The rain continued to pelt the city. The storm raged; it was as if the heavens themselves were angry and wanted to wash the city clean. As Detective Stone approached Gwen's apartment building, he noticed three people standing outside in the rain—two men and a woman. He instantly knew who they were.
The Moirai family.
Scott, Dale, and Jane stood before him—one of the few remaining families not in hiding, one that even Stone couldn't bust. But his arrival years ago had forced them to change, to survive through different means if they wanted to remain free.
"Good evening, Scott, Dale, Jane. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Scott, the oldest and tallest, stood like a marble statue in the downpour—white hair plastered to his head, runner's build, eyes sharp and knowing. Dale was at least six inches shorter, rounder, contented—his slick black hair and constant toothpick gave him an almost lazy confidence. Jane, the youngest, had purple hair tied in a messy bun, her apron still over a light blue blouse and black slacks.
Despite their differences, they shared the same air of blood and purpose.
"Detective Stone," Scott greeted calmly. "These events trouble us. This wasn't supposed to happen."
Stone gestured toward the lobby. "Can we talk inside, at least out of the rain?"
Scott just looked at him and walked away.
"We're leaving," Dale said, flicking his toothpick away. "But know this—someone's breaking the rules. This wasn't the path set forward."
Jane's eyes locked with Stone's, her voice low and warning. "Everything could come undone—families, the city… all of it."
Three of the five free families with connections to Gwen, Stone thought. She has some powerful friends.
---
Detective Stone stepped off the elevator to find two uniformed officers near Gwen's door. Pulling his badge from his pocket, he slipped it around his neck.
The rookies stiffened instantly. The city had gone through a hiring craze, part of its "tougher on crime" campaign, but Stone's reputation still carried weight. Everyone knew his rule: you did your job right—or you got out of his way.
"Detective Stone," one said quickly, moving the yellow tape aside.
Inside, the apartment was an organized chaos. CSI was already there—James snapping photos, Oscar carefully collecting fragments of a shattered vase.
"Detective Stone, pleasure to meet you," Oscar greeted, surprised by the name recognition.
"Hello again, Oscar."
Oscar blinked. "Didn't think you'd remember me, sir."
"I remember the ones who do things right," Stone said, crouching to inspect the dark stains on the floor. "What do you have?"
Oscar frowned. "The damnedest thing—no prints, no scuff marks, no partials. Whoever did this was a professional."
Stone nodded slightly. He'd expected as much. "I'll take a look around."
Oscar handed him a pair of shoe socks. "Try not to ruin the scene."
"Appreciated," Stone muttered, slipping them over his loafers before stepping through Gwen's life.
Her apartment was small, quiet, and painfully personal. Pictures of happy moments lined the walls—snapshots of a woman who valued connection. Stone studied them silently, taking in the little clues of who Gwen really was. Her space was immaculate, everything where it belonged.
Whoever attacked her wasn't searching. They were waiting.
The kitchen gleamed but looked unused. The bedroom was more lived-in—two laundry baskets, an unmade bed, and an open window letting rain spill onto the floor. Stone crossed the room and brushed a faint smear of ash from the glass with his gloved finger.
Outside residue.
He stared at the black streak before closing the window.
Time for the real work. If I can't contain this, chaos will follow. But why her? Why now, after all these years?
---
11:30 p.m. – Saint James Hospital
The storm rumbled on. Lightning painted the city in white flashes.
Inside, the hospital was quiet—only the hum of machines and faint beeps of heart monitors. Bai had fallen asleep on a couch near the nurses' station, while William stood at the window, watching the rain.
Across the hall, a uniformed officer sat reading a newspaper. His stillness was deceptive. To an untrained eye, he looked bored—but William knew better. His instincts told him the man was a sentry, sharp and alert. Stone had kept his word—this was no ordinary cop.
The staff could sense it too. They didn't know why the hairs on their necks stood up, but William and Bai did.
Thunder cracked outside. Bai rose silently beside him, their eyes meeting. They didn't need words—they knew the danger was near.
The officer folded his paper, standing without a sound. A male nurse passed by, mumbling about the heat going out. He didn't realize the chill in the air wasn't mechanical.
"Ms. Brollachan is still nearby," Bai said quietly.
William nodded. Between the four of them, Gwen was safe. The question wasn't if the attacker would return, but when.
He closed his eyes.
:Where are you?:
Thunder boomed. Lightning lit the world—and in that flash, William saw it: a shadow perched on the bus stop roof. But when his eyes blinked, it was gone—and he was standing outside, drenched in rain.
Faster than I thought, he muttered.
Bai and the officer—Cain—watched through the window. Neither looked surprised at William's sudden relocation. Cain exhaled softly, his massive frame motionless, every muscle ready. His nametag gleamed under the light: CAIN.
A tree exploded in the park behind the bus stop, lightning striking hard. William blinked again and reappeared beside Bai.
"You're wet," Bai observed dryly.
"Yup."
Cain huffed and went back to his seat. For now, the danger had passed. But they'd all felt it—something dark was near, testing them.
William glanced toward Gwen's hospital bed, his eyes softening. "Not for nothing," he said quietly. "For her."
Bai followed his gaze. Marci slept in the chair beside Gwen, holding her sister's hand.
:Two sisters, not of blood, but family nonetheless.
William smiled faintly. Maybe I don't have a wife or children, he thought. But I do have family.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone.
---
12:00 a.m. – Sunday Morning, Gwen's Apartment
Detective Stone stepped into the hallway to answer his phone.
"Stone. Really? At the hospital? Thank you, Cain. Yes, Ms. Brollachan's still there. CSI just cleared out. I'll send relief in the morning—rookie detail should do fine for daylight hours."
He ended the call, pulling off his glove. The faint black smear of ash caught his eye.
I know what you are, he thought. And I will stop you.
---
Gwen sat in darkness.
She couldn't hear, couldn't see—just the pure void. No fear, no pain, only thought. She couldn't remember how she'd arrived here. She just knew this wasn't her apartment.
{Should I be afraid? I should be afraid. Why aren't I afraid?}
"Marci? MARCI! William! Bai! Anyone?"
No echo. Only silence.
Gwen took a breath and screamed again. "MARCI!"
---
5:30 a.m. – Saint James Hospital
Marci startled awake. The motion was sharp enough that Cain was instantly in the room, his movements almost inhumanly fast. William and Bai appeared at the doorway seconds later.
"Sorry, Officer—I just startled myself," Marci said, breathing heavily.
Dawn light seeped through the hallway windows. Bai and William smiled softly. Bai handed her a Styrofoam container.
Marci opened it to find hot eggs, bacon, and toast.
"We just came up from the cafeteria," Bai said casually, answering her unspoken thought.
"It's good to see you, Marci," William added, handing her a cup of coffee.
Marci smiled, a faint but genuine one despite the stitches on her lip. Looking between them and Gwen, she realized she wasn't alone. They weren't just Gwen's friends—they were her family too.
---
8:30 a.m. – 10th Precinct
Detective Stone sat in his chair, watching the sunrise. These were the rare moments he still appreciated—the birth of a new day.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
Officer Cain entered, posture precise.
"Good morning, sir."
"Shouldn't you be off and resting?" Stone asked.
Cain hesitated. "Sir… is she who I think she is?"
Stone looked up, measuring his tone. "She is. How did you figure it out?"
Cain just tapped the side of his nose. Stone couldn't help but smirk.
"I've never asked you for anything, sir," Cain said after a moment. "But I'm asking now—keep me on her protection detail."
Stone studied him carefully. "You realize what that means? What it risks?"
"Yes, sir. But if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here. Let me do this."
Stone stood, extending his hand. "You're a better friend than I deserve, Jacob."
"Thank you, sir."
As Cain turned to leave, Stone thought back to when they first met—Cain half-dead, bloodied by the Moirai after a job gone wrong. Stone had saved him, given him purpose, a new life in the badge.
And now, fate had brought them back to the edge of that same world.
---
End Chapter 8