There have been three accidents.

The night my father and brother were hit by a driver who fled from the scene. When my mom woke me up, crying, and so suddenly, our family had become just us.

I never could forget it━seeing my father and Jeremy, laid out coffins, mangled beyond repair. I wasn't supposed to see.

The second accident━I was thirteen.

I haven't told you about this one. I haven't told anyone about the time my mother tried to kill us both.

I still have nightmares of her eyes, fixed on me through the rearview mirror, as she breathed, "Close your eyes, Jude."

Right before she sped the car off the bridge.

I don't know how we survived. I don't remember much about this one━only the scars that are etched over my stomach and back, a crisscrossed map of the memory.

But the third accident wasn't an accident.

No, it was murder.

And the blood is on my hands.

"Holy shit," Hunter says, as my knee digs into Master Cai's solar plexus. The fight is over, and it only took ten minutes. As far as fights go, it was long━a brutal one. He rivaled even my mom, and he made a good opponent. He just wasn't good enough.

Master Cai bows, and I can tell there is pride there.

Hunter is still looking at me as though she's never seen me before. My stomach prickles. Heat floods me.

After the sensei gives me a list of opponents━and, honestly, it's quite short━Hunter follows me out to the training mats.

A smirk twists her lips. "That was . . ."

A sudden beep on her watch jerks her attention, and whatever she reads━it's enough to make her brows pull together.

"I'll be right back," she promises. "I swear. I'll only be half an hour."

"What's wrong?"

"Try not to get into too much trouble." And then she's off, racing towards the elevator.

My first opponent approaches. A lanky Japanese man, who reminds me of . . .

"You're Mikayla's brother," I say.

The brother she followed here, thanks to the Yakuza. He nods solemnly, but I see his eyes flicker in appreciation.

Two fights whirl by, and honestly? I'm glad I only win two out of three of them. In order to be better, I need to be challenged.

Although it did hurt my ego. Just a little.

The training floor is almost empty now, and I don't realize I'm the only one left until I wipe the sweat away and collapse back against the wall. After over an hour practicing fighting stances and drills, I'm ready to pass out. Now that it's rush hour, no one has time to train.

Besides, thanks to Professor Lunetta, who did grant me a project, I have to go meet Cade on the forty-ninth floor soon.

I wonder where Hunter is. She promised she would be back soon━not that it matters. Not that I want to see her.

Although . . . I do want to thank her. For trusting me enough to bring me here.

The elevator doors open. But it's not Hunter.

I look up━right at Derek.

Now, listen, I know I can handle Derek. You know I can handle Derek. I'm sure if anyone had witnessed me dragging him into the ladies bathroom, they would agree I can handle Derek.

But here's the problem. A minor thing, really.

He wasn't alone.

Emilie, Reid and someone else I don't recognize are standing behind him. And let's be real━when you're aiming a gun at someone who is slouched against the wall, completely defenseless, you're probably not friendly. Waving hello with an assault weapon isn't a part of any language I know, but it's a good thing I'm a fast learner.

"Derek," I greet, even as my hands begin to tremble.

No weaknesses, Jude, my mom scolds.

Okay. I can do this. There may be four of them against one of me, and I may be backed into a corner, and I may be tired of fighting for over an hour . . . think. Think.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasant visit?" I say.

Emilie's black-lined eyes narrow on me, and her gaze becomes electric. "Paying back what's due," she says cheerfully.

Ah, small talk. Their intentions become clear once Reid leaps for me at the same time Emilie does. I manage to give her a swipe that knocks her to the ground, her cheek bright red, and she snarls.

"Jesus," I mutter. "You really are dogs."

At least I have a talent for making people mad.

Reid is too strong for me. His large hands clasp around my wrists, curling my arms behind my back. That's fine━my legs are strong, too. I sweep a roundhouse kick towards him, and we collide onto the practice mats.

Just another drill, I remind myself.

With sharp, parrying movements, Reid rolls me over until I am directly beneath him. "How could you," I hiss, thinking of Tommy and how he likes this prick.

Guilt flits through Reid's expression. But it's enough to stop him as Derek hauls me roughly to my feet, his breath a warm rasp on the back of my neck.

He must have gotten out of the medical ward early━I don't know.

"Tell me, Jude," he whispers. "Does this hurt?"

And then he wrenches my arm into an unnatural bed, so hard I feel the grate of bone cracking, so swift I see stars as they dance over the heads of Emilie, Reid and the other fighter I don't know.

"Like a bitch," I say, and I ram my head back into his face. His nose crunches, but he doesn't let go.

Manic. He is manic. "You'll get what's coming," he sneers, and the harsh tone of his voice makes me wince.

"Cocky bitch," Emilie bites out, and I don't know what I've ever done to her. Besides kicking her boyfriend's ass. But he deserved that.

"You're right," I agree. This is my only chance.

I drive my knee back between Derek's legs, and I run like hell.

The elevator doors slam shut. I am breathing hard.

I need to get out of here. I need to get somewhere safe.

My first thought is of Hunter.

The elevator lights buzz, and the silvery lights shine bright in my reflection. Heat and flame flash through me, igniting me from the inside out. A survival instinct.

I don't have the energy to fight. And I know better than to pick a fight over a losing battle. Besides, I seethe, they are cowards for cornering me when there are four of them and one of me.

This is their territory though. This is their home ground, and they know it better than I do.

My eyes can the array of buttons. Where do I go? What's safe?

Hunter's face snaps into view, and I brush it away. I don't know where she went, but I don't have time to wonder━or worry. Derek and his girlfriend and their friends are after me, and the only people who I know down here are gone.

I could find Mikayla, but I have no idea where she would be. Tommy went "out," as Hunter put it, and now that she's gone too . . .

I could go to the Alpha, but I think better of it. You're on your own here, she sneered. You're not under my protection.

Shit. Shit. I want to slam the glass.

The professor. I could find the professor. She's on the forty-ninth floor━

But before I can reach for the button, the doors open again.

I prepare myself. If they're going to team up, four against one, then I won't go down without a goddamn fight, and I won't go down if I don't get at least two of them in the process. My fists clench and I lunge━right into Hunter.

Behind her, I see them: Derek. Emilie. Reid. The other boy, whose name I don't know.

They come up the stairs, and there is no time. They probably haven't recognized Hunter yet━maybe they haven't even see me.

As Hunter steps on, I whisper, "Kiss me."

"What?" she barks.

Emilie's electric blue eyes are scanning the corridor. Derek's face is an unflattering shade of red, contorted into wordless rage.

"Don't ask. Just kiss me."

I don't know what she sees in my face. Pure panic. Desperation. But her dark eyes search mine, the long lashes shadowing her gaze, and she leans forward with no more hesitation. There is something in the way she reaches me in a single stride, pushing me against the back of the elevator wall hard enough to rattle the mirror. Her tattooed fingers brush a lock of hair behind my ear, and our mouths collide.

It's everything I didn't let myself think of. It is desire and lightning, and all I can think of is her━the sensation of a storm, the violence of craving.

My hand tangles in her chestnut hair. I pull her closer to me and moan in her mouth, my spine arching with a shudder. The doors are closed, but the elevator isn't moving.

Her tongue slips over mine, and with a gentle tug, she bites at my lower lip. I force her closer to me, aching to touch every inch of her, desperate to feel her skin against mine.

"Hunter," I say breathlessly. Tainted with need.

"You're mine." She lets out a rough sound, like a growl, and my legs wrap around her hips as she pins me to the wall. Her mouth moves against mine, like a prayer, like a promise.

I don't know how I could have lived without this. I don't know if I've been alive until this moment.

She answers me with a hunger of her own, and my fingertips claw up her back. You're mine, she said. Territorial. Possessive. A whimper escapes me, at the thought of her eyes, black with violent desire.

The elevator doors open. Derek and Emilie and Reid. Pausing.

My eyes widen, but I can't bring myself to pull away. I know what this must look like: my legs wrapped around Hunter's waist, my hands raking up her back, hot and wild and full of need. Pressed against the elevator wall.

Hunter notices my slight pause, and she looks up.

Towards the four Mafia lords, who stand just outside the threshold of the elevator. As though afraid to cross. To breach what is so clearly Hunter's territory.

Slowly, I unravel myself from Hunter. But her hand doesn't leave the wall next to my head. Leaning against me, casual, she only asks, "What the fuck are you doing here, Derek?"

"I was in the practice room," he says, but even I can tell he sounds nervous.

Do I tell her what they were trying to do? Do I tell her about Emilie and Derek's threat, their plot?

No. I can fight my own battles.

And besides . . . I want her to kiss me again.

"Get out of my sight," Hunter says, in a voice so low and cold it makes me shiver. Emilie flashes me a hateful look, but she follows Derek and the others as he leaves. Although he was ordered away, there is something in his walk that says this isn't over.

He still wants me dead, or beat up. I don't care.

The elevator doors close again, and this time, Hunter presses the button to the floor where we sleep. Beds, I think. A bedroom.

But she doesn't move. Her hand, planted above mine, shows me the tense cords of muscle in her forearm. Her knuckles are scarred, tattooed with flowing patterns, and I want those fingers on me now. Wrapped around my throat. Reaching between my legs.

She only stares at me, her expression so full of lust and dark heat that I can't think. Can't breathe. But I want this. I want her.

"Are you going to finish what you started?" I ask in a husky voice.

Whatever was holding her back snaps away. With a touch that is covetous, she brings her lips to mine. I moan at the heat that flows between us, the river of fire that burns with only a graze of her knuckles against my jaw.

"Do you want this?" she asks, rough.

I don't even hesitate. "Yes," I whimper, yearning for her sensation. Her touch. "Yes. Now."

The elevator doors open on to our floor.

>>>

Yeah, I saw this one coming.

From the moon and back,
Sarai