Page 238 of Nanny and the Beast

“I wanted to tell you,” I say. “I just didn’t know where to begin.”

“I understand. It’s a sensitive topic,” she says. And then she turns to Clara. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Clara. I can’t imagine how isolating it must have been for you.”

Clara looks at her for a moment before walking away. I don’t ask her where she’s going. I already know.

I turn my attention to Emma and wrap my arm around her waist.

“Thank you,” I say, leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder.

“For what?” She looks up at me.

“For just being you. For having so much love in your heart for everyone.”

She stares at me like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. She doesn’t know that her beautiful heart makes her shine like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.

“It was kind of you to help her, Klaus,” she says, swallowing. “She was a stranger to you, but you still went above and beyond for her.”

“My reasons were selfish,” I say.

“You’re a kind man, Klaus,” she says. “You’re a good man. It must have all been so heavy for you too, but you showed grace and strength.”

I pull her close, holding her against my chest.

“Nothing feels heavy anymore, angel,” I say.

Not since she walked into my life.

52

EMMA

He holds my hand as we walk to the basement.

Klaus warned me that things could get ugly, but I told him I wanted to be there for this. Richard caused a lot of hurt to a lot of people. I want to be there when he takes his last breath.

“The walls are partially soundproof,” he explains as we take the stairs to the basement. “That’s why everything is muffled.”

I nod, glad this won’t disturb the kids.

“So are there anymore secrets I need to know about you or your family?”I ask. “If any more dead people are going to come back to life, I’d rather know about it now.”

“No, this is mostly it,” he says. “But you should also know that Alaric and I are part of a cult.”

“Very funny,” I say.

He purses his lips together.

“You guys are in acult?” I ask. “What sort of cult?”

“It’san international organization called the Resistance. They solve global crime in unconventional ways. I’m not an official member, but I’m one of the associates,” he says.

We reach the bottom of the staircase. I’m still thinking about what he said as we pass through a door flanked by two security guards.

There’s a second door. The moment we cross through it, the screaming is loudenough to pierce my eardrums.

I see a sweaty, blood-soaked man tied to a chair. The two women he wronged circle around him like vultures about to pick on their prey.

There’s a powerful energy in the air.

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