The door opened into a sitting room decorated in shades of creams and gold. There was a TV, a desk with a computer, a couch and chair, and a small refrigerator. French doors led into a large, well-appointed bedroom with a king-size bed. The bathroom was enormous, with a spa tub that she couldn't wait to try out. Someone had placed her bags on the bed already.

"It's far more than I need, Thomas," she said, returning from her walk-through. "I think I could fit my apartment in here about three times.”

"These are your rooms here at the Coven. Forever.”

"No, Thomas—”

He held up a hand to cease her protest. "The Hoskins and Monahan families contribute a lot of money to the Coven, and you are both. Don't say another word. These are your rooms whether you decide to stay here or not. Forever." Again with the tone that said don't argue.

Mira opened and closed her mouth, but didn't know what to say in response to any of this.

He turned and walked to the door, but paused before he left. "If you need anything else, let me know. You're family, Mira, and we'll do anything for you.”

She flopped down on the bed the moment Thomas was gone and opened the photo album. Within were page after page of glossy photographs of people she didn't know. Strangers who didn't have to be strangers but for the overprotectiveness of her parents. They'd traded her life away in an effort to shield her, yet the danger had still found her. Indeed, the danger was double as a result of her parents' attempt to keep her safe.

Wouldn't it have been better for her to grow up knowing what she was and becoming stronger in her abilities, so strong that Crane and the Duskoff never would've even thought about coming after her?

She shook her head. She didn't know what her parents' reasoning had been because she'd never known her parents.

Mira flipped through the pages, once in awhile coming across a woman who looked a lot like her—a cousin? Sometimes she'd find a picture of a younger Thomas.

Then she turned a page and found photos of her parents. The entire back half of the album was filled with them— when they were young and laughing and surrounded by people who loved them.

Tears plopped on the plastic-protected pages before Mira even realized she was crying.

THOMAS WAS AT HIS MOST DANGEROUS WHEN HE was calm. He always went quiet and subdued when exceptionally pissed off.

Two years Jack's senior, Thomas had always been like a big brother to him, and, like a younger brother, Jack danced on the edge of his temper often.

Wincing at the soreness of his face, Jack rubbed his cleanly shaven jawline and watched Thomas pace in front of a bank of windows in his office.