Page 4 of Faith Among Monsters

“Yeah,” I say finally, my voice tight. “If there’s no reasoning with you.”

“There’s not,” she says, her chin tilting up. Her tone is steady, but there’s a flicker in her eyes, just for a second, that makes me pause.

“I’m here to do a job,” she adds, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

I shake my head. Stubborn. Determined. The kind of woman who’s going to get herself killed.

“I hope you’ll help me with that as well,” she says, her voice softer now.

I meet her gaze, and for a second, I see something I don’t expect. Not pity. Not fear. Just quiet strength.

And that’s when I know I’m fucked.

“I’ll see you stay alive,” I say, the words coming out like a promise. A vow. To her, to myself, to whoever the hell sent her here to die.

Because if they want her dead, they’re going to have to get through me first.

“Is there anything I need to know before we go inside?” she asks.

Her voice is calm, measured, but there’s something underneath it. I hear it, see it in the way her gaze lingers on me like she’s searching for cracks. She already knows this place is corrupt.

I want to haul her over my shoulder, march her back to the dock, and throw her on the ferry myself. If she’s on our side, Sinclair will have a target on her too. Hell, the guards will be as much of a danger to her as the inmates.

“Sinclair isn’t a man to fuck with,” I say. My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but it’s the truth.

If she’s shocked, she doesn’t show it. Her expression stays steady, her gaze sharp enough to cut. “What makes you say that?”

I laugh, short and bitter. She’s using her bestyou can trust metone, like I’m some kid she’s trying to coax into admitting his parents hit him. It’s too soft, too sweet, toogoodfor this place. For me.

“The ferry only comes once a month,” I say, locking my gaze on hers. “By the time you realize how stupid this is, you’ll still have to survive another thirty days.”

Her shoulders stiffen, and she turns fully toward me. The fire in her eyes burns hot enough to make me want to take a step back.Goddamn, this woman.

“Will you tell me what’s going on here?” she asks, her voice firm now, cutting through the salty breeze. “What’s really going on?”

“You ask the wrong person that,” I say, my tone dropping lower. “You’ll find out.”

I mean it. This place has a way of chewing people up and spitting out what’s left, and she’s just walked straight into its jaws.

The ferry engine sputters to life behind us, a low rumble that drowns out the crash of the waves for a moment. I glance over my shoulder, jaw grinding. She still has time. A second, maybe two, to make the right call.

“Doctor,” I say, softer this time. “Please.”

Her gaze flicks to the boat, hesitation flashing in her eyes like a warning light. Just for a second. Then she squares her shoulders and looks back at me. “Mr. Stryker, Dax.”

Fuck.The way my name sounds on her lips hits me harder than I expect, like she’s testing it out, trying to figure me out. I exhale through my nose, trying to rein in the frustration twisting in my chest.

“Do I need to carry you?” I ask, deadpan.

She smirks,smirks, and shakes her head. “I’m not leaving,” she says, her voice firm. Then she brushes past me, heading for the steps.

That ass sways like a goddamn invitation, and before I can stop myself, I inhale. Her scent hits me again, soft, clean, warm. Something faintly sweet, like sugar dusted over fresh skin. She smells like dessert.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Chapter Three

Faith

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