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“In there.”
He points to the folder, which I start to leaf through. There are pages of notes from this Dr. Thompson, various psych evaluations. When I shuffle to the bottom of the folder, suddenly, I stop cold.
What the fuck is this.
The picture is old and grainy, maybe taken with a disposable camera. In it, two children—a boy and a girl—who appear to be about ten stand side by side. They also look to be nearly identical. Both with dark hair and blue eyes. Same noses. Same chins. Same…faces.
Twins. They’re fuckingtwins.
But, striking as they are, it’s not the kids that really capture my attention. It’s the man standing behind them with the silvered, long hair, the silver beard. Looming over them. A hand on each of their shoulders, fingers clawed and cruel looking.
Fuckingsmilingfor the camera.
It’s Seamus.
“Who the hell let him near two—”
And then I go still. The darkness inside of me begins to rage—quietly at first, then louder and louder as I lean closer to the image, my eyes piercing into it.
Intoher.
The top half of her face may have been covered, but I’ll die before I forget those eyes.
Those lips.
The delicate throat.
The incorruptible defiance, and sweet, intoxicating fragility.
Hades and Castle are saying something to me, but I don’t hear a word. Slowly, I turn the photo over, and my eyes zero in on the words scrawled across the back.
“Wait, what’s that?” Hades frowns. “I didn’t notice that before.”
Castle leans closer. “Yeah, what—” he goes still. As still as I am. “What the actual fuck?”
On the back of the photo is handwritten, “Daddy loves Una and Finn”.
It says the little psycho who tried to kill me is Seamus’ fuckingdaughter.
“Holy shit…” Hades growls, staring at the photo. He raises his gaze to Castle and I, his brow furrowing deeply. “Did you fucking know?”
“That that fucking sociopath hadkids?” Castle hisses. “No. No fucking idea.” He glances at me sideways, but I shake my head, mesmerized, still staring at the photo.
Of her.
My mysterious attacker—my lethally dangerous playmate—has a name.
Una.
“This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.”
When I raise my eyes, Hades’ are narrowed suspiciously.
“Something on your mind, God of Hell?” I hiss thinly.
He draws in a slow breath, his sharp blue eyes glinting fiercely in his olive-toned face. He shoves a hand through his dark hair as he sits back on the couch.
“You could say that,” he growls. “I’m just wondering when the skeletons in the Kildare closet will finally stop falling out all over the fucking living room floor. Because onceagain, I find myself caught off guard by some shit fromyourfamily’s fucking past that I have a sneaking suspicion is going to now involvemyfucking family.”
