Shaye Archer Series

Emma Frederick bolts upright in bed, pulse racing. It must be a bad dream. Except it’s not. Crrrrrreeeeeeeeaaaaaaakkkkkkk. The sound of the loose step sends her body into overdrive, and she rushes for the secret room behind the wall. The screech of old hinges echoes through the house as he enters her bedroom. He starts whistling. Three blind mice. Three blind mice. She slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling her scream. He’s coming for her, but that can’t be. She killed him last month.

Street kids are disappearing, but how do you report it to the police when they don’t believe you exist to begin with? Jinx LeDoux bolts upright, gasping for air, her heart pounding. Something has happened. Something she can’t quite remember. Worse, she’s surrounded by darkness. She puts her hands on the ground, trying to grasp something familiar. The splintered wood of her abandoned apartment isn’t there. It’s something hard, cold, and round. She grabs the bars with both hands, but they don’t budge. She’s in a cage.

Nine years ago, police found Shaye Archer wandering in the French Quarter, beaten and abused and with no memory of the previous fifteen years, not even her name. But her last case uncovered more than she ever anticipated. She’s starting to remember.

Amber Olivier awakens in a cold sweat, the bitter taste of blood in her mouth and her head throbbing. Not even a hint of light reaches her. She reaches left, right, and above, but within inches, her hands meet a solid structure covered with satin. She bangs on the top of the enclosure, but the cushioned fabric only creates a dull thud. Beyond panicked, she screams until her throat burns and she doesn’t have another breath of air in her.

Madison Avery looks down from her penthouse as a light flicks on in the building across the street, and a man and woman enter the vacant apartment. As the woman steps onto a large blue rug, the man raises his hand to the back of her neck. The woman collapses, and Madison sucks in a breath. The man checks for a pulse then reaches into his pocket. He must be calling for help. But then Madison sees the glint of the knife. She grabs her cell phone and dials 911. If the police don’t catch him now, she can’t help them later.

The moon peers out from behind the dark clouds, but deep within the swamp, even the tiniest sliver is like a beacon in the pitch black. The path is barely discernable, but she knows the way. She steps up to the edge of the water and stares at the silver locket in her hand, a picture of two girls inside. One is her. The other…is waiting. She begins to sing, and the winds pick up her tune. The water stirs, and from the center of the angry current, the young woman emerges. Her haunting voice carries over the water.

Nicolas’s pulse shoots up, and he sucks in a breath. “Are you saying you willingly took the life of another person?” “Yes. God is the reason I killed her. Will you absolve me, Father?” As Nicolas fumbles for his phone to send an urgent text for help, he hears the chair in the other booth squeak, and a shadow passes in front of the screen. His pulse pounds in his temples and he starts to sway, dizziness washing over him. Help isn’t going to make it in time.