Hours. Hours had passed since blood had been found steadily drying on the open front door of Boyd's home, and they'd got nothing to show for it. Fuck all, or sweet Fanny Adams as Grace might have said. Officers had been scouring the streets for the so-called genealogist they now knew was Adam Callaghan and banging on doors, but nobody had seen a damn thing. Both Boyd's neighbors had been out while the irritating old woman who lived across the street had apparently taken that single day off from twitching the curtains. That damn woman hadn't hesitated a second to give Boyd an unsolicited piece of her mind when Sapphira had first moved in. People didn't just evanesce; if heading the Cold Case Unit had taught him anything, it was that. The missing were always somewhere.

Stella had wisely chosen to search through all of CCHQ's security footage, where she'd eventually stumbled across Adam getting into a silver vehicle and leaving right before Spence had departed with Sapphira – that didn't mean much; Adam had been in the room when Boyd had told Grace where they were going. Still, it had given them a license plate to trace. While Stella had focused on that, Boyd had paced back and forth through the bullpen, looking withdrawn while agitation weighed him down, a stone around his neck. Obviously he'd been desperately thinking of a plan while Grace had finished her assessment of Adam without much luck; Stella's license plate discovery was their best pointer.

"How about we go through it all again?" Grace suggested as she slipped her glasses on and gave the transparent board a curious glance. Boyd stopped mid-pace with his arms folded across his chest, a stern expression on his face. "It might help us to work out where he'd take her."

"Wherever the fuck he's been living all this time, clearly!"

"True." Grace admitted with a calming tone. "But we might be able to narrow down the area at least."

"Fine. Whatever. Get on with it."

Grace looked at her friend a moment; he'd told her he cared for Sapphira, but there and then she wondered if it was actually something a little more than basic caring. Anxiety threatened to consume Boyd if he wasn't careful.

"Okay." Her hands clapped together. "Not all children who are abused go on to become abusers. However, those who do usually have developed a learnt behavior; they come to understand that violence is an acceptable way to get what they want. Adam falls into that category; he was taught from a young age to be aggressive, especially toward women, and, while not physically abused like his sisters, he's been emotionally and mentally conditioned all his life." Boyd remained silent, just stood there waiting for a useful point to leave her lips. "Now, it's not a switch that gets flicked; these people don't go from innocent child to horrific monster in the blink of an eye – he's not Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde. That's probably why Sapphira has some good memories of Adam when they were little. In his mind, violence is the logical response to ensure things go the way he envisions. His mother isolated him, so he's become an outcast unable to build meaningful connections, which further isolates him and adds to his anger. Objects of sexual attraction have rebuffed him constantly, judging by the actions reported by Jade Mooney and Sapphira."

"Grace, how is any of this shit helping us? It doesn't tell us where Sapphie is, just that her brother's a goddamn nutter."

"This shit," she sighed. "Tells us that he sees Sapphira as a sexual object more than a sister or even a person. He's not going to kill her any time soon because he wants to dominate her, wants to be in control of the one who got away, and therefore soothe his bruised ego."

"Oh great! He'll just beat her half to death, then rape her. Nah, call off the fucking search; the situation isn't that drastic after all."

"Boyd!" Grace snapped. "Calm down. I know you have feelings for Sapphira and that you're scared, but you don't get to take it out on me. I'm trying to help."

The gray-haired man dropped into Stella's chair with his head in his hands and his eyes screwed shut. His home was meant to be where she'd have been safe. His job was to protect her, yet she'd been snatched off his doorstep, snatched so close to sanctuary. Boyd didn't cry; he was the sort of man who bottled it up until the emotions burst out of him, normally in the form of a broken plate. Although there wasn't any bottling them in that moment, tiny tears forced their way free of his eyes.

"I – I'm sorry, Grace. I know you're trying to help. I'm sorry." Silently, Grace rounded the desks to rub comfortingly at his suit-clad shoulder. "I promised I'd protect her."

"Everything will be okay, Boyd. We'll find her. You couldn't have seen this coming; you're not clairvoyant, and it isn't your fault."

He nodded and wiped away tears on the back of his hand. The pity party wouldn't get another minute of his time or energy. Boyd indulged in a calming few breaths as he combed his hands through his gray hair to get it out of his eyes, then looked up to Grace.

"All right. What else do you know about Adam Callaghan?"

Grace flashed him a comforting smile; this was the Boyd she knew, a man who, despite his many faults and flaws, always fought for justice.

"He'll need to feel safe and, above all, powerful, so he'll go to what he views as his territory. Even though he's under his mother's thumb, he believes she protects him because she's the only person to be properly trusted. Home, he'll go home rather than trying to hide in a warehouse or something like that. Adam is focused on Sapphira and forcing her to submit to him, so he'll have forgotten about trying to cover his tracks."

"You mean he won't bother hiding evidence, ditching his car, or avoiding cameras?"

"That's exactly what I mean. Adam is a hammer while his mother is a scalpel. She is the one who has managed to keep them hidden so long. Look at the incident with the Mooney girls. Adam didn't hide his actions in the slightest; just acted in full view of numerous people and ran back to Amanda when it didn't work. The same with Donovan and Mary; the stabbing was chaotic and messy while the disposal and subsequent burning of the house was methodical. They're like brains and brawn. I'd go so far as to say that, if you separate them, they'll be easy to apprehend."

"Fucking Norman Bates." Boyd muttered under his breath then fell back in Stella's chair. "That's all well and good, Grace, but it doesn't help us locate them."

"I can help with that." Announced Stella in that lovely accent of hers as she entered the bullpen with a notepad in her hands. "I've tracked the plate, and the car is owned by a man called Dhruv Bulsara."

"Another fake name is just what we need."

"No," Stella shook her head. "He's an actual person. I spoke to him, and he says that his car has been in the shop since last week; they've been waiting for a part to come in from Canada, apparently. I was going to head over to Autonova and see how Adam Callaghan ended up with Mister Bulsara's vehicle."

Boyd shot up from his chair like his mini breakdown hadn't ever happened. "I'm coming with you. Grace, compile a list or something of how to deal with Adam if he decides to use his sisters as hostages."

Worryingly, they could all see that happening very easily, so being prepared was for the best.

With the way Boyd had driven and flashed his lights, getting to the auto shop hadn't taken long. He'd pulled up outside, uncaring of who he blocked in, and loomed into the building like some kind of omnipotent vampire from ancient times; the unrelenting look on his face quickly had the place's manager awkwardly trying to curl in on himself. Dhruv Bulsara hadn't lied; his vehicle had indeed been there for over a week, meaning Adam Callaghan could have only snatched it from that location. What had surprised Boyd was how none of the staff had noticed its absence until an army of police led by a very pissed-off Peter Boyd had descended upon them.

"Right, so Darth Vader could have wandered in and taken it without you morons noticing?"

"Whoa, hold on. There ain't no need for that."

Boyd cared little for the manager's outrage, just shoved the photograph Eve had managed to enhance in his face.

"Adam Callaghan, have you seen him? He's been here, we know that, or the damn car would still be here. Now, I understand he's a little less distinctive than Darth Vader, but if you could rack your tiny brain, that would be wonderful."

The manager frowned but that sort of attack bounced off Boyd like a pebble off a tank.

"Look, I don't know who Adam whatever is." He jabbed the picture. "That's Aaron Jacobson, he works here, has done for years now."

"Hang on," began Stella from over Boyd's shoulder. "He works here? How long for?"

"I'd say going on six years." The portly man shrugged. "To be honest with you, I've been thinking of firing him for a while. He's always so rude to female clients and he just took off earlier this afternoon without a word to me or me other lads."

A growl soon had the manager rummaging through paperwork for the address of the man calling himself Aaron Jacobson. This would lead them to Sapphira, Boyd was certain of it. Grace knew what she was talking about, and if she thought he'd scurry back to his burrow, then Boyd was inclined to believe her. They'd quickly noticed Aaron and Jacob were biblical names again which added validity to the entire situation. Police were closing in around the Callaghans and Boyd would make Adam rue the day he'd been born.

~X~

Sapphira spat out blood while Elizabeth stroked a comforting hand through her hair. Everything hurt to the point she couldn't bring herself to try sitting up – not that the chain would have let her get all that. She supposed she should have counted herself lucky Adam and been called downstairs before he could get to what he'd wanted to do for the last decade. Why he'd fixated on Sapphira instead of her one or all of her sisters hadn't been clear. His deplorable belief Asian women were ugly explained why Elizabeth had only ever been beaten, but whatever made Sapphira apparently prettier than the others remained unknown. In an odd way she was pleased he'd focused on her instead of them, her little sisters never would have been strong enough to fight Adam off.

What had truly stung was how eager Rachel had been to help Adam carry out his beating. That girl had been disturbingly turbulent right from the moment she'd come into their lives, and had always trailed after Adam like he was her master, but Sapphira hadn't for one second thought she'd ever see such hate and cruelty in her little sister's face.

Jupiter's waters of grief threatened to swallow her up, but she couldn't give in yet. Boyd would come; Sapphira's faith in him kept her believing that.

"You're okay, Sapphie. Just rest."

"...We need to get out of the chains."

"And go where? I wouldn't be surprised if Rachel is camped out by the stairs hoping we try to escape."

Bloodshot eyes managed to find her older sister's bruised face. "Why is Mother calling her Ruth? And who's Naomi?"

Elizabeth sighed deeply. "That started right after we left the old house. Mother changed all our names. I'm meant to be Hannah. I don't know what she changed Adam's to because she only uses it outside the house, but she goes by Miriam. Rachel is Ruth and Abigail is Naomi. I don't know if it's to actually keep us hidden or just another way to hurt us." Unfortunately, the sisters knew the answer was more than likely both. "Your detective, does he know we didn't die in the fire?"

"He's pretty convinced. He's the only one who ever believed me. Mrs. Bridgeman couldn't have cared less. I tried to make them listen, I didn't just abandon you all."

"Shush." Elizabeth sympathized while her fingers continued to stroke softly through Sapphira's raven hair. "You did what you could and that's all we could ask for. Don't blame yourself." How her big sister could be so forgiving and kind after all the years of pain, Sapphira didn't know, but she'd be eternally grateful for it. "The detective listened. You say he'll come, so I believe you."

The Callaghan daughters had put their faith in people before who'd done absolutely nothing to rescue them from the pit of despair their mother had concocted. Although Boyd was different; Sapphira knew he'd search for her, but searching and finding were two very different things.

~X~

An address! The Cold Case Unit had an actual address for Aaron Jacobson or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself. All the hopping between identities had finally come to an end and the police were closing in. Dhruv Bulsara's car had been left outside the house without a care in the world just like Grace had anticipated, so they all knew they were in the right place. Boyd had ordered the street quietly closed off to limit the civilian involvement as best he could since he had no clue how Adam would react to being cornered. Grace knew it would be with violence, but the rest of the team severely doubted he'd have gotten his hands on a gun or anything similar. There'd be no dramatic firefight the media could splash on every screen in the country, but that didn't for one second mean things would be easy. Boyd didn't care, he'd get Sapphira and the other girls out of that house if it was the last thing he did. Boyd had stared down men with guns pointed at his head, he'd tricked serial killers into confessing, he'd dodged every disciplinary the Met had thrown at him, and he'd damn well level that unsuspicious house if it meant forcing Adam and Amanda Callaghan to answer for their crimes. Anger scrabbled around inside him as it was one to do, clawed and demanded to be released. Fists clenched leaving painful crescents in his palms. Linda Cummings had told him she always recognized a killer and saw one in him; Boyd couldn't let that be true. No, he couldn't let himself become an animal like those he caught and brought to justice. For the first time in years Boyd whispered Prospero's words to himself. 'We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.' They hadn't worked then as a calming mechanism for his cynical mind and they didn't work now either. He tried breathing deeply and reminding himself that armed response units would soon be there, that Sapphira would soon be safe again.

Things had grown as equally tense inside the house. The second Amanda had glanced outside wondering why everything had suddenly gone so quiet had caused a mix of dread and anger to bubble up. The Devil's armies were at her door to tear down everything she'd built. This was all Sapphira's fault; that manipulative whore only ever brought misfortune.

She rushed into the kitchen and cornered her son. "Adam! The police are outside."

"What?" He shook his head incredulously. "Nah, they've got no idea where we are. Everything is fine, Mother."

"This is the police!" A deep voice rumbled through the building from a megaphone outside. "Amanda and Adam Callaghan, exit the house slowly via the front door with your hands in the air!"

Adam's face turned pale before anger and hatred took over. For nine years nobody had even possessed an inkling they'd not died in that fire; not police, not Social Services, no one, but now they'd been surrounded and Adam didn't understand how such a thing was possible. Had Sapphira alerted them? No, that was laughable, she'd been out the second he'd smashed her head into that door and hadn't possessed a cellphone. He was certain nobody had seen him take her, and even if they had the police wouldn't have known where he'd taken her.

Amanda glared at Adam which had him want to buckle, but he refused and snatched up a knife from the wooden block that housed it. "We've got hostages. If they're here to get the sluts we can use that to get away."

"Get away? Did Jesus run away? No, he stood tall knowing God was with him." She hissed. "We have demons at or door here to stop our divine work. We will not surrender so easily."

Though he'd never admit to it aloud, Adam wasn't so sure all of this could be treated like a holy war. As long as he got to treat women like the lesser creatures they were, Adam was perfectly content. Of course, in his mind, that wasn't as tragically predictable as it actually was, he'd been raised to believe he was better than those around him and that women were little more than Jezebels.

Climbing them two at a time, Adam launched up the stairs with his mother behind him. Rachel had been sat in a chair at the top folding laundry until the police had started barking orders and practically jumped out of her seat when he'd screamed at her to let Abigail out of the cellar and haul her into Elizabeth's room. Demands for them to exit the house kept coming, but Adam surged forward like the wild animal he was while Amanda tried to think her way out of the situation. Police weren't some overworked disinterested social worker, they'd not be so easily led. God knew her work was righteous, he'd not let her fall to demons.

Adam burst into the tiny back bedroom with such tremendous force that the door struck the wall and bounced off leaving a deep dint behind. Elizabeth instinctively shifted to hide underneath the small bed again but Sapphira stayed rooted to the spot. Boyd had actually come for her. She'd got zero idea how he'd tracked them down but she'd thank any deity who'd listen that he had. Things passed in a blur around Sapphira, Adam screamed things while Amanda paced, but Sapphira focused on Boyd and the probable army of police he'd brought with him; the megaphone voice wasn't one she recognized after all.

Everything was loud, numerous people shouting inside and out. Rachel had shoved a teenager Sapphira had soon realized was Abigail into the room, and forced her to sit beside Elizabeth. That was when it became clear a line had been firmly drawn between the family. Amanda, Adam and Rachel on one side while Elizabeth, Sapphira and Abigail were on the other.

"Adam and Amanda Callaghan, exit the building via the front door with your hands raised!" The police insisted again which only made tensions creep ever higher.

"All right," hissed Adam as he grabbed the collar around Sapphira's neck to unlock it. "You're the reason all of this is happening. Let's see what they're willing to do to get their precious bitch back."

"Don't blaspheme!"

Blaspheming truly was the least of their problems; police were hardly two minutes from kicking the door in to drag them out, and the abusive duo weren't the strongest any longer. Adam might have blamed everything on his little sister, but everyone there quietly knew he'd doomed himself. His hotheadedness and total lack of forethought had led the police to them; Amanda hadn't had time to try cleaning it up.

The second her collar slipped away, Sapphira struck out at her brother but Rachel grabbed hold of her arm to keep her still. There had always been something off about Rachel, but Sapphira hadn't ever expected her to end up quite so filled with rage and hate – so evil.

"Everything always has to be about you!"

Sapphira didn't get chance to don a confused expression, let alone respond, because Adam swiftly yanked her to her feet and began to shove her bruised body down the hall, stairs and to the front door all while muttering vitriol. It was there at the white front door that something sharp pressed to her throat; Sapphira would have gulped, but that would have only drawn blood.

"Don't think I won't slit your throat, slut. You wouldn't be the first I've killed and your corpse will still be pretty enough to fuck." He nodded to the front door as his free arm snared her waist like a python preparing to devour her whole. "Now, I'm gonna open up that door and you'll do exactly what I tell you. Understood?" Sapphira nodded. "Look at that, sis, you can follow basic instructions. Turn the key, unlock the door, and pull it open enough for us to see out."

Slowly she obeyed, kept her movements calm as best she could knowing there were surely police with guns outside, and Adam had just quietly confessed to killing Donovan and Mary. Sure enough, the entire street was crawling with armed police and vehicles flashing blue lights. Green eyes fluttered around as more orders came over the megaphone until she found that one drop of hope amidst an otherwise despondent ocean. Boyd. Boyd dressed in black and indigo marching toward the open doorway with that powerful presence of his, and dark eyes locked on his target.

"Don't get any closer!" Adam snarled which Boyd slow his steps and hold his hands out to prove he didn't have a gun.

"Hello, Adam. It is Adam, right, not Conrad or Aaron?"

"I said: don't get any closer! Stay were you are." He nodded to Sapphira as best he could considering he was using her as a shield to avoid being shot. "You're here for her, yeah? I get it, she's always been a little tease."

"Come on, Adam, I think you know this is about a little bit more than just Sapphie. Why don't you put the knife down so we can talk about it?"

Adam breathed out a laugh which had Sapphira's black hair flutter. "Sapphie, huh. Haven't heard that one in a while. You've got a real hard-on for her, ain't you? What the whore do, flash her eyes, show you her tits and that was it, you got all pussy-whipped."

Boyd's eyes turned hard like a caged tigers. "Don't talk about her like that."

"Oh yeah, she's got you good. You can't have her though."

"Just put the knife down, Adam."

His instinct was to just launch at Adam and beat the ever loving shit out of him with reckless abandon, but Boyd had been in enough hostage situations to know that wouldn't translate from theory to reality very well. Sapphira had come out of her shell so much, she'd been healthy and happy, she'd begun dealing with her trauma. Then, in one afternoon, Adam had ripped it all away from her like the narcissistic little asshole he was. Dark bruises littered her beautiful face, one eye was bloodshot and the very bones of her clearly ached, but those green eyes remained on him hopefully. Grace had told Boyd that Sapphira trusted him implicitly and he'd not waste it. All Boyd needed to do was either convince Adam to put the knife down or somehow get snipers enough of an opening to shoot the fucker.

"Nah, you don't get to make the fucking rules here."

"Then tell me what you want." Keeping the anger out of his voice was no easy task. "We weren't properly introduced back at my office. I'm Detective Superintendent Boyd, I'm in charge here. Let's work together, okay?" Boyd rested a hand on his chest. "I just want everybody to be safe. What do you want?"

Adam's blue eyes flicked around to all the police moving around on the street and just how many guns Boyd had brought.

"I want you to all pack up and fuck off."

"We can't do that, Adam. It's-"

"You're going to do it! You're not having my sisters either. Those bitches belong to me and it's my job to keep them in their place!" The blade nicked Sapphira's neck causing a tiny trickle of blood to dribble downward. "You bastards need to fuck off."

"Anime drop?"

Two sets of eyes – one chocolaty brown, the other icy blue – shifted to Sapphira as confusion descended over the two of them. Adam might have snapped at her to be quiet, but a memory sparked inside the older man's mind. All those weeks ago when he'd come home to her watching that silly anime of hers – their conversation afterward.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Boyd backed up a step with a nod. "Yes."

That implicit trust she had in Boyd showed itself for all the world to see then, because Sapphira didn't hesitate for a single second. She yanked her head away from the kitchen knife as best she could, then simply turned to a dead weight. Adam's grasp around her waist hadn't been prepared for it so she slipped out of his hold to the concrete floor as two small bangs echoed around the street scaring pigeons away from their nests. He went tumbling backward into the house where he landed on his back while Boyd scooped Sapphira up and hurried her away. Being shot wasn't like a knife through butter; the bullet rotated to rip through a person's flesh into the muscle and bone behind, sometimes the bullet would break off and fling shards of metal around a body like a game of pinball. Boyd couldn't have cared less about Adam Callaghan's suffering, he was much too focused on getting Sapphira over to the waiting ambulance while armed police made to storm the house.

"You're okay now, Sapphie. Everything is all okay."

She squeezed his had as EMTs pushed Boyd away so they could treat her.

"Upstairs." The word came out in a wince. "Back bedroom. Elle's chained up."

The only comfort he could offer her was a promise to get her sisters out safely, then she was carted off to a hospital for treatment. Boyd paused, took a breath, resettled that trademark scowl across his face, then went right back to work. They'd gotten Adam, that just left Amanda.