Hayes sat on the edge of her desk, one foot dangling, the other planted against a drawer that refused to close.

  The surface in front of her was buried. Photographs. Yellowed transcripts. Handwritten notes pulled from archives that should have stayed buried. A symbol repeated across centuries. A voice described in three languages, all of them afraid.

  The Order of Valkyrie.

  A date circled in red ink.

  1517.

  A detective from another age, asking the same question she was asking now. Who was the creature? And why had it followed them across time?

  Hayes leaned forward, palms pressed into the mess, eyes searching for a pattern that refused to appear. The pieces were there. She could feel it. But the shape wouldn’t form.

  A knock cut through the silence.

  She didn’t look up.

  “Cannon,” she said, voice flat, “please. I do not need another minute of this.”

  The door opened anyway.

  “Well,” a familiar voice said gently, “this is not how I expected to find you.”

  Hayes froze.

  She turned, then stood too fast, chair scraping behind her.

  “Mom.” She crossed the room in two steps. “What are you doing down here?”

  Her mother closed the door softly behind her, eyes moving over the office. The chaos. The exhaustion. The woman she barely recognized.

  “You haven’t been home in two days,” she said. “You didn’t answer your phone. So I came to check.”

  Hayes exhaled and rubbed her face.

  “I’ve been busy,” she said. “Just… cases. Trying to connect a few things.”

  She gestured vaguely at the desk.

  “Come in. Sit. What do you need?”

  Her mother didn’t sit.

  “I’m not here because I need something,” she said. “I’m here because you do.”

  She stepped closer and lowered her voice.

  “Hayes, what are you doing to yourself? Come home. Rest. Just for a night.”

  Hayes shook her head.

  “You know how I am,” she said. “There’s a case. And this one’s different.”

  She paused.

  “It’s personal.”

  Her mother’s eyes softened. She already knew.

  “This is about your partner.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t leave him out there,” Hayes said. “I have to find him.”

  She swallowed.

  “His family must be terrified.”

  Her mother watched her carefully.

  “Have you gone to see them?” she asked. “His wife and child.”

  Hayes didn’t answer.

  The room seemed to tilt.

  “No,” she said finally.

  Her mother frowned. “Why?”

  Hayes lifted her head, eyes sharp now.

  “Because he’s my partner,” she said. “I’m responsible for him. If something’s gone wrong, I need to find him first. I won’t walk into their home with nothing but fear.”

  Her mother’s voice dropped.

  “Hayes. He hasn’t come home in two days.”

  The words landed heavier than the files on the desk.

  “Dean’s wife..." her mother continued. “She's been trying to reach you. She said an officer dropped by to tell her something was wrong, that the department was handling it.”

  Hayes looked up slowly.

  “So Cannon went by,” she said. “That’s… good.”

  She turned away, staring at the wall, jaw tight.

  “I can’t be the one to tell his child he's father isn’t coming home,” she said quietly.

  Her voice cracked despite her effort.

  “It brings back too many memories.”

  Her mother studied her for a moment, then smiled softly.

  “Come,” she said. “Sit.”

  Hayes hesitated, then lowered herself into the chair behind the desk. It creaked under her weight.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said. “There’s just… a lot in my head. This job doesn’t stop.”

  Her mother’s gaze drifted around the room. The walls. The desk. The chair.

  “I remember the last time I stood in this office,” she said. “Your father was here. Lead detective. Sitting right where you are now.”

  Hayes stiffened.

  “He was brilliant,” her mother continued. “Smart. Handsome. Everyone trusted him.”

  “Mom,” Hayes said quietly, “please don’t.”

  Her mother looked back at her.

  “What do you remember about him?”

  Hayes swallowed. Her eyes shone.

  “He’s my hero.”

  Her mother nodded.

  “He wasn’t just yours. He was everyone’s. Kind. Warm. He made people feel safe.”

  She smiled faintly.

  “He carried too much, though. Always did.”

  Her voice softened.

  “I remember the day you came into this office and told him you wanted to be just like him. He tried to talk you out of it. He knew the cost.”

  She laughed under her breath.

  “But you’d grown up watching his cases, listening to his stories. There was no stopping you.”

  Hayes stared at her hands.

  “You ran straight to him,” her mother said. “He trained you himself. Made you a junior detective at eighteen. The youngest they’d ever had.”

  “And Cannon was under him too. You two were inseparable.”

  Time settled between them.

  “Yeah,” Hayes said. “Until I messed everything up.”

  Her mother’s expression hardened.

  “Don’t you dare say that.”

  Hayes looked up.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “What your father did, anyone would have done,” her mother said. “I would have done the same for you.”

  Hayes shook her head.

  “It was my fault. All of it. What’s happening to Dean right now is my fault too.”

  Her voice trembled.

  “If I hadn’t sent him to watch that rich idiot who had nothing to do with this case, maybe he wouldn’t be missing.”

  Her mother leaned closer.

  “You don’t know that,” she said. “Dean could have been the target from the start.”

  She held Hayes’s gaze.

  “You can’t keep blaming yourself every time things go wrong.”

  Then, firmly, “And for the last time, you did not cause your father’s death.”

  Hayes laughed bitterly.

  “You make it sound noble. It wasn’t.”

  She stood, pacing.

  “I went out there alone. Didn’t tell him. The meetup went bad. I was supposed to be the one taken.”

  Her voice broke.

  “I was supposed to be the one shot.”

  She stopped moving.

  “But he came anyway. Tried to save me. And he paid for it.”

  Silence filled the room.

  Her mother stood and took her hand.

  “What good has blaming yourself done?” she asked gently. “Look at you. Surrounded by answers, yet you can’t see them because you think you’re the problem.”

  She squeezed her hand.

  “If you believe you’re the problem, how will you ever find the solution?”

  Hayes didn’t respond.

  “Let it go,” her mother said. “All this weight you carry. It won’t help you.”

  She smiled sadly.

  “If your father were here, he’d tell you the same.”

  Tears slipped down Hayes’s face.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “For the first time… I’m lost.”

  Her mother pulled her into a hug.

  “It’s okay to be confused,” she said. “But you can’t stay there.”

  She held her tighter.

  “Rest. Clear your mind. The answer will come.”

  Hayes nodded against her shoulder.

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  Her mother stepped back and reached for the bag she’d been holding.

  She set it on the desk and opened it. The smell of food filled the office.

  They sat together, sharing breakfast among files and old ghosts.

  After a while, Hayes looked up.

  “Do you think,” she asked quietly, “he’s proud of me?”

  Her mother smiled without hesitation.

  “If I know your father, and I do, then yes. More than proud.”

  She glanced at the desk.

  “That chair. That office. Even that pencil.”

  She pointed.

  “He loved that pencil. No one’s touched it since.”

  Hayes followed her gaze.

  “You earned all of this,” her mother said. “And you’re capable of more than you realize.”

  She leaned in.

  “You just have to believe it.”

  Hayes smiled through her tears and looked at her mother.

  Meanwhile,

  At the mansion. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that made impatience louder.

  Isaac shifted in his seat, fingers drumming against the armrest.

  “Where is he?”

  Kyle didn’t look up. “He said he’d be here. We spoke a while ago.”

  Jessie scoffed. “And you believed him?”

  Kyle met her eyes. “Patience, sister. He’ll come.”

  Isaac leaned forward. “We’ve waited an hour. He’s not coming.”

  Jessie stood abruptly. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. Waiting for Jackson.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not coming.”

  Kyle rose, calm but firm. “He will.”

  He lifted his glass, took a measured sip.

  Isaac exhaled sharply. “If he planned to show up, he’d be here by now.”

  Kyle set the glass down.

  “He’ll come because he has nothing to hide,” he said. “If he does, we’ll know soon enough.”

  He folded his hands.

  “If he’s innocent, he proves it by showing up. If he’s guilty, he runs. And when he runs, we act.”

  Silence followed.

  “For now,” Kyle finished, “we wait.”

  He sat.

  Isaac stood instead. “You all know I’ve never been good at waiting.”

  He left without another word.

  Jessie lingered, arms crossed.

  “I try not to concern myself with Jackson,” she said quietly. “But somehow, he pulls everyone into his orbit.”

  She looked at Kyle. “What I wouldn’t do for either of you.”

  Then she turned and walked out.

  Kyle remained alone, staring at nothing.

  “He’ll come,” he murmured. “He’s not guilty.”

  He reached for his phone, hesitated, then stood and left.

  Jackson moved through the alley with unhurried steps, keys in hand. His car waited at the far end, half-lit by the dying sun.

  A voice cut in behind him.

  “Forgot our appointment today?”

  Jackson stopped.

  He glanced over his shoulder, amused. “That’s today?”

  He turned fully, smirk intact.

  “Enough games, Jackson,” Kyle said.

  Jackson tilted his head. “Who said I’m playing?”

  He took another step forward.

  Kyle was suddenly in front of him. “Where are you going?”

  Jackson smiled. “Take a guess. Here’s a hint. It’s not the mansion.”

  He tried to pass.

  Kyle grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Where the hell are you headed?”

  Jackson met his stare. “Out of town…It's a personal business.”

  Kyle paused. “Now? That’s convenient.”

  He released Jackson’s arm but didn’t step back.

  “The police are tearing the city apart,” Kyle said. “Its been two days, no sign of you. There are rumors everywhere.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “And now you leave?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Yes! Because I have nothing to do with any of it. I won’t waste my time.”

  He moved again. Kyle stopped him.

  “What happened to Detective Dean?”

  Jackson turned slowly. “What are you implying?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Kyle said. “You were the last person to see him.”

  Jackson’s smile returned, thin this time.

  “You think I did something?”

  Their eyes locked.

  “Do you really think I play small games?” Jackson asked. “I have bigger concerns.”

  He pulled free and stepped away.

  Kyle followed. “Bigger than this?”

  Jackson stopped.

  He looked back, amused. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”

  He reached for his car.

  “If anything happens to Dean—”

  Jackson cut him off. “Stop.”

  He faced Kyle fully.

  “You don’t get to threaten me over a cop who lost his way watching me. If you’re so good at finding people, maybe help your friends.”

  He opened the door.

  Kyle’s voice was cold. “You know the rules. If I find out you’re involved, it won’t end well.”

  Jackson smiled as he got in.

  “Ah, Kyle the Great. Relax. I’m not pulling your strings today.”

  He started the engine.

  “Oh, and tell Isaac,” he added, “if he sends another night stalker after me, it’ll be his last.”

  The car pulled away, disappearing down Brooklyn lane as the sun slipped below the horizon.

  Kyle stood there, unmoving. He raised his phone.

  “He’s on the move,” he said. “Keep an eye on him. I want to know where he goes and what he’s doing.”

  A pause.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The line went dead.

  Kyle didn’t move as the light faded. He should have gone home.

  Instead, he turned toward the GrayHaven Police Department.

  The precinct buzzed with low urgency when he entered. Phones rang. Footsteps echoed. He walked straight to the desk and didn’t lower his voice.

  “I want to speak to Detective Hayes.”

  Hayes sat with her mother, mid-laughter, the tension briefly loosened.

  A knock interrupted them.

  Cannon leaned in. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Hayes raised a brow. “Who?”

  Cannon stepped aside. “You should see for yourself.”

  She sighed, stood, and touched her mother’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

  Out in the hall, her patience was already thin.

  “This better be good,” she said. “Who’s asking for me?”

  Kyle stood waiting.

  “Hello Detective,” he said calmly. “Do you have a minute?”

  Hayes didn’t hesitate. “Interrogation room.”

  Cannon stopped her at the door. “Who is this guy?”

  She glanced at Kyle. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  The door closed behind them.

  Hayes didn’t sit.

  “Kyle, right?” she said. “We don’t have much time. What do you want?”

  Kyle met her gaze. “Given the current situation, I see you’re short a partner.”

  “And did you come to state the obvious,” Hayes shot back, “or to report something?”

  “Your brother was the last to see Detective Dean. We’ve been tracking him for forty-eight hours. Yet Nothing.” she added.

  Kyle nodded once. “You won’t find him… Jackson I mean, you won't find him.”

  Hayes’ expression hardened. “What do you mean we won’t find him?”

  Cannon leaned forward. “Is he… dead?”

  “No,” Kyle said. “He just doesn’t want to be found. He made that clear this morning.”

  Cannon’s eyes narrowed. “You saw him and didn’t report it. So why are you here?”

  “Because I want to help you find Detective Dean.”

  Hayes moved fast. She locked the door.

  “What do you know?”

  Kyle reached into his jacket and set a flash drive on the table.

  “For starters, I’ve narrowed down four possible locations where he could be held.”

  Cannon frowned. “Possible locations?”

  “Did you think they’d keep him in one place?” Kyle said. “They’re mobile. Agile. Hard to pin down.”

  Hayes studied him. “The Order of Valkyrie.”

  Kyle paused. “You know them?”

  “Only the name,” she said. “What do you have?”

  “Very little,” Kyle replied. “They don’t exist by legal standards. They're ghosts to the law.”

  He smiled faintly.

  “But history disagrees.”

  Hayes stepped closer. “How do you know all this? Who are you really?”

  “And why help us?” Cannon added.

  Kyle met Hayes’ eyes. “Dean and I…share common ground.”

  Hayes wasn’t satisfied. “When I came to your mansion days ago, all you cared about was living well. What changed?”

  Kyle’s tone sharpened.

  “Then, the stake wasn't as high as it is now.”

  The room went quiet.

  “Whatever they want from him,” Kyle continued, “it’s not money. It’s information. And if he can’t provide it, they’ll kill him.”

  He looked at her steadily.

  “Are you really in a position to turn down help?”

  Hayes sat.

  “You said you have the locations.”

  “Yes.”

  Cannon spoke first. “You give them to us, you walk out.”

  Kyle shook his head. “No. I give you the locations, and you keep me informed.”

  “Why?” Cannon asked.

  “My only interest is keeping Dean alive,” Kyle said. “I don’t care who takes credit.”

  “And the people who took him?” Cannon pressed.

  “They’ll meet justice,” Kyle replied. “Just not by my hand.”

  Silence stretched.

  Cannon sighed. “The drive.”

  Kyle smiled. “Do I have your word?”

  Hayes tilted her head. “Hard to give my word to someone without a last name.”

  Kyle chuckled softly. “Kyle Blackwood.”

  Cannon blinked. “Blackwood? I’ve heard that name.”

  Hayes hadn’t moved. “You’re lying.”

  “Why would I?” Kyle said. “I am a Blackwood.”

  Her eyes sharpened. “The Blackwoods went extinct over a century ago.”

  “So you were told,” Kyle replied.

  Hayes folded her arms. “If you’re alive, why disappear for a hundred years?”

  Cannon looked between them. “What’s the big deal?”

  Hayes answered without looking away. “They founded GrayHaven.”

  Kyle smiled.

  Cannon frowned. “So what wiped them out?”

  “No one knows,” Kyle said. “We simply vanished.”

  Hayes leaned in. “Then where have you been?”

  “In silence,” Kyle said. “By choice.”

  She studied him. “And now you’re back?”

  “Are you going to punish me for my ancestors’ decisions?” he asked calmly.

  She held his gaze, then nodded once.

  “All right. You help us. We keep you in the loop.”

  Kyle smiled. “Perfect.”

  He set the flash drive on the table.

  “I’ll be expecting your call.”

  As he turned to leave, Hayes stopped him.

  “The others, they’re Blackwoods too?”

  “Yes.”

  “And…Jackson?”

  Kyle paused at the door. “Yes! He's one of us. For now.”

  He left.

  Cannon exhaled. “Why are they all so…”

  He stopped himself.

  “Never mind. Send this to IT. Let’s see if there’s truth here.”

  Hayes didn’t answer.

  She stared at the flash drive.