to track prey from all of them.

  Not only hadn’t there been any Colonist activity in Phoenix with the death of Daniel, but it had been quiet worldwide. Noah’s stack of paperwork from police departments from around the world remained steady, but as far as any of the murders being the work of a Colonist, they’d come up with a big, fat zero. Nada. And frankly, that scared him more than anything.

  Daniel had said he was a small wheel in a larger operation. So, who ran that operation? When would they make themselves known, and how would they do it? He had a feeling it would be something similar to getting a two-by-four to the back of the head. It would come fast, strong, and probably knock them flat on their collective asses.

  Roman entered, looking troubled, and of course, a bit antsy as he cracked his knuckles and rolled his head. Blake felt bad about being the one responsible for him being stabbed a few months ago, but never in a million years did he consider the guy would take his McDonald’s pick up line seriously. He had to remember that the new SR44ians hadn’t been exposed to humans, and basically, they reminded him of small children who needed to be taught how life worked.

  “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

  Roman shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Did you have a good time last night?”

  He stared at the table. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Go home with any pretties?”

  “Nope.”

  Blake narrowed his gaze. Something was up with Roman. “What’s going on, my friend?”

  The guy finally met his gaze. “Nothing, Blake.”

  Like he believed that. “Are you sure?”

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Just fucking drop it, okay? Even if there was something going on, I sure as shit am not talking to you about it.”

  Blake crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at the male. If he didn’t want to talk about it, fine. However, he’d find out one way or the other. He could be a nosey son of a bitch.

  Noah walked in, looking exhausted, with deep purple rings under his glazed eyes. Blake had heard through the grapevine that their baby, Phoenix, didn’t sleep much. He plopped a stack of papers on the table and sat down. “Where is everyone?”

  Even with Noah seemingly tired, Blake sensed the antsy undercurrent in him, too. “They’re late.”

  Noah rubbed his eyes. “Call them, and tell them to get their asses in here because I’m one cranky motherfucker and in no mood for this shit.”

  “Baby still not sleeping?”

  “Nope.”

  Blake pulled out his phone and sent a group SMS. A moment later, they filed in, one by one.

  When everyone was seated, Noah stood up. “Okay, listen up. This is going to be short and sweet. I have a lead on possible Colonist activity in Florida. Rayner, Jovan, and Titus, you’re out of here in the morning. If you want to bring your females and make a little vacation out of it, then do so.”

  “What’s there to do in Florida?” Titus asked.

  Jovan leaned forward. “We can do a lot there, depending on where we are.”

  “Just watch out for the gators and those damn pythons,” Blake advised.

  Titus ran his hand through his hair. “Pythons?”

  “Yeah. They’re huge—like fifteen to twenty feet. And from what I understand, mean as a snake.”

  Everyone stared at him for a moment, and then he realized what he’d said. Well, that hadn’t been one of his brighter moments.

  Finally, Noah spoke. “That’s a fabulous description, Blake.”

  Most broke into laughter, and a few just shook their heads. He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own gaffe.

  “Well, just watch out for them.”

  When the ribbing died down, Noah stood. “I’m done. Anyone have anything else they need to address?”

  Blake gazed around the table. Everyone seemed to be paying attention to Noah, except Roman. He stared at the tabletop again, tracing circles over the wood with his fingertip. Yeah, he seemed very far, far away, and Blake grinned. The fact of the matter was that he was antsy as well, but maybe he’d just found exactly what he needed to occupy his time—he’d get to the bottom of Roman’s sulkiness.

  Chapter 5

  Roman pushed the barbell above his head, hoping to burn some of this energy swirling within him as he mentally counting the reps. At twenty-five, he set the bar back in the stand and closed his eyes. His breath sawed in and out of his lungs as beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face.

  After arriving home with Hudson and Kade, he’d laid in bed, gazing at the ceiling, his thoughts on Olivia. He could see her face, as if she hovered above him. Her hazel eyes stared back at him expectantly, her smooth ebony skin looking so soft.

  Why had she run after the kiss? Had it been too much, too soon? He never should have given in to the urge, but the sexual tension had seemed to scorch between them. Or maybe, he had been the only one to feel it. Maybe the kiss had scared her off.

  He sighed and lifted the bar again. After another twenty-five reps, he sat up and blotted his face with a towel. He’d been tossing around an idea all day long, and it would be a decision he had to make some time soon.

  There had been something about Olivia that was different from all the other women he’d met. Had it been stimulating conversation? No, because they’d barely spoken. He’d slept with black women before, and other women just about every shade of skin under the sun, so it wasn’t the novelty of her ethnicity that had him all twisted up. It boiled down to a connection he’d never had before, one he didn’t understand.

  But then again, maybe it had only been on his side.

  However, what if it hadn’t been?

  What if she’d felt it, and it had made her uncomfortable? What if she’d been as surprised by it as he had?

  And most importantly, what if she went back to the bar, looking for him again?

  I need to go back to the Black Cuff.

  Placing his elbows on his knees and laying his head in his palms, he shook his head and thought about the night’s events. He’d get to the bar, hold out hope of seeing her again, then be very disappointed when he didn’t, because certainly, if she’d felt the connection he had, she would have stayed with him the night before.

  Yet, something told him to go back.

  How he wished he understood human nature better, especially that of human females. All of the other Warriors had told him that decoding females was close to impossible, but he didn’t believe it. Except for Axel, Chase, and Kade, all of them had a female that accepted them for the way they were, faults and all.

  He just wanted someone to do the same for him, and maybe Olivia would be the one.

  Glancing at his phone, he realized that if he would be heading back to the Black Cuff, he needed to get showered, and probably take a nap. There may be a slight chance that the female who had walked out on him last night would be there, and if he could be so lucky, he would see her again.

  And hopefully, this time, she wouldn’t run away.

  Chapter 6

  Olivia shut the last of the files and put it in a stack to her left, feeling defeated. She’d spent another Saturday trying to come up with something on this case, and once again, she’d ended up with nothing.

  Pretty soon, she’d be pulled from the job and told to head back to Virginia. The idea didn’t sit well with her because she had been certain she would be the one to put the pieces together, to find the connections between the victims, and in the end, help put the killer away for life.

  And still, she had nothing.

  A knock sounded at the door, startling her. Taking deep breath, she calmed her nerves. “Come in.”

  Captain Harvey walked in—a really nice guy in his late forties, with a head full of black hair, an acne-scarred face, and a bright smile. He held two cups of coffee from the shop down the street.

  “I don’t know how to
order all that latte-this, skinny-that stuff, so I hope a large regular works for you.”

  She grinned. “It’s perfect, Captain. Thank you.”

  He nodded and took the chair across from her as he looked around the room. “How’s everything going in here?”

  Following his gaze, she had a feeling he already knew the answer. “It’s going.”

  “So, I heard from your boss today. Did he call you?”

  She took a sip of coffee and hoped her nervousness didn’t show. Could he be pulling her off the case already? “No.”

  He met her gaze. “He’s not happy, Olivia. In fact, he’s really pissed. You shouldn’t be working this case, and you should have told someone that your sister was one of the victims.”

  Half-sister.

  She tried to keep her eyes on the captain, but failed miserably. Instead, she stared at the coffee in front of her and wrapped her hands around the cup, the warmth soothing her just a bit. What could she do at this point? She’d lied by omission and been caught. She had to own up to it. “I thought I could make a difference. I thought I could catch him.”

  He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table while lacing his hands together. “I can understand that, but you shouldn’t have taken the case to begin with.”

  Remaining quiet, she looked over at the victims as profound sadness washed through her and tears stung her eyes. Her sister’s picture stood out, almost beckoning her to do something—to solve the mystery of who did this to her so she didn’t have to be a face on a wall or a statistic in a case; so she could finally be left alone to rest in peace.

  Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d never cry in front of Captain Harvey. She didn’t cry in front of anyone. “You’re right, but when it was assigned to me, I had to. The chance to find my sister’s murderer … I couldn’t pass that up.”