“I’ll wait with you.”
There was no point in arguing, even if she’d wanted to.
Duncan wasn’t going to let her out of his sight until he’d handed her over to Fane.
Which might have been insulting if she hadn’t accepted that her pride had to take a backseat until the necromancer was found. In her mind she might be a kick-ass Xena warrior, but in reality... yeah, not so much.
Leaving the apartment, Callie felt a strange chill brush over her skin. Almost as if she’d been touched by death.
She shivered, hastily looking down the narrow hallway that ended at a heavy fire door. There wasn’t much to see. A few plastic plants in dire need of dusting and a shallow alcove that led to the second apartment.
So why did she feel as if there was something lurking just out of sight?
“What is it?” Duncan demanded, his hand on his gun.
She gave a last glance down the hall before giving a shake of her head. Obviously the nightmare had affected her even more than she’d realized.
She was jumping at shadows.
She shook her head. “Nothing”
Duncan nodded, continuing to lead her out of the building, but his hand remained on his gun.
She wasn’t the only jumpy one.
They stepped into the parking lot, briefly blinded by the late afternoon sunlight.
Callie blinked, scanning the lot for a sign of the heavy vehicle that Fane always preferred.
A Hummer, a truck, an armored tank.
When there was nothing beyond the expected minivans and midsize clunkers, she glanced at Duncan in surprise.
“Not here?” he demanded.
“No. Strange.” She pulled her phone out, discovering she’d missed Fane’s text. “Oh. He had to wait for the monks to arrange a car. He should be here any minute.”
“Good.” Without warning Duncan wrapped his arms around her and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “We have time for a little PDA.”
“PDA?” She tilted back her head with a lift of her brows. “Dare I ask?”
“Public Display of Affection,” he murmured, his sexy smile suddenly freezing as he glanced over her shoulders. “That guy looks familiar and not in a good way,” he said, in full cop mode as he shoved a key into her hand. “Here. Go back to the apartment and lock the door. I’ll call when Fane gets here.”
She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the barrel-chested man with dark hair slicked from his bluntly carved face. He was half hidden behind a Dumpster, peeking around the edge in a way that had been guaranteed to catch the attention of a wary cop.
Callie didn’t like it.
It screamed TRAP.
“But—”
“Please, Callie,” Duncan muttered, his voice tense.
Knowing her companion wasn’t going to back down until he was certain there was no danger to her, Callie heaved a resigned sigh.
“Fine.” She sent him a warning glare. “But if you let yourself get hurt, I’m not going to be happy.”
His answer was a gentle push toward the door and Callie heaved a resigned sigh as she reentered the building and headed the short distance to Duncan’s apartment.
Halting in front of the door, she fumbled trying to fit the key into the lock. She was consumed with the knowledge that Duncan might very well be walking into danger.
He was a good cop. A great cop. But his obsessive determination to protect her made him vulnerable.
She didn’t doubt for a second he would put himself in danger if he thought it was necessary.
Barely capable of concentrating on the simple task of unlocking the door, Callie was oblivious to the shadow that slipped through the doorway at the far end of the hall.
She had no warning that the trap she’d suspected was about to snap shut.
Not until a crippling pain exploded in the back of her head and the world went dark.
Waiting until Callie disappeared into the building, Duncan walked with a commanding purpose across the parking lot, his hand deliberately on his gun. If the lurker was a run-of-the-mill drug dealer he’d take off. They always did when confronted by an authority figure. Duncan could call it in and get back to Callie.
If it wasn’t... well, he’d dealt with scumbags before.
And the man hiding behind the Dumpster had all the earmarks of being a class A scumbag.
Halting with his back to a nearby car so no one could sneak up on him, he studied the blunt features that tugged at a distant memory.
This man had crossed his path before. Not uncommon. Duncan spent a lot of time on the streets, dealing with a lot of different people. It was rare that he didn’t see someone he’d encountered before. Either a criminal or a victim or just an eyewitness.
“What’s your name?” he demanded, not bothering to flash his badge. No need to make it official.
Yet.
“Tony,” the man muttered, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.
Nerves? Guilt? Something worse? Only one way to find out.
“You have a reason for lurking in my parking lot, Tony?”
Tony licked thick lips, glancing toward the apartment building. “I wasn’t lurking. I was—”
“Yeah?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Me?” He frowned. “Why?”
“You’re a cop, right?”
“I am.”
“I have information for you.”
Duncan remained wary. In his experience confidential informants didn’t hide in parking lots waiting for a cop to appear.
And how the hell had he known where he lived?
Duncan covertly tightened his grip on his gun. “What kind of information?”
“I heard you’re looking for a necro.”
Duncan sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you know that?”
The man once again glanced toward the apartment building. As if looking for something.
Or someone.
“Word gets around.”
No. Word didn’t get around. Not to low-level criminals.
Cold spikes of suspicion pierced his heart.
This wasn’t right.
“Okay.” He angled his body so he could keep watch on the apartment building as he began to back away, his inner alarms screeching a belated warning. “Meet me at the police station in half an hour and we’ll talk.”
“No.” With an unexpected lunge, Tony grabbed Duncan’s arm. “Wait.”
Duncan pulled his gun, pointing it between the bastard’s eyes. “Let go of me.”
Tony’s dark eyes widened with fear, but he tenaciously held on. “I have to tell you now.”