Piper comes from across the courtyard, and when she sees the look on my face, she mouths that Tatiana is sleeping, and I nod a thank you as another item flies over my head. I point my finger towards the clubhouse, and Piper takes the hint that I want some help with this.

What the hell is going on with this damn club? This has to be the weirdest damn day of my life. Something has to be in the water. Everyone is losing it.

The bell on the gate rings. Winter and Storm ignore it, and I don’t see a prospect in sight. This place is falling the fuck apart. If I wanted to play the part of a greeter, my ass would be working at a department store. Storm’s cackles fill the air while I grumble and walk up to the gate.

I should have gone nomad, that’s what I should have done, instead of coming to a place where the women secretly run this shit. The others might not see it, but I do. The women here have invisible crowns and snicker behind our backs every chance they get.

When I peer through the peephole, my head shakes at the ghost standing before me. This can’t be right. This can’t be. I look again, and my eyes do not deceive me. What in the—

I scramble to hit the switch for the gate to open, and then take a step back. When a woman with long, jet-black hair looks up from the envelope in her hand, my heart stops. All that comes to my mind is Lana…

Of all days for this to happen, it would be today. I gesture her in, and take her rollaway bag before shutting the gate.

“Hi, I’m—”

I shake my head. “I know who you look like, so I’m going to assume you’re Lana’s sister?”

“Yes, my name is Akela. This was my sister’s last known address,” she says quietly as she peers down at the envelope. “I haven’t heard from her in months.”

All of it starts to make sense because we never could locate Lana’s cell phone after everything happened.

“May I?” I ask, and she hands over the envelope. I can’t believe what I am seeing. Lana wrote her sister from this address not long before she was killed. And Akela doesn’t even know her sister is dead. Oh, fuck.

“Shadow, who was at the—,” Winter’s voice cuts off as she comes around the corner and gets her first look at Lana’s sister. Tears fill her eyes as her trembling hand comes to her mouth. Winter shakes her head back and forth in disbelief. “I… I… I don’t understand,” she cries through her fingers. I step back as Winter walks up to this woman who could, for all intents and purposes, be Lana’s twin. I don’t want to even imagine how it will make Winter feel to tell this beautiful woman her sister has been dead for months. When Akela turns her body to face Winter, my biggest fear for this entire situation walks up fast behind me.

“Lana,” he croaks.

I reach out to stop him, but my movements are too slow. He grabs her elbow and spins her around towards him. With his first full look at her, he steps back quickly, shocked to silence. His eyebrows pull together and pain spreads across his face as his eyes bounce over features that bear an uncanny resemblance to his beloved Lana.

“What is going...,” Storm’s interruption fades at the sight of Akela, and she stumbles backwards from shock.

“You guys, Braxxon wants to know who was the woman at the gate that he saw on the clubhouse mon–” Piper cuts herself off. “No, no way,” she gasps.

As she takes in all the expressions, Akela squeaks a nervous laugh. She has no clue what the tears, looks of disbelief, and the mere shock of her presence means to the people around her. My gaze moves back to Pyro. His shades now cover his eyes, no doubt to hide his pain.

“Shadow… take Pyro into the club, uh, into the clubhouse for a drink,” Winter orders in a pain laced tone. I don’t argue with her. I can’t. I won’t. This is too much for everyone. I get that.

“You got it, First Lady.” I place one arm around Pyro’s shoulders and drag Akela’s rollaway bag beside us.

“Wait!” Akela’s voice stops us. “You’re Pyro? You’re my sister’s lover?”

How in the fuck? My eyes drop to the letter as Pyro groans in agony. FUCK!

“Pyro, go,” Winter pleads as tears pour from her eyes.

“C’mon, you don’t want to be here for this, man. You don’t,” I say in a voice low enough that only he can hear.

“I… I… fuck, brother,” he croaks.

I pat him hard on the back as we walk into the clubhouse. Our president looks pissed off until he gets a load of the agony laced across the almighty Pyro’s face. “What the fuck happened?”

As I push Pyro towards a barstool, I tell him. “Lana had a sister and she’s here.”

I don’t bother to say anything else. The Prez gets it. Hell, we all get it. This is going to fuck a lot of people up.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Pyro takes the shot I pour him, gulps it, and his hand quivers as he holds the glass up for another. As I fix him another, I answer my Prez. “As a heart attack.”

Pyro takes the bottle from my hands, lifts it to his mouth, and gulps the whiskey. When it dribbles out the side of his mouth, he stops and wipes his face on his sleeve. “She looks like her,” he hisses as he tilts his head back for more firewater.

“Your wife is telling her now…” I let the sentence drag, hoping Prez catches my meaning.

“Oh hell, she is going to be a mess.”

The sound of glass hitting the bar echoes, drawing our attention to a fuming Pyro.