My mouth dropped open, and I once again felt like a cartoon character whose face was stretched out to impossible proportions. Two minutes ago, she’d wanted me to march into the police station, right past all her fellow boys in blue, and now she was giving Catalina a free pass on that? Anger flooded my heart, replacing my earlier hurt.
“Excuse us, Catalina.” I ground out the words. “I need to speak to my sister, the detective.”
I grabbed Bria’s arm and pulled her away. Xavier stayed behind with Catalina, talking to her in a low, soothing voice. I marched Bria over to the far side of Catalina’s car, out of earshot of the others, then whirled around to face her.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” I hissed. “You’re going to get that girl killed. And for what? Just so you can collar Benson? Even if you arrest him, the chances of him spending any time in jail are slim to none. He has too much money, too much power, and too many connections for that.”
“It’ll be fine,” Bria insisted in a stubborn tone. “Xavier and I can protect Catalina.”
“From Benson? And the dozens of vampires who work for him? I doubt that. The second Benson hears that there’s a witness to Troy’s murder, he will do everything in his power to find and kill Catalina—and anyone else who gets in his way. That includes you.”
Bria crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m a cop, Gin. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, you can, but you’re being awfully cavalier with Catalina’s life. Xavier’s too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t tell you how to kill people, so why don’t you give me the same courtesy and quit telling me how to do my job?”
My whole body stiffened, and I had to work very hard to keep my face blank, as though her verbal knives had slid right off my skin, instead of burying themselves deep in my heart.
Bria winced, and she opened her mouth, almost like she was going to apologize. But then her gaze flicked to Troy’s body, a shadow passed over her face, and her lips mashed down into a hard, flat line. She wasn’t going to back down, so I decided to try another approach.
“Look, Xavier told me about your informant, Max,” I said, trying to rein in my own temper and ignore the hurt I felt.
Her angry gaze shot over to the giant. “He had no right to do that—no right at all.”
“I know you feel responsible for what happened to Max.”
“I am responsible.” Guilt and bitterness roughened her voice. “I’m the one who wanted info on Burn. I’m the one who pushed him to get in deeper with Benson’s crew. Max did exactly what I wanted, and now he’s dead. And I’m the reason why.”
“Bringing down Benson won’t change what happened to Max.”
“No,” Bria agreed, rubbing her thumb over her detective’s badge. “But at least I’ll know that the bastard will never do that to anyone else.”
“Except Catalina, when he finds out about her.”
Bria stiffened, and her hand balled into a fist. Yeah, it was a low blow on my part, but that didn’t make it any less true.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to take my witness’s statement,” she snapped. “I’m also going to call in the scene. Since you’re so worried about being identified, it’s probably better if you’re not around when everyone else shows up.”
Bria pushed past me and went back over to Catalina and Xavier. She gently put her hand on Catalina’s arm, escorted her over to the sedan, drew a notepad and a pen out of the back pocket of her jeans, and started writing down Catalina’s statement. Xavier gave me another troubled look, then went to stand next to Bria. He didn’t like it either, but it was his job to back her up, and he’d do it, just like always.
Catalina started talking. I didn’t hear her words, but I didn’t need to. I’d seen the whole thing for myself. Instead, I watched Bria. The longer Catalina spoke, the more eager my baby sister’s expression became, and a twinkle shone in her eyes, almost as if she was enjoying hearing about a young man’s murder.
But the thing that bothered me the most was Bria’s smile—a cold, cruel, satisfied expression I’d never seen her wear before.
But one that I’d sported all too often as the Spider.
•
Even though Bria had made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t welcome here anymore, I stayed in the garage until she finished taking Catalina’s statement. Bria moved off and started talking on her phone, notifying the rest of the po-po about the murder. Catalina drifted back over to Troy’s body, saying her good-byes, while Xavier walked over to me.
“I’m going to follow Catalina home, then come back and help Bria,” he said. “Bria’s agreed to keep Catalina’s identity under wraps for as long as possible. She’s not going to tell anyone who Catalina is until she absolutely has to. Neither will I.”
“Benson will still find out. You know he will.”
Xavier shrugged. He couldn’t deny it. He reached out, squeezed my arm, then went over and got into the sedan. Catalina bent down over Troy’s body and touched his hand a final time before straightening back up. She wiped a few tears away and came over to where I was leaning against her car.
“Thank you for being here tonight,” she said. “For saving me.”
My heart twisted. I hadn’t saved her so much as I had signed her death warrant. I should have found some way to sneak her out of the garage instead of letting her witness Troy’s murder. Now Benson was going to kill her as soon as he found out that she’d seen what he’d done.
“See you at work tomorrow?” she asked.
“Sure.”
I handed over her keys. Catalina gave me a shaky smile, more tears pooling in her eyes, then slid into her car and cranked the engine. She backed up and followed Xavier in the sedan out of the garage.
Bria was still talking on the phone, pointedly not looking in my direction. Maybe I should have tried to make nice with her, but right now, I was too angry and disgusted to bother.
So I went over to the stairs and plodded down them to the first level, my soft footsteps like a steady heartbeat against the dirty concrete. I stood in the shadows by the entrance, staring out at the street. The lights spaced along the sidewalks continually flickered, the weak, worn-out bulbs humming in warning that they could go dark at any second. The sputtering glows made it seem as though the graffiti runes spray-painted everywhere were moving, like roaches skittering along the street and up and down the building walls. Most of the commuter cars that had been parked here earlier were gone, and I didn’t see anyone schlepping down the sidewalks, not even a couple of hookers trolling for clients.