In this particular case, what they hunted appeared to have a craving for young children, and, given said youngsters usually tended to be in the care of their mothers, they went missing too. Heinous and unacceptable, which was why the Zodiac Warriors currently converged on the creature’s lair. It took them some time to track it, the sewer system under New York City extensive and the monster sly enough to cover its tracks. However, Aquarius, who excelled in the tech field, had been working hard to triangulate its hunting grounds.

Their biggest break came from the mole people—persons who’d chosen to live underground for various reasons, most of them economic. Some of the fleeing subterranean dwellers had emerged from their sewer homes to announce the demise of friends and family. Alas, they’d not been taken seriously, despite taking their concerns to the cops. At least the officer who spoke with them filed a report, which ended up on Aquarius’ info-searching radar. It turned out they were telling the truth. An entire community of tunnel dwellers had disappeared, but no one noticed—or cared—until the creature expanded its hunting grounds and dared to start snatching non-moles. Given the public outcry, law enforcement searched for the perpetrator, but they were ill-equipped to deal with an actual monster.

“I am maybe ten seconds away from the main cavern,” Leo heard Capricorn state through his earpiece.

“Time to turn the goggles off, boys,” added Scorpio. “Tossing the flashbang and glow sticks in five seconds, starting now.”

They’d worn night vision goggles as they made their approach. However, the plan was always to remove them before the fight so as to not be blinded when they lit up the place. After all, a monster who chose to live in the dark might be at a disadvantage if exposed to light.

A push of the goggles put them resting on Leo’s head. He then gripped a revolver in his left hand and a sword in his right. Depending on what they faced, one or the other might prove useless. He still recalled the chitinous creature they’d taken out a few years back with a carapace that sent bullets ricocheting.

At the sight of the bright flash that exploded up ahead, emitting a strident sound, he charged, racing as best he could through the muck that sucked at his boots, splashing shit—literal shit—all over as he made his way into the target chamber.

A chamber of nightmare.

In the greenish glow they’d created, he could plainly see the remains and clothing of the monster’s victims strewn all over. Each step he took crunched, the brittle bones sucked dry of their marrow, which included the tiny skeletons of children and infants. Leo’s stomach tightened as he thought of his newborn daughter—thankfully safe at home.

Or so he hoped.

He’d asked—begged—his wife, Kylie, to go somewhere more secure given the threat in the city, but she’d refused. “Isn’t my big bad warrior husband going to protect me?” Said with a sneer. Things had been rocky with them for a while, and the birth of their child hadn’t helped. After this mission, he’d make a point to spend more time at home and see if they could find a way to reconnect, even as he feared the marriage was over.

“Where is it?”

Leo didn’t need his earpiece to hear Scorpio’s query. They’d entered from three different spots and swept their guns back and forth looking for their target.

“Don’t tell me it’s out hunting,” groaned Capricorn.

That would be the worst of luck because, most likely, if the monster realized they’d infiltrated its lair, it would relocate, meaning they’d have to start the hunt all over again.

The smell in the place—rotting sewage and rancid meat—made it hard to think when all Leo wanted to do was spew. Yeah, even tough warriors sometimes puked.

A sudden drop of liquid plunked from above, making Leo crane to look. He caught sight of a thing of gangly limbs, with horns and a visage even a mother couldn’t love, that hung upside down like a spider, its malevolent gaze fixed on him. He yelled, “The fucker’s on the ceiling.”

Even as Leo shouted, he took aim and fired, the silencers on his weapon only dulling the booming blasts in the confined space.

Somehow, he missed. The monster moved fast, dropping from its perch as the bullets sprayed where it had lain in wait.

It threw itself at Leo, who dropped the gun and grabbed the sword in two hands to swing. As his blade arced, he had time to see the gaping maw, with its jagged and sharp teeth, and the red pinprick in the depth of the monster’s pupils. As his sword connected with its neck, the creature exhaled, the fetid breath washing over Leo’s face.

The last thing the monster ever did.

Plop. The severed head landed in the muck, and the body collapsed.

“What the fuck is a wendigo doing in New York?” grumbled Scorpio as he slogged to Leo’s side.

“Easy eating, I imagine,” Capricorn’s comment.

“Who’s carrying it for disposal?” Leo asked, because they never left monsters behind for civilians to find.

“I’ll take the head,” Scorpio muttered with a grimace as he grabbed it by a slimy horn.

“I’m really thinking we should revisit the whole warrior who kills doesn’t have to do cleanup,” grumbled Capricorn as he reached to yank the body from the sewage.

“Not my fault I’m better at my job,” Leo boasted.

“Are we heading straight to Tower?” Scorpio asked.

“Reports seemed to indicate only one creature,” Capricorn stated as he stood with the wendigo’s body draped over his shoulder.

“And wendigos aren’t known to hunt in groups,” Leo added, recalling some of the lore he’d learned ages ago. Upon their ascension to Zodiac Warrior, they were given a book on the various threats they might have to deal with.

“Who’s checking that pile in the middle to make sure there’s nothing else hiding?” Scorpio asked, even as he began to poke at it one-handed with the tip of his blade.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll check to make sure there’s nothing else,” Leo offered.

“Sounds good. We’ll give Aquarius the all-clear,” Capricorn stated.

Next step would be notifying authorities, anonymously of course. The world didn’t know about monsters—or the Zodiac Warriors—and they preferred to keep it that way. Their job stopped once the threat was eliminated. The cops could sort the bodies and notify families. At least there would be no more victims.

As Leo crunched his way to the mound in the middle, his gaze was stopped by something bright pink draped at the very top. A baby’s footed pajama with a unicorn on the front.

His mouth went dry, and he rocked on his heels.

Capricorn noticed. “What’s up, bro?”

“No.” It couldn’t be. He’d left his wife and child only a few hours ago to prepare for this mission. The pair had been in their apartment. Safe. He panicked for nothing.

His glance next fell on a beige sherpa jacket, identical to the one Kylie had been wearing of late. Bloodstains had turned parts of it red.

It could be anyone’s. After all, Kylie had recently bought it from a chain clothing store.

Scorpio muttered, “Oh fuck,” as he plucked a chain, barely visible against the fabric, and dangled it.

Grief swarmed every inch of Leo’s body because there was no mistaking the pendant of diamonds in the shape of his constellation. He’d given it to his wife on their wedding day.

Leo collapsed to his knees, uncaring of the filth, numb to the stench and the fact he knelt on bones.

Nothing mattered.

Kylie and his baby daughter were dead, and it was all his fault.

He should have found the monster faster.

Should have forced Kylie to go to Tower, where it would have been safe.

Should have never left them alone.

And nothing anyone said, nor how much booze he drank, could ever make him forget his greatest sin.

Not protecting his family.

Chapter 1

Ruth sighed and leaned back in her chair as she rubbed her temples. She hated Thursdays, the one day a week she took appointments until eight p.m. to accommodate those who couldn’t make it to a daytime session.

Only one more person to see, and then she could relax with a book and a bowl of leftover corn chowder. She perused the information on her next patient, a new one named Leo. No last name or date of birth, which brought a frown. Not unheard of. Some people preferred complete anonymity and could achieve that if they chose to pay for their sessions by e-transferring funds or using a prepaid credit card.

The intake form displayed little information other than the reason for the visit: Difficulty in dealing with grief after the loss of his wife and child.

That would be a tough one. Often those who survived suffered not just from the anguish of losing their loved ones, but also from the guilt that they’d survived.

A light on her desk blinked, showing her patient had arrived and pressed the buzzer in the waiting room to notify her. To preserve her client’s privacy, she didn’t invest in cameras for her office, although that might change given the recent break-ins in the neighborhood.

She buzzed the door, the audible click as it unlocked her cue to sit poised and ready to greet. In walked a giant of a man, and she didn’t say that lightly.

The breadth of his shoulders almost had him turning sideways to enter. While thick all over, it appeared to be muscle, not fat, the kind built over years of exercise or strenuous work. His file didn’t mention his occupation. Slightly intimidating, but despite his bloodshot eyes, he seemed calm.

Ruth stood and kept her tone firm and professional as she said, “Evening. You must be Leo. I’m Doctor Warmstone.”

His unshaven jaw tensed as he eyed her and then the office. “You’re a woman.”

“Yes, I am. Is that a problem?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” he grumbled.

“If you don’t feel I’ll be the right fit for you, I can refer you to a male colleague.”

He shook his head. “Nah. It’s fine. I was told to come see you, so here I am.”

A curious choice of words. “Someone recommended me?”

“Of sorts.” He rocked on his heels as if uncomfortable. “Feel like I should warn you I’ve never talked to a head shrink before.”

She’d heard the disparaging term too many times to count. “I’m glad you found the courage to try, then.”

“Courage,” he snorted. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Did someone force you to come?” The tactic didn’t always work, as those bullied into therapy could prove reluctant to give it a try. But sometimes someone struggling with mental health need tough love to direct them to therapy so they could move past whatever held them back.

“Boss says I need to get my shit together. My liver could use a break, too,” spoken with a rueful smile.

She made note of the detail suggesting he’d been using alcohol to cope. It explained the strong scent of cologne, most likely used to mask the odor that would linger as it oozed from the pores. “Let’s see what we can do, then. If you’ll take a seat…”

He eyed the club chair in front of her desk and then the leather-clad chaise. Before she could mention he could sit wherever he felt most comfortable, he flopped onto the armless couch, causing it to groan ominously.

He exhaled. “More comfy than it looks. Here’s to hoping I don’t fall asleep on you.”

“Sometimes sleep can be beneficial,” she murmured, rising with her tablet, which she used to take notes.

“Not when you have nightmares each time you close your eyes.”

She angled the club chair to face him before she sat down. “Hopefully our sessions will help with that. Let’s start with the basics. Your name is Leo, and you are how old?”

“Older than you’d think.”

A useless reply and probably an indication of how things would go: Difficult.

She pegged him to be in his late thirties, but he could be fit forties, or even fifties. “What is your occupation?”

“I worked as a cop.”

She noticed the late tense. “It sounds as if you no longer do?” Not unusual for law enforcement officials to change jobs before retirement age, given what they experienced. Dealing with the worst of society on an almost daily basis took a toll.

“I’m still working to serve and protect,” he muttered. “I just don’t have the same motivation as before, which makes me a liability to the guys I’m partnered with.”

She made a notation in her tablet about his concern over job performance. “How long have you been in law enforcement?”

“Long time.”

Vague replies, but not unusual for a first session. She didn’t need an exact date. “Have you thought about changing careers?”

“Can’t.” He uttered a short barking laugh. “This is what I am.”

“It’s never too late. If you’re feeling burned out, sometimes a change of occupation can be beneficial.”

“I like what I do.” A begrudging admission. “I just don’t have the same drive as before.”

“Your intake sheet indicated you suffered a tragedy.”

His expression went blank. “Yeah.”

“Care to tell me about it?”

“Not really.” He huffed out a breath. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

“If you’re not ready to discuss it, then we can save it for our next meeting.”

“Seems kind of dumb to avoid it since it’s the reason I’m here.” He went silent for a moment before saying. “My wife and daughter were killed.”

Killed, so not natural causes. “What happened?” Given he was in her office and not jail, she assumed he hadn’t been the one to end their lives.

Agitation tensed his body and Leo rolled from the couch to pace as the story emerged in short terse sentences. “A killer I was hunting took them.”

“They were targeted because of your investigation.” Stated, not asked.

“Yeah.” He stood still, and his shoulders slumped. “I don’t even know how it found them.”

She noticed the use of “it.” Depersonalizing the one who caused his grief. “That must have been devastating.”

“That’s putting it mildly;” his dry retort. “More like soul-crushing. Especially since it’s my fault.”

“You couldn’t have known your investigation would result in your family being targeted.”

“No, but I should have done more to protect them. I tried to get Kylie to leave until the situation was handled, but she refused. Maybe if I’d not been distracted, I would have found the fucker sooner.”

“Distracted by what?”

He grimaced, and for a second, she thought he wouldn’t reply. The reason emerged in a low tone. “My wife and I weren’t in a great place when she died. Hadn’t been in a while.”

He went quiet, forcing her to prod. “When you say not in a great place, were you fighting?”

“It might have helped if we were. About a month after we got married, Kylie just kind of went cold on me. Distant. Like, I’d come home, and she’d pretend I wasn’t there. Kind of impressive, given our small apartment and the size of me.” He offered a self-deprecating smile.

“Given your comment about never having met with a psychologist, I’m going to assume you didn’t attempt couples therapy.”

“No. Seeing as how we were both unhappy, I asked her if she wanted a divorce. It was the weirdest thing, because the moment I said, it suddenly it was like a switch flipped, and for a little while, she was the Kylie I’d met. I’d come home to romantic dinners. We’d snuggle on the couch, sleep in the same bed. But then she got pregnant, and suddenly, it was like she hated me and wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Hormones can be hard on some women, which isn’t making excuses for her behavior,” Ruth hastened to add.

“I know about the whole hormone thing, which was why I did my best to ignore it. Wasn’t easy. If she wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder, she was insulting me. Acting as if she wanted me gone. When the baby was born, I thought maybe things would get better.”

No need to ask. They obviously didn’t. “How old was your daughter when she was taken from you?”

“Two weeks old,” he whispered. “Just a tiny thing. I could hold her in my palm.” He held out the hand in question and stared at it blankly.

“You loved your daughter.”

“More than anything, and I let her down.”

“There is no predicting the mind of a killer. You had no way of knowing they would come after your family.”

“Logically, I know that, but in here…” He thumped his chest. “A part of me insists I should have done more. I should have ignored Kylie’s refusal to leave and just packed them up and secured them in Tower.”

She frowned. “How would bringing them to an apartment tower have helped if this person was targeting you?”

His lips flattened. “Better security. It would have never found them.”

“It is common after experiencing a tragedy to indulge in would have, could have, should have,” she replied. “In hindsight, there are many actions taken over the course of our lives that we would change, but the sad reality is, the past is the past. When something traumatic occurs, dwelling on it won’t change the outcome.”

“No shit, but how am I supposed to stop?” His harsh rebuttal. “It’s with me every single second of every fucking day.”

“Obviously work hasn’t provided a distraction.”

“Nope.”

“I assume you’ve not tried dating, either.”

He uttered a harsh chuckle. “Who wants to be with a miserable fuck? And before you think I am hung up on Kylie, I’m not. Like I said before, we were on the verge of divorce. Probably would have split and shared custody if not for what happened. My problem now is, I’m just not interested. Not in dating, or even living.”

Before she could ask if he’d been having suicidal thoughts, she heard a thump from overhead. She glanced at the ceiling with a frown.

“Noisy neighbors?” he stated, having noticed her distraction.

“Not likely, since I own the floor above,” she murmured as another thud occurred.

“Sounds like a cat or dog jumped off something.”

“I don’t have pets.” She rose from her seat. “Would you excuse me for a moment while I go see?”

His lips pursed. “Shouldn’t you be calling the cops if you have an intruder?”

“I wouldn’t want to waste their time if it turns out to be nothing. Could be I left something too close to an edge and it fell.” She didn’t believe that for one moment. Ruth hated clutter, and her home reflected it. She owned no knick-knacks, ergo nothing that would have fallen.

“I’ll come with you,” he offered, rising, his height and width dwarfing her. While not a petite woman at five seven and very curvy, beside him she felt practically dainty—and a bit daunted.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Then it will only take a minute and we can go back to me feeling like a piece of shit while you try to convince me I’m not the asshole.”

Internally, she debated the wisdom of taking a patient up to her private residence. On the one hand, she didn’t know him and, as a woman, she knew better than to trust a stranger, especially one that could easily overpower her. On the other, he had the bulk and professional experience that made him more than capable of handling an intruder in her home.

Another thump decided it for her. “If you don’t mind, then yes, it would be reassuring to have someone with me.”

“Lead the way.”

Ruth exited her office and punched in a code on the keypad for the door that led from her waiting room to the vestibule of her home, rather than go outside and through her main entrance.

The entryway showed her front door still deadbolted. The stairs leading upward ended in a tight landing where she felt slightly intimidated by the large man at her back. A quick punch of her code gave them entry to her residence, and she wondered if the intruder heard the beeping as it unlocked.

The moment she entered, Leo brushed past, murmuring, “Stay here while I look around.”

He could move quite stealthily for a man his size, his steps making not even the slightest whisper as he trod from her hall into the living room where the noise originated.

Waiting grated, especially since she could hear nothing. After a minute, she dared to peek her head around the corner and couldn’t restrain a gasp. Her living room had been ransacked, the cabinet doors in her entertainment center wide open, movies and albums dumped on the floor. Her lamps had been knocked from the side table. The television lay shattered on the floor.

Still hearing and seeing nothing, she moved past her living area to the dining room, which appeared untouched. Same for the kitchen.

No intruder, but also no Leo.

He must have gone to check upstairs. She trotted up the steps and immediately saw the open window. A window that led to the fire escape, which explained how the intruder got in. Before she could call out for Leo, a bright flash from outside had her blinking. What was that?

She ran to see, but there was nothing there. Not on the fire escape or in any of her rooms. Whoever had entered her home had disappeared, as had her patient.