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“Foreman was the opposite,” said Keenan. “Loud and brash. Always acting out. But then, ensnares are natural-born tricksters, aren’t they? I remember he used to create traps to amuse himself. Sometimes the traps were physical, like nets or tubes. Other times, he’d trap people’s minds inside their bodies, stopping the brain from communicating with the body—it meant they couldn’t move or speak.”
“His snares never stood up well to attacks, though,” Tanner remembered. “And they usually only lasted twenty seconds or so. But his ability would have strengthened with age.”
Levi folded his arms. “The question is … which one is most likely to be the killer?”
“I’d say Stephens purely because I found him creepy,” said Larkin. “But I don’t think we can really base our suspicion on how they acted as kids. People change.”
“Whoever it is, something must have happened recently in their life to spur them into suddenly going after the people they hold responsible for their pain,” said Tanner.
Knox nodded. “There must have been some sort of trigger.”
Tanner took a deep, pained breath that tightened his chest. “If one of the kids had just told us, just hinted at it …” He’d have obliterated the abusers in an instant.
“You can understand why they didn’t talk,” said Larkin, her mouth downturned. “But I sure wish they had.”
Yeah, Tanner could understand it, because shame was crawling through his system. He’d noticed the haunted expressions Harry and the others sometimes wore, but he’d never wondered at it. He’d always attributed their hurt to the other shit that went on there. Plus, everyone had a sad story of how they’d come to be at Ramsbrook—it hadn’t occurred to him that something else could be going on.
“Harry got them help, in his way,” said Levi. “It didn’t save him from whoever’s been hunting kids from his dorm, though.”
And that only made it worse. Tanner was glad the tutors were dead, but slit throats? They’d deserved a fuck of a lot worse than that. “Giles and Shephard died too easily, too quickly. They should have been the ones who fucking suffered, not Harry and the others—they were victims.”
“So is whoever killed them,” said Larkin. “That’s the worst thing. We’ll be killing someone who’s already been through enough.”
Exhaling heavily, Knox pushed to his feet. “I need to speak with Harper about something.”
Tanner suspected that his Prime didn’t have anything in particular to speak with her about. Suspected that Knox simply wanted to see her, wanted to touch the one thing that calmed him. Just the same, Tanner was itching to see the person who had the singular ability to still the chaos in his head. Devon.
Anger, guilt, and disgust were clawing at him. The only thing that would give him any relief from it was her. He knew it, because she’d done it for him several times in the past. She just had no idea she’d done it.
They’d slept in her apartment the previous night. He’d taken her in her bed, just as he’d told her he would. Earlier that morning, he’d dropped her and Harper at Urban Ink before leaving with Knox and the other sentinels to visit Milton. She’d be finishing work soon, but he didn’t want to wait that long to see her.
“I’ll come with—” Tanner cut off as a familiar male mind reached out to his.
Thought you should know that Devon is on the move, said Dez, one of the two members of Knox’s Force who Tanner had assigned to watch over her. He’d relieved Lex and Enzo of guard duty, since they’d messed the fuck up by taking their eye off the ball long enough that she was snatched right in front of them.
She’s leaving work early? asked Tanner. Her shift didn’t usually finish for another hour.
Two guys came to the studio to see her. She introduced them to me as Adam and Hunter; said all three of them were going for a fancy dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the day she and her anchor bonded—apparently, it’s an annual thing.
Oh, was it now? What he’d very much like to damn well know was why she hadn’t forewarned him about it. Feeling a muscle in his cheek jump, Tanner asked, Where exactly are they going for dinner?
*
As the waitress set their drinks and complimentary hot bread on the table, Adam shot the blonde a winning smile that had her blushing. “Thanks so much,” he said.
The ice tinkled against the glass as Devon picked up her soda and took a sip. This restaurant was highly popular within the Underground, so only those who made a reservation a week in advance stood a chance of getting a table. Adam had pre-booked their table, just as he always did this time of year to celebrate the anniversary of their anchor bond. To her shame, she’d forgotten about it. Adam thankfully wasn’t upset by that, but she still felt bad.
