Sleepers: Shifters Confidential Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  If there was one thing that Dex knew it was that everything online stayed there forever. If they had existed, he would find them, one way or another.

  Even if it takes me the rest of my eternal life.

  He didn’t have a specific day but he started his search six weeks back and worked his way up, starting with the cameras he could find closest to the storage unit. To his disbelieving delight, the storage facility itself had an online security system for nervous unit holders to watch their own property.

  His breath caught in his throat when he caught glimpse of Sabine’s Audi pull up, five weeks earlier. Seeing her alive and moving on camera sent shivers through his heart even though he knew the footage was dated.

  She parked and jumped from the car, furtively looking about before pulling the dark hood of her hoodie over her black hair.

  She’s definitely up to something, but what?

  Whatever it was had gotten her in grave danger.

  He watched nothingness for over an hour, not daring to fast forward lest he miss some crucial detail, but in the end, Sabine only returned to her car and drove off into the night. Dex exhaled. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until that moment.

  Fast forwarding now, he found Sabine again the next day where she repeated the pattern of staying in her unit for an hour and returning.

  On the third day, however, something changed.

  A few moments after Sabine arrived, another vehicle pulled up beside hers. Dex felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as he watched the passenger door open and a man exit. In fact, Dex could not be sure if it was, in fact, a man. The build was right, but his posture was angled away from the camera like he knew it was there. He moved steadfastly toward the storage building, his gait confident, and the black BMW pulled out of the shot.

  Dex backed up the recording, jotting down the license plate, even though he was missing the first number.

  It won’t be hard to find it based on the make and model of the car.

  His heart thudding, he pressed play on the footage and leaned in to watch, already knowing what he was about to see.

  This was it. This was the night it had happened.

  Ire and fear bubbled in his gut when the man reappeared, his head covered by a massive area rug. He stopped at Sabine’s car and popped the trunk, stuffing the carpet inside, but not before Dex saw a pale hand fall out from the folds.

  That bastard! He put Sabine in there! Sabine and whatever paperwork she had in the unit.

  He was finding it difficult to breathe but Dex wasted no time trying to zoom in on the face of the man. It was useless. He was a professional, trained to do whatever it was he was doing.

  How did he incapacitate her?

  There had been so much blood, but she was a witch, able to regenerate. Unless…

  Dex freeze-framed the image and stared hard at the face, distorted as it was.

  Was he a demon? Was that how he got her?

  The realization sent shockwaves through his body. If he was a demon and he had bitten her, Sabine would surely be dead by now.

  But she’s not. She’s not dead. I can feel her, smell her.

  He didn’t let himself think about the possibility, his trembling fingers working like bolts of lightning to find a match on the license plate. As he waited for a match result, he refocused his security camera search for Sabine’s Audi that night.

  He found it, traveling southwest out of Bremen before abruptly going north on route 212. Shortly after that, he caught images of the Audi returning to Bremen, heading back toward Sabine’s townhouse where he had found the car.

  The kidnapper had assaulted her and was holding her somewhere out of Bremen, but where? What was along Route 212? Had Sabine been there the entire time?

  Where did he take her?

  The computer chimed and Dex switched screens, his eyes widening in amazement when he saw that he’d finally found a match to the license plate on the BMW.

  Nikolai Bremner of Berlin.

  Dex was still for a long moment as he stared at the name.

  Nikolai Bremner. I wonder if he’s any relation to Klaus.

  8

  Frau Schiller heard about the break-in and as always, was very verbal about what she thought Sabine should do about it. She wasted no time marching into Sabine’s apartment just after dawn to give her an earful.

  “Why haven’t you called the polizei?” she demanded. “This could be related to your attack!”

  “I’m sure it’s not,” Sabine replied but she could hear how unconvincing her voice sounded. She was certain that the two events were related too but that wasn’t something she was going to announce to the world. In a small way, she was grateful for the direct violation on her property. A closer inspection had proven her theory correct, that nothing had been taken but someone had been looking for something.

  It’s been five weeks. Why come after me now?

  Her mind raced around in circles. Had her attacker only found her now and if so, why had he come to her apartment and not taken her directly?

  Did this have something to do with Klaus and the fact that she rejected him?

  She found herself doubting her every decision, particularly when Frau Schiller stared at her with such a furious expression.

  “I don’t know what kind of life you led before I found you, Sabine, but you have a baby to think about now. What would you do if someone came in here and threatened the life of your child?”

  The question filled Sabine with a spike of fury, her hands protectively falling over her stomach at the mention.

  “Nothing will happen to my baby.” She barely recognized her own voice as she turned her head away. She didn’t want to unleash her anger on Frau Schiller, but the woman had said the wrong thing, particularly when she had yet to decide what to do with the child growing inside her.

  As if reading her mind, Frau Schiller spoke again.

  “Don’t forget about your appointment this afternoon after your shift.”

  Sabine cast her a wry smile.

  “How could I forget when you constantly remind me?” she chirped with a lightness she wasn’t feeling.

  Frau Schiller sighed and turned to leave Sabine alone in her apartment but not without a final glance around. Sabine had done her best to tidy up, but there were still remnants of the chaos she had walked into the previous night. The landlord had fixed the broken door already, but Sabine hadn’t slept a wink, blood rushing through her as she half-expected a return.

  She’d sat on her worn futon, a dull butcher knife on the coffee table as she tried to read a book. The tiredness she’d experienced earlier in the day was long forgotten.

  “Sabine, don’t be stubborn,” Frau Schiller added as she moved out of the unit. “Everyone needs help sometimes.”

  I need too much help, Sabine thought grimly, nodding curtly. I’ve needed nothing but help since I got here and enough is enough.

  The break-in had inspired a newfound strength in her also, one that had been buried deep inside her, but it was slowly rearing its head and Sabine intended to embrace it, even if she didn’t fully understand it.

  “I have to get to work, Frau Schiller,” she reminded the older woman gently. Maria grunted and spun away, muttering something under her breath. Sabine could guess what it was.

  “Danke, Frau Schiller!” she called out as an afterthought, but her meddling neighbor was already gone, and Sabine was finally able to quickly dress into her work uniform.

  She wasn’t looking forward to her shift that day. A part of her was worried that Klaus might reappear. She didn’t know what she would say to him if he did. She was also moderately concerned about Hans and how peculiar he had been acting the previous day. She knew that Maria Schiller would certainly be on the phone with him, regaling him with what had happened at her apartment, and Sabine wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with his questions.

  So many questions. More and more every day.

  She stared a
t herself in the mirror a final time, barely recognizing herself when she did. There was a fire in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a determination oozing from her face that was almost palpable.

  Maybe I’m finally coming to terms with who I am, she thought hopefully. But who the hell is that?

  Hans wasn’t at the café that morning, but Elena was and as Sabine had expected, the owner’s niece had heard all about her experience.

  “Are you all right?” Elena demanded. “You should take a day off and deal with the police.”

  Sabine stifled a groan and shook her head vehemently.

  “There’s nothing to deal with,” she insisted. “I could use the distraction.”

  Elena eventually had no choice but to allow Sabine to clock in and start her shift, but the dark-haired server was painfully aware of how everyone seemed to watch her as she worked.

  Maybe it’s time to move on from Hude, she thought. The notion was absurd. She had nowhere to go and no money with which to go. She had been lucky that the people of Hude were accepting her as she was without identification or any history. She was trapped in Hude until something of her memory gave her a lead on where she was supposed to be.

  And she had a baby to think about.

  It wasn’t something she was apt to forget and suddenly, Sabine was looking forward to the appointment with the doctor. She knew that she had no choice but to give the child up. At the rate things were going, she would never recall who she was in time to secure a proper life for the baby, not when someone was after her.

  To make matters more complicated, Police Inspector Weber appeared during the mid-morning lull and Sabine had no doubt that Frau Schiller had been the one to call her.

  “Guten Morgen, Sabine,” the cop said. She was the same woman who had interviewed Sabine after the attack. “Do you remember me?”

  “Ja, of course,” Sabine replied, smiling briefly. “Coffee?”

  “I’m not here for coffee,” Natalia Weber told her. “I’m here to discuss what took place at your home last night.”

  Sabine ground her teeth together, a spark of annoyance shooting through her. She knew that Frau Schiller meant well but the older woman was only making her life more difficult with her interference.

  “It was nothing,” Sabine told her quickly. “And it’s too late to do anything about it now. I’ve contaminated the crime scene.”

  Weber seemed as surprised by the words as Sabine was to say them.

  “You know something about law enforcement techniques.” It wasn’t a question but a pointed observation. Sabine forced a tight smile.

  “I probably watched a lot of forensic shows once,” she offered. Weber studied her face with renewed interest.

  “Have you regained any of your memories yet?” she asked. Instantly, the image of the black-eyed man floated through her head.

  “Nein,” she sighed, darting her eyes toward the counter where she pretended to wipe. “Nothing.”

  “I’m told there is a good neurologist in Bremen,” Weber offered. “I’ll look into getting you an appointment.”

  Not another doctor, Sabine thought miserably but she decided against arguing. There was a decided note of suspicion in Weber’s expression and Sabine intrinsically knew not to further arouse her skepticism.

  “I really don’t have the money for something like that,” she mumbled. Weber’s eyebrows were almost at her blonde hairline as she tossed her head back and eyed Sabine.

  “Why would you need to pay for it?” she asked slowly. “Are you not German?”

  Sabine stared blankly at the woman, her head filling with confusion.

  “What?” she asked dumbly. “Of course I am.”

  Aren’t I?

  “Germany has socialized health care,” Weber said pointedly. “You would only need to pay if you weren’t a German national.”

  Sabine laughed shortly.

  “We don’t know what I am without any identification, do we?” she sighed. “And without identification, I would need to pay for such a service.”

  “But if you are a German national, you would be covered under the system,” Weber argued. “And a neurologist could help you determine that.”

  Was she trying to talk Sabine in circles, or did she genuinely want to help?

  Suddenly, Sabine wasn’t sure of anything.

  “I’ll look into the neurologist,” Sabine agreed, realizing that it was the only way to get Weber off her back.

  Why are the people of Hude so pushy?

  “And I would still like to get into your apartment with a crime scene technician,” Weber continued.

  “I already told you that it’s pointless,” Sabine argued. “I cleaned up and put everything away.”

  “Still, if there is someone breaking into people’s homes, I’d like to find him. It’s a public safety concern.”

  Oh, she’s good, Sabine thought, almost smiling.

  “Fine, Inspector. You are welcome to have at it,” Sabine relented.

  “Unless there’s some other reason you don’t want me in there.”

  The statement hung like stale cigarette smoke between them.

  “W-why wouldn’t I?” Sabine sputtered. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Good. Then I’ll send my techs there now.”

  Sabine shrugged.

  “I’ll get my keys.”

  She retreated toward the back office where she’d left her purse, her pulse quickening slightly.

  A voice shot through her head in English.

  “Avoid local police. Stay off their radar. If you find yourself in a situation where you are under scrutiny for any reason, don’t argue and don’t give them any cause to suspect you aren’t who you say you are. If you’ve done everything right, you have no cause for alarm. If you haven’t, well, we all made a big mistake recruiting you, haven’t we?”

  It was a woman’s voice, eerily familiar and one that sent spikes of apprehension through Sabine’s body.

  Anatoli.

  The name shot through her as quickly as the voice had and caused Sabine to freeze in place, her hand hovering over her purse. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to capture a physical description of the woman in her head, but there was nothing.

  “Sabine?”

  Her eyes flew open and she stared at Elena.

  “Ja?”

  “The policewoman is waiting for you,” Elena told her warily. “She sent me to check on you.”

  Sabine hadn’t realized she’d been gone that long but a quick look at the clock told her that she’d been lost in her daydream for over five minutes.

  “I’m fine,” Sabine mumbled, snatching her keys out and spinning to leave the office.

  Why do I need to avoid law enforcement? Am I a criminal? Is that why I know about crime scenes?

  She gulped down her nervousness, praying that the piece of mental advice she’d received from some recess of her mind was accurate, but what other choice did she have now but to give in to Weber’s demands?

  “Sorry I took so long,” she apologized to the police inspector when she reappeared. “I thought I was remembering something.”

  Weber eyed her skeptically.

  “Really? Like what?”

  Sabine gave her a sheepish smile.

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “It was gone before I could capture it. Maybe you’re right about a neurologist. I should see someone if the memories are trying to resurface.”

  Weber scoffed slightly but didn’t comment as she reached for Sabine’s keys.

  “I’ll return these when we’re done,” the officer said.

  “I’m finished at three o’clock and then I have an appointment.”

  Weber’s brow rose again.

  “What kind of appointment?”

  Sabine smiled tightly.

  “It’s a private matter,” she said firmly. They locked gazes for a long moment.

  “Fine,” Weber relented. “What should I do with your keys?”
/>
  “You can drop them with Frau Schiller,” Sabine replied. “I assume you know where she lives?”

  The question was meant to be loaded and Weber had the decency to look abashed.

  “I do,” she mumbled.

  At least now I know for certain that Frau Schiller was the one who called her. I really do need to have a word with that woman about boundaries.

  “I should get back to work,” Sabine said pointedly.

  “Ja.”

  Weber moved toward the door and Sabine retreated to her tables, but she could feel the police officer’s eyes on her as she worked.

  I wonder if she’ll find anything worthwhile at the apartment, Sabine thought, forcing herself to smile at the customers. Or will what she finds implicate me in something I have no idea about?

  Sabine realized that no matter what was found, it could only lead her in the direction she wanted—toward the truth.

  “Hm.”

  The soft grunt did nothing to alleviate Sabine’s discomfort.

  “Is that a good ‘hm’ or a bad ‘hm’?” she asked lightly.

  Dr. Schwartz released her head and swiveled his face around to meet her eyes with an odd expression.

  “There isn’t even a scar,” he replied. “Considering how badly you were injured, I would have expected some trace of it.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Sabine asked.

  “Ja, of course,” he replied but she didn’t miss the uncertain note of his words. “It’s just… strange.”

  “I must have good genes,” Sabine quipped. She was less concerned about her head than the baby in her womb and said so.

  “The child’s heart rate is normal,” Dr. Schwartz assured her. “The ultrasound shows nothing abnormal but I would like to take some blood samples to be certain.”

  Sabine chewed on the insides of her cheeks, building up the courage to voice her next question as he prepared the syringes to draw the blood.

  “Who would I see about adoption?” she blurted out.

  Dr. Schwartz paused and eyed her in dismay.

  “Oh…” he said, dropping the needles to meet her face squarely. “You are thinking about giving the baby up for adoption.”