I never wanted kids.

At least, not my own kids. I would have rather been the cool aunt. The mysterious, dangerous aunt who will not hesitate to beat up the kids who bully my nieces and nephews. Nobody messes with my family.

The moment I guide the two young girls to my black Audi, ushering them into the backseat, I can't help but think again of this. I never wanted kids, and I have no idea what to do with them.

They must be around seven and eight. Too young. Too fragile. Too broken.

The Russians seemed unbothered, gruff, about the exchange. As though this was an ordinary occurrence, even as my fists clenched and my teeth ached from grinding them. When I snap, I become something else—something wild and predatory.

But I couldn't snap—not yet.

I vowed to myself I would find the Russians, and I would do to them what they had done to these girls. But for now, my anger lied with Anise.

Even so, I couldn't help the slight shaking of my hand as I strapped a seat belt over the older girl. She was sitting so still, so frozen, that my heart clenched. She was afraid of me—and she had good reason to be. From her perspective, I had just bought her to do God knows what. And the younger girl . . .

As I move to the other side of the car, leaning in to strap her seatbelt on, she bites me.

"Damn!" I bite out, wincing at small teeth sink into my forearm.

It doesn't take much to remove her mouth from my flesh, but as I shake my arm, trying to ease the sting, she cowers back in her seat. Burying herself against her sister. They both watch me with wide, terrified eyes. Expecting backlash.

Instantly, I realize my shaking hand looks like I am about to hit her.

My heart softens, but I only close the car door. I removed both their chains. It might have been stupid, because now they are free to attack me while I drive, but . . . I couldn't bring myself to keep them in shackles. I heard Jude's voice in my head, saying, Morals, I know. But they're there for a reason.

Even so, I rethink it as I start the engine. The younger girl just bit me. At least she has a little bit of vicious spirit, but that may not be good while I'm driving.

Despite it, though, the entire car ride back, they do not move.

The older one has brown eyes, and the younger one has green eyes. I can't help noticing as my eyes flick back through the rearview mirror. They don't bear much similarity, so I don't think they are blood-related, but I know better than anyone that the closest relationships aren't always family.

As soon as I pull into the Underground's parking space, I stop the car.

I hesitate. What would Jude do?

If I know her well, I don't think she'd know what to do with kids either.

And I . . . I may have raised Tommy, but I still feel uncomfortable now.

What do I say to two girls who have been through hell?

A sex-trafficking ring. The truth of the Underground.

The bottom fifty floors.

For one month, I knew about this. And although the deal I made with Elijah Napier was supposed to be the beginning of the end, right now, as I look into their eyes, it is not enough.

It's not enough.

I have to do something. Right now. I just don't know what.

"What are your names?" I ask tentatively.

Neither of them speak. Perfect. I can't even blame them.

"I'm going to need you to trust me," I say, even though they have no reason to. Even though, to them, I may as well be the enemy. "Please?"

The older girl nods.

"Okay," I whisper. "Follow me."

It is a reckless, foolish plan—the kind Jude would make. But it's all I can think of, as my blood vibrates with anger and my heart beats with rage. So, with shaking hands, I lead them into the Underground.

"Special delivery," I say, using the secret entrance into the Underground. The one that is hidden in an off-way corridor—only a few people know about this. Not even Tommy does.

I should have never found this place.

I should have never discovered the truth.

It would have been so much easier to live in the blissful ignorance of one month ago.

THERE IS BLOOD ON MY HANDS that I wipe onto the lapels of my leather jacket.

I am panting. Exhausted. I just killed a man, and I am stumbling back into the alley that leads to the Underground.

My ears are ringing. Only an hour ago, I was close enough to Jude to touch her.

My hand on the brick building paints it with a smear of colour. I can barely breathe.

I just killed a murderer.

I just killed the Campus Killer.

Down the alley, I hear the strangest sound: a man's footsteps.

My vision is swimming, but I follow the noise. I have never gone this far behind the building. But I am just in time to see a man disappear—through an entrance I never knew about.

I am suddenly alert.

I know I shouldn't follow him, but I do.

"I brought what you asked," I snarl to Anise.

The two girls are waiting outside the room. I warned them not to come in. I didn't want them to see what was going to happen.

"What's wrong, sister?" she asks gently, a sweet, purring caress. "Aren't you excited to be a part of the family?"

"This is sick," I say. "It's sick, and it's wrong. I can't let you—"

"Aren't you happy I've finally told you the big secret?"

"This is the farthest damn thing from happy I've ever been in my life!" I am so, so close to snapping. Too close.

"This is the reality," Anise says coldly. "Even the Saints do it. This is how you make real money, my sister. This is how we stay as the leaders of this city."

"It's corrupt," I sneer. "Children, Anise! Kids!"

"We're giving them a home."

At this, I back up so hard into the door it rattles. I don't want to scare the girls outside, but I can't help it.

"A home?" I am so mad I can't see straight. I have almost snapped. I am the brink. The edge. "A home with old men who use these young girls as they please? And you let it happen!"

"I am giving them what they deserve."

Even in this moment, Anise is beautiful, with her marble cheekbones and her glinting, blue eyes, the same colour as one of my own. She is fierce and sharp-edged, with a granite jaw and an arrogantly luscious mouth. She is my sister, and she is me, but . . . this. This.

I can never forgive this.

I let go of my snarl, of my tether.

And I snap.

THIS ELEVATOR IS NOT THE SAME. INSTEAD of the standard 1-50 floors, the row of buttons starts at 51 and ends at 100.

100 floors to the Underground? Impossible.

I press the button labeled 99.

As the elevator glides down, a sickening feeling floods me.

Premonition, maybe. An omen.

The elevator stops. 99th floor.

The doors open.

It is a long maze of corridors. Quiet, at first, until I begin to pass by the doors. Then I hear it—the faint sound of . . . moaning.

My heart stops.

Inside of the room, I see him.

A tall, older man, with leathery skin. Naked. And someone small.

A girl.

"How could you?"

"It was my duty!" Anise says fiercely, as my hands are locked over her throat.

My vision is red. Red and black and gold.

"To enslave young girls? To make them into—into prostitutes?"

"We are a gang, after all, sister."

"The Italian Mafia don't do this!" I shout. "Nobody does this! This is sick—and twisted—and—I can't believe you let this happen."

"Oh, don't be so naïve, Hunter. The Italian Mafia have been doing this as long as we have—where do you think we come from?" She is still grinning, vicious, even as my fingers are burning into her throat. "And everybody who inherited the Wolves knew about this. It's a . . . necessary evil. For the greater good."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "No, I don't—"

"Why do you think our parents left?" Anise says, her smile growing wider. In this moment, she seems . . . crazy. Manic. "Neither of them could handle it. Once they had kids, us, their daughters, they couldn't face what they had done. That's why they left, Hunter. That's why Mom and Dad left, and they haven't come back. And Jude's mom—did you think of that? Mary Chopin was a part of this, too. And she left. Nobody can handle it—but me."

"That's not a good thing!"

"I am what keeps the Wolves alive," she hisses, so low and fast it startles me. "I am the Alpha."

THE SECOND TIME THAT DAY, I kill someone.

I set the little girl free. I am driving, blurry, breathing hard, barely seeing, and I take her to an adoption center. I don't even look at her face. I can't bear to see her, what has been under my nose this whole time.

Once I am done, I wipe down the blood and I throw away the body.

Nobody will ever know what happened to this man.

But after that, I don't go back down there.

Now that I know what is the truth of the Underground, I need to do something.

I promise to myself. I will free them. I will free all of them.

I swear it.

Even if it means betraying the Wolves.

I let go of Anise and stumble back. My hands are burning; my skin is burning. I can't breathe, can't think.

I can't forgive you for this.

But I have to pretend. I know I have to pretend.

"I understand," I say, even as my vision tunnels.

Anise claps delightedly. Her throat is still red. "I'm glad you see sense, sister."

I have to pretend. I have to protect the two girls outside.

This has to end, once and for all.

And I'm going to bring them all down. Every single person who is responsible for this ring of sex trafficking. For bargaining and breaking these children. Saints included.

I'm going to tear apart this city from the inside out.

>>>

WE HAVE A MISSION! And you guys finally know why Hunter hates Anise.

How are we feeling so far?

From the moon and back,
Sarai