Sebastian Hawk has one obsession in life, find the man who murdered his wife. When the killer targets an innocent woman and children, Hawk's obsession consumes him.

Sebastian Hawk is a senior detective with the International Prevention of Crime, and a man tormented by the murder of his wife. He faces an opponent who will go to any length to get what he wants, a man whose brutal methods will revive the wounds still festering deep inside Hawk.

When Dr Kim Lee – a scientist recently credited with developing a formula to end aging – and his wife is murdered, it falls to Hawk to protect both the Lee’s children and Mickey Delinsky, their terrified guardian. But the killer is still out there and he’s coming for Mickey, because he believes she has what he wants.

Can Hawk keep Mickey and the children safe? And where is the formula if it’s not in Mickey’s possession?

There’s only one way to flush out this killer and that’s to use the woman he’s beginning to care about as bait.

Clinically dead.

Weren’t they the words the doctor had used? Take her off the machine, Hawk, he’d advised, there’s nothing more we can do for her.

No way would I take my daughter off support. Instead, I’d taken her out of that death hospital and placed her in a private hospital, Sundale Sanatorium to be exact, and here she would stay until the day she opened her lovely blue eyes and said my name.

It was costing me every spare cent I had but I’d hock my soul for my kid.

Over the past four years, the scars on her face and arms had lightened, not as red, not as brutal. Her hair had grown long and silky blonde. The nurses massaged her limbs every day, yet they appeared wasted—weak and spindly as if they’d snap under the slightest pressure.

I placed my cheek against hers, willing her to open her eyes.

“It’s daddy, baby.” For a brief moment I waited for her response, imagining her sweet voice calling out to me. I straightened.

“I got you something.” I held out a tiny pink fluffy elephant, Isla’s favorite animal. “Please, baby, take it.” The only response was the hiss of the mechanical ventilation machine as it forced oxygen into my child’s lungs.

Powerless, I watched her struggle to survive while thoughts of the bastard who had put her here swirled through my brain like fire. I vowed to put him where he belonged.

In fucking hell.

I slumped on to the chair beside her bed and took her pale hand in mine, it was surprisingly warm. With my free hand, I picked up the storybook I was reading to her, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. It was the book her mother had given her on her third birthday. I smiled as I remembered how Isla knew the story almost by heart. I read for awhile, tossed the book aside and began telling her what I’d been doing, how, last night I’d burnt the spaghetti sauce and had to send out for pizza, how the washing machine ate up my socks, and how her daddy caught the bad guys.

What a joke. I couldn’t catch the bastard who had put her in this hospital bed. My guts burned.

I stood and shrugged into my overcoat, shoving my hands deep inside the pockets. “Daddy’ll see you soon, baby.”

I hated leaving her alone and so damn vulnerable. It broke what was left of my heart.

When it had first happened, unable to stand the torture of losing my family, I’d wanted to top myself. Everything I loved and cherished had been taken from me. The only thing that stopped me was Isla and the hope that one day she would come out of the coma. When she did, she’d need her dad. I had to go on, keep sane. It wasn’t easy.

Shoulders hunched, I made my way down the corridor. The sweet smell of disinfectant disturbed my nostrils. I’d always hated hospitals, the place where you lost your identity and control of your life.

I hastened my step. I had a plane to catch. Chu, my partner was waiting for me now at Tullamarine Airport, tickets clutched in his hot little hand. A huge business deal was to take place, millions, if not billions, of dollars implicated. There would be trouble, big trouble, and as an Australian citizen was involved, we’d been called in to assist the Hong Kong Police.

My heart jerked inside my chest and a sickly queasiness swamped my belly. I knew Druj would show up, it was too far alluring for him to ignore. He was an arrogant bastard and he had good reason to be arrogant. He was always one step ahead of me, taunting me, laughing at me. He knew what was going on, the where’s and why’s of it all, like he was psychic, or, a more logical explanation, he knew someone on the inside, a police informant that gave out information for cold cash.

Rain bucketed down, stinging my face, thunder rumbled, and in the far distance a flash of silver lightning streaked the air. The day was cold and bleak like the hate I carried for him. All-powerful, all-consuming, it stayed with me morning till night.

Two things kept me going; my daughter coming alive again and me spitting on his grave.

I drove the car out of the hospital grounds, my hands gripping the steering wheel like they were wrapped around the bastard’s throat, and then flinched as a pain shot through a molar. Christ, I was grinding my teeth. I forced myself to relax.

He wasn’t human, he was a stinking shithouse rat and all I needed was the right amount of rat poison.

This time I’d get him. This time.