Their parents had held on to the younger child desperately after Mark’s death, terrified of losing their last, remaining favorite child.
They hadn’t objected as Gypsy drew further and further away emotionally. Sometimes they had watched her helplessly, but they had loved Kandy.
Giving her head a hard shake, Gypsy left the apartment, closing the door behind her and listening carefully for the locks to engage. When they did, she forced herself to move to the stairs that led to her own apartment, and the darkness that couldn’t be dispelled no matter how many lights she turned on.
She knew where her sister went on the rare occasions she stayed out late. Kandy liked to play poker and over the years, several of Mark’s friends had taught her how to play it with deadly skill. The small amusement had begun when Kandy turned twelve and Mark’s best friend, Jason, had arrived at the house to speak to her parents about the image consulting business that had been floundering sharply since Mark’s death.
Kandy had been playing poker with a dummy hand at the small card table where Mark had taught them both to play. From there, as she’d grown older, he’d sometimes taken her with him to his card games when her parents were busy. Her parents had never, not even once, asked Gypsy to watch her little sister.
Not that she blamed them after she’d failed her older brother.
Jason and his friends got together monthly now and had been known to play for entire weekends.
And they always invited Kandy.
Stepping into her apartment, she made a mental note to call Jason—maybe he would know what the hell was going on with her sister.
Because Gypsy couldn’t allow herself to figure it out on her own. If she did, she would have to admit that Kandy might not be an orphan, but in all the ways that mattered, she had definitely become an only child.
And the guilt of that would only open her to the nightmares she’d fought to put behind her so long ago.
...
The next two days were relatively free of Rule and his sidekick, as Dane Vanderale was being dubbed. Rumor was that Jonas Wyatt had flown with his fiancée and child to D.C. to attend a Senate hearing that had been called regarding the reorganization of the Bureau of Breed Affairs that was being speculated on.
According to the press, despite the fact that there was no official announcement or details regarding the rumor, the Bureau of Breed Affairs and the Breed Ruling Cabinet were already in the process of expanding the offices when the Senate Oversight Committee on Breed Affairs had caught wind of it and called the immediate, private hearing.
It gave Gypsy the chance she needed to get a few jobs finished that she’d left hanging because of the distraction he represented. But she admitted, at least to herself, that some spark that had come into life when he began “harassing” her was no longer there.
Pulling the Jeep into the small parking area of her apartment that night after completing the final chore, she stared into the brilliance of the desert moon.
For the briefest moment terror raced through her, struck at her senses and reminded her of the danger she faced each time she entered the nightlife and moved among the Breeds and their enemies.
Especially the enemies. The animals. The monsters that murdered, that raped . . .
A horror that had almost destroyed her once before.
A hard shake of her head pushed it back, her heart rate lowering once again as she activated the control that had the tough, flexible shell of the Jeep top rolling into place and locking securely.
This time, she pulled the remote fob from her jeans, and as she stepped from the Jeep and closed the door behind her, she automatically locked it before moving quickly for the comfort of the secure apartment.
She had a few hours to rest before her alarm reminded her that she was due at the Covert Law Enforcement Agency, where she manned the phones several nights a week in case any of the agents in the field called in for immediate help.
Once she returned home, she turned into just another party girl, just another woman on the hunt for her next dance, her next drink or her next potential lover.
Before she became the opposite of who she was, and what she always wanted to be.
As that thought drifted through her mind, the short knock on her front door had a frown creasing her brows. Stepping from the kitchen to the short wide entryway, she pressed the door camera, restraining a sigh at the sight of the man standing patiently on the other side.
“Come on in, Jase.” Deactivating the locks, she watched as the man her brother had called his best friend stepped into the apartment.
Jase wasn’t as tall as Mark had been, and he wasn’t as handsome, but he was cute in his own way with short brown hair, deep brown eyes and a stocky rather than lean body. Dressed in dark slacks, black dress boots and a white shirt open at the collar, he’d obviously discarded his tie after leaving the office.
If it hadn’t been for Jase, Gypsy didn’t know how her parents would have survived after Mark’s death. He’d taken over Mark’s job at the image consulting firm, did all the things Mark had done to help her parents and Mark’s fiancée, Thea.
He and Thea had married several years before, when Thea had been promoted to assistant DA in Window Rock.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His smile wasn’t as open and filled with love as Mark’s had always been, but it was familiar even if she’d never stopped seeing a shadow of an accusation buried in the dark depths.
“Hey, Jase,” she greeted him, allowing the brief hug he always insisted on. He was one of the few people who had refused to allow her to just disappear inside herself after Mark’s death. “I was wondering when you would get around to a visit.”
He shot her a chastising look as she moved away from him. “If you would come in to work occasionally instead of waiting for assignments, then you wouldn’t have to wonder when you would see me.”
She leaned against the counter as he took a seat on one of the stools on the opposite side.
“I’ve been busy.” She shrugged. “I do have other jobs, you know.”
He snorted at that, frowning. “How many times have I tried to get you to take full time at the office, Gypsy?”
McQuade Image Consulting was growing slowly, she knew, thanks to the way her parents had thrown themselves into the business after their eldest child’s death and Jason’s steady determination.
“I like the variety.” She liked not seeing the pain in her parents’ eyes whenever Mark’s name came up.
Crossing his arms and bracing them on the counter as she busied herself straightening what didn’t need straightening, he watched her closely for long seconds.
“Your mother called you earlier,” he reminded her gently. “You didn’t return her call.”
No, she hadn’t.
Lifting her gaze, she stared back at Jason quietly, coolly.
She didn’t discuss her parents with anyone, even Jason.
“I need you to come in to the office in the morning,” he said, concern filling his dark brown eyes. “We have a potential contract coming in and I’m going to need you and possibly Kandy both on this if I can get it to pan out.” His expression hardened. “And don’t even think about refusing, Gypsy, because your father has busted his ass to pull this job in and I won’t have the fact that we’re short a hand causing us to lose it.”
Her father had taken on the business that had first been Mark’s dream and steadily pushed it until it was a money-making enterprise.
“I’ll be there,” she promised, though her job as image consultant was one she tried to ignore whenever possible.
“Good.” He nodded before his jaw tensed and he glanced at the bank of windows, carefully covered by heavy drapes. When he moved his gaze back to her, it was concerned once again. “I got your message earlier. You talked to Kandy the other night?”