She’d found news coverage of my family’s deaths, at the very least. I could tell from the new way she looked at me, and if she knew, Kris knew. They might all know. But she didn’t call me over or try to ensnare me in some kind of bullshit therapeutic chat, for which I was eminently grateful.

Kori and Ian sat on the couch, talking in hushed tones with a map spread out on the coffee table in front of them. He was shirtless again, with a big white bandage taped over his shoulder. When he twisted to reach for a pen on the end table, I saw a matching bandage on his other side. The bullet had gone all the way through.

When Ian had winced and sucked in a sharp breath three times in less than a minute, Kori stood and tossed her pen onto the end table, mumbling something about stubborn-ass men who made no use of the available resources. She stomped down the hall and into the closet, where—presumably—she disappeared through the shadows, despite his protest.

Several minutes later, the closet door opened again and everyone who had a gun drew it, just in case. Then Kori stepped into the hall again with a woman I’d never seen before, but everyone else seemed to recognize.

“Meg, you really didn’t have to come,” Ian said, but Kori rolled her eyes and Meg waved away his congenial objection.

“You’d do the same for me or Steve.” This was Ian’s twin brother’s wife. Meghan. The Healer.

I watched, fascinated, as she sat on the center couch cushion and gently peeled off the bandage on the front of Ian’s shoulder. “Ready?” Meg asked, and Ian nodded, his jaw already clenched against the pain.

Meg took a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her pocket and rubbed a dollop onto her palms, then pressed her right hand against Ian’s bare, still-bloody wound.

He hissed again and Meghan stiffened, and a second later, thin black lines appeared on the back of her hand and across her arm, as though her veins were rotting from the inside out. I’d never seen anything like it, and could only assume that was normal for a Healer when no one else seemed impressed or upset.

A couple of minutes later, Ian’s jaw unclenched, and a minute after that, Meg let him go and slouched sideways against the back of the couch. When she’d caught her breath, she inspected the wound, which had closed but was still an angry red color, beneath smears of Ian’s blood. “That’s better.” She nodded, obviously satisfied. “Not perfect, but good enough that you should be able to use it, if you’re careful.”

“Thanks, Meghan.” Ian squeezed her hand and Kori took his bloody bandages to the bathroom, where she would burn them in the sink to destroy the viable blood sample. Gran brought two smaller clean ones, and Meghan carefully taped them over the wound again.

Then Kori took Meg back to wherever she and Steven were staying while he finished recuperating.

“Liv and Cam got called in,” Vanessa said when I settled into Gran’s rocker across the room. “They’ll be back, though, and hopefully I’ll have something for them to go on by then. The police questioned a couple of possible suspects in your case, both parolees with convictions for breaking and entering and burglary. But neither of them match your description, and neither have a history of violence.”

“So, no other leads?” I tried not to sound as disappointed as I felt.

“Not yet. But the police have plenty of...physical evidence. All the blood they found belongs to...your family. But it’s possible that Liv can find something they missed. She only needs a drop or two to get a feel for the owner, so if he bled on anything, she’ll be able to tell us if he’s anywhere within her range. The tricky part will be getting our hands on the evidence. Not impossible for a group with our varied talents. But too complicated a project for today.”

“Of course.” I had to remind myself that I was in no hurry. Kenley was in immediate danger, so her case had to come first. The sooner we found her, the faster they’d be free to help me hunt down and kill the bastard who’d taken my whole life from me.

“How can I help?” I said when Ian looked up at me and smiled. “What are we doing?”

“Van got us a partial list of the Tower syndicate’s real-estate holdings, so we’re going through the list of warehouses, looking for one that could possibly work for the blood farm.”

I stared at all the red circles on their map, trying to make sense of names and places I’d never seen before. “Any luck?”

“Too much luck.” Kori walked out of the closet and closed the door, stepping into our conversation as easily as she’d stepped out of the shadows. “Tower owns nearly two dozen warehouses in the city alone, and who knows how many in other areas. I’ve been to several of them, and the truth is that any one of them could house the blood farm. Julia has the money to set up all of the necessary supplies and equipment anywhere she wants, and it could take us days to search all of these individually.”

“And this is just a partial list,” Vanessa added, peeking over her laptop screen.

Ian looked grim as he studied his list, then circled another point on the map. “We need some way to narrow them down.”

“That’s what Kris is working on.” Skepticism was thick in Kori’s voice. “Did he tell you about the notebook?”

“Yeah. And about Noelle.” Did I sound bitter about the fact that she’d had him for so long, but I never would? I must have—Kori’s pale brows rose and I swear she almost smiled. “You guys are all messed up. Your relationships are, like...twisted.”