Grappling for the door handle, I beat back tears. When the door swung open, I bolted, disregarding Jag's pleas and the fact there was a winged monster out here hunting me, and the Shard I carried—whatever the hell that was—turned my blood into a GPS system for him. Though, at this point, I might let Kohl take me. Or Cian. Either of them could put me out of my misery.

Leaves crunched beneath my boots as I marched into the woods surrounding the house. I certainly wasn't going inside. Not only did it look like something out of a horror film with its sagging porch, busted windows, and grimy bricks, the wards we passed through to reach it meant whoever—or whatever — was inside was supernatural. Like Jac was.

A sob caught in my chest, making me gasp with pain, and I rubbed at the space beneath my breast, hoping to massage it away. I thought I was done with crying. I thought I was done with making myself vulnerable enough to care when people screwed me over. Four foster families and an adoptive mother who turned me away the day I was legal made sure I knew how much value I had. Jac tossing me aside, cleared up any lingering hope I had that maybe everything before him had been bad luck.

But this was fucked up on so many levels. How could he do this to me? Take away the one thing I'd ever wanted for myself—a job as a detective—and for what? He wanted me to believe it was because he was worried about me, but if he knew the supernatural world existed, if he was part of it, then what did he gain by getting me fired?

"Bria, slow down."

"Get the fuck away from me."

"Will you just listen to me?"

I spun on him, and he halted, eyes wide and hands up. For a moment, only the sound of our harsh breathing and the rhythmic drops of rain filled the air. Then I was shouting. "Let's just forget everything that happened before today, but just a couple of hours ago, you sent me away from the cabin because I fucked with your head too much. You were a complete ass, making me feel like I was the terrible person. Have I gotten any of this wrong?"

"If you would let me explain—"

"Nothing you could say would make a difference at this point. You treated me like I was crazy, and you were involved in all of it all along."

Jac shook his head. "I was trying to keep you safe."

"First of fucking all," I seethed, stalking toward him and driving my finger into his chest. "I don't need a man to save me. Second, that makes no sense. Save me from what? You didn't seem worried about the dangerous situations I put myself in everyday—unless that's it. You're some sexist prick who didn't want a female partner. I'm good enough to screw, but not good enough to have your back."

My former partner scowled, and a little of the world shifted back to normal. As angry as I was, I would much rather face off against an equally furious Jac than this foreign whiny, pleading version of him, but then again, I clearly knew nothing about him.

"There's a lot you can accuse me of, but don't ever accuse me of bullshit like that again. You were one of the best partners I have worked with in my entire career, and anyone would have been lucky to have you at their side." A gust whipped through the trees, clacking the branches together and biting through my damp clothes. We shivered. "Can we have this conversation inside?"

"No. I don't know who or what is in there, but I can guess there is at least one witch based on the wards. I haven't had the best of luck with them."

To be fair, I'd met a total of two, and one of them tried to hex me when I wouldn't give her my blood to let her do more testing to determine my supernatural lineage. I had been new to the community then, but I wasn't an idiot. Blood was powerful and often used in binding spells. You didn't give it away freely.

"You felt the wards?" Confusion scrunched his features. "How?"

"I don't know. Same way I feel the energy in a room and know that the echoes are going to be strong." I still wasn't sure if that was part of my gift or if it was a separate ability. Typically, only spell casters like witches and druids could sense wards, and the second witch I met assured me she'd met no one so inept at spell casting in her entire life.

Jac was mumbling and pacing now. It was typical behavior for him when he was in the middle of a big breakthrough in a case. He rubbed the back of his neck and tipped his head back, exhaling a silver stream of frustration.

"How do you know all of this? About witches?"

I sucked my lips between my teeth and blew them out. Hands on my hips, I studied him, wondering if he'd struck his head when chasing after me. "Did you or did you not just pick me up on the side of the road after I escaped from a winged monster you didn't seem terribly shocked about?"

"Well, yeah, but that's why I was trying to keep you off the case, because I knew it tied back to the Anderian, and I didn't want you to get involved. The supernatural world isn't for someone like you, Smith."

"Wait." I gathered my hair in both hands and twisted, wringing water from the strands to ease the weight on my scalp. If I was about to be on the run, it might be time to consider cutting it. "You're telling me you never considered the fact I was, you know, maybe a member of the community myself, when I told you I could see the past when I touched objects?"

Lighting streaked overhead, turning the sky electric blue, and less than five seconds later, thunder boomed. Jac raised his brows and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "House?"

"N-no," I insisted—mostly to be stubborn at this point. Pneumonia or hypothermia was preferable to going inside that house without answers.

"No," he said, cursing and shrugging out of jacket.

He held it over our heads to shelter us from the increasing downpour, and I huddled closer to him, relishing his body heat and banishing my inner wanton's suggestion that naked bodies shared heat better. His chin settled on the top of my head.

"Listen, when...when you told me about what you thought you could do—shit! Bria, damn it. What was that for?"

I released the nipple I'd just twisted and said, "What I can do."

"Fine, what you can do... I didn't know monsters and magic were real. You remember I told you my mom bailed on us when I was five, and I'd started looking for her?"

"Yeah." I burrowed the cold tip of my nose into his chest. "Right before everything happened, you told me you thought you found her."

"Well, I did. Turns out she's an Amouri."

"I don't think I've ever heard of that," I replied, wracking my brain for any mention of such a race. June warned me that the creatures I'd seen or heard of only scratched the surface. Every myth and legend had a basis in fact.

"Few have. They're—we're—rare. Highly sought after. I still don't understand it all, but the easiest way to explain it is that we are human familiars."

Jac draped the suit jacket over his head so we were both covered, but his hands were free. He lowered them and wrapped them around my waist, tugging me tighter against his body. I wanted to fight against the embrace, but it felt so good. Gods, this was why I'd been drawn to him in the beginning. He made me feel safe and wanted the way no one had ever before, which is what made his betrayal so much worse.

"This still doesn't explain why you've treated me the way you have," I said.

My voice hitched, and his hand slid under my sodden hoodie. The rough pads of his fingers made warm circles on my lower back, making the warmth in my blood move between my legs until I ached. A satisfied rumble went through his chest when my legs—traitorous hoes that they were—shifted to a wider stance, as if preparing for the inevitable.

"The first thing I wanted to do was go to you and tell you what I'd learned. Tell you I believed you. I talked to my mom about you, and she said she'd never heard of someone with those abilities. Her witch considered that you might be a foundling, but after some... testing," Jac stumbled as if almost said something else, but I was too interested in where the story was going to call him on it. "It was determined you didn't belong to any witch bloodlines. They said you were likely Touched."

"Like, in the head?" I snapped, easing back to look up at him, but it was too dark to see his face properly.

"Of sorts," he admitted, amusement dripping from his voice. "They believe'd you were seeing what you claimed to see, but they said you needed to be stopped. Apparently, there are humans who, for whatever reason, have special abilities, but because your body isn't equipped to handle them, you eventually go mad or end up killed because you can't control it."

I gripped his shirt in my hand, my voice barely above a whisper when I asked, "Is that when you broke up with me?"

His fingers stopped moving, and his chest swelled as his lungs filled. "It is. I thought it would be best to stay away because I was about to be in the middle of the very world you needed to stay away from."

"Do you still think I'm just a poor unfortunate human who is Touched?"

I slid out of his arms and stepped back into the storm. Rain stung my face as I watched him emerge from beneath the jacket, that pleading look back in his eyes. It was all the answer I needed to see, and I walked around him, heading toward the house while wondering why it bothered me so much that he didn't believe in my gift. Maybe it was because it meant he really was like all the rest. He thought I was broken.

And maybe if I'd learned this yesterday, I would think it was true too. Touched. It would explain so much—that I wasn't some special snowflake with a mysterious past. Just a throwaway. Unwanted and abandoned because her mother recognized the wrongness in her baby and didn't want to deal with it.

But today, none of that mattered, even if it was true. Jac's people might not be interested in the Touched girl with the echoes, but they would certainly be interested in the woman with the Anderian Shard inside of her. The woman they wanted badly enough to risk exposing the supernatural community.

Boards creaked under my boots as I walked up the stairs. The scent of cat piss and mildew was strong enough to gag me, and I hoped the smell didn't extend inside the house.

"Bria, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Jac," I said, staring at the crooked wooden door as he stepped onto the porch. "Let's get this over with."

"You don't have to be nervous," he said, sliding his hand into mine. My fingers remained stiff, but I didn't pull away. "I brought you here so we can protect you. I don't know why the Anderians have targeted you, but they will pay for it. You'll be safe."

When I looked at him, he was smiling encouragingly, but it faded when I laughed. "You still think I'm just an innocent bystander caught in the middle, don't you? That this is all coincidence?"

"Bria."

Exasperation. Another response I was used to from him. I bared my teeth. "Buckle up buttercup, do I have news for you."