“H-hurt… you …”
She tensed, but kept her eyes on the road. Can’t go back to my place. Ten-to-one odds said they already knew where she lived.
Can’t go to a hotel. Not like she could check in with the demon handcuffed to her. Explaining that to the desk clerk would be—
“If …h-hurt you…”
Oh, that just didn’t sound good. What the hell was happening to the guy back there? That left hand of his was holding way too tight to her waist.
“B-burn me…”
Hell.
They needed a safe place to crash and they needed it now.
The instant Baton Rouge Police Captain Antonio “Tony” Young saw the flaming remains of the red Corvette, his gut clenched, and he knew hell had come calling.
Antonio jumped out of his car and rushed forward, grabbing one of the uniforms already on the scene. “Where’s the driver?” Because he knew that car.
The young cop spun to look at him, and gulped when he saw Antonio’s face. “D-don’t know, s-sir …”
Those flames were burning so high. Antonio couldn’t see the front seat of the car. The ‘Vette was smashed to hell and back, and all that fire …
“We found ‘em this way. Abandoned rig and the sports car—”
A rig that had smashed right into the driver’s side door. It takes a lot to kill a demon.
He released the cop and yanked out his phone. He punched in Zane’s number. Waited, waited …
Customer not available. The automated message clicked on, and he nearly shattered his phone.
Dammit. Antonio paced away, feeling the heat from the fire singe his skin. If Zane wasn’t answering, there was only one person he could contact.
He called Pak. Nothing happened at Night Watch without that charmer’s approval. Nothing. So it was past three a.m., Pak was probably at home, sleeping, but …
“What do you want, captain?” Pak’s smooth voice asked with no hint of sleep slurring the words.
Antonio cast a fast glance back at the wreckage, hunched his shoulders, and paced around the fire truck. “What kind of case is Zane Wynter working on right now?”
Silence.
Come on! “Pak, don’t screw with me right now. I’ve got a crew of humans out here on Montgomery Lane, and I need to know what we’re stepping into.” Because he knew the real deal about the world. He knew that all the nightmares people had-those nightmares were nothing when compared to reality.
Once upon a time, he’d thought the worst things on the streets were the human killers who sliced and diced their prey. Then he’d met the vampires. They drained their prey, tortured them, made them beg for death, and then wouldn’t let them die.
Humans weren’t the worst predators on the streets. Not even close. If only.
“There’s an Ignitor in town,” Pak finally said.
His gaze darted to the flaming vehicles. “No shit.” He exhaled. “Have you talked to Wynter in the last thirty minutes?”
“No.”
“Then we may have a problem.” May? Who was he kidding? “I’m staring at Zane’s car right now, and the flames burning it are bright enough to light the whole damn block.”
The cabin looked deserted. Jana shoved down the kickstand and steadied the bike. It looked deserted. Hopefully, it actually was. She’d scouted out this area before, just in case she needed a place to crash.
And I do. I really, really do.
The wooden cabin was buried in the swamp. A long, ramshackle pier ran from the side of the cabin and skated out over that murky, green water.
“Okay, demon, we’ve got to move.” She tried to roll her shoulders, but his weight was too heavy. “Zane? Come on, Zane, move!”
She felt him flinch. Then he eased back and slid off the motorcycle. She followed him, her thighs still trembling a bit. It had been far too long since she’d gone for a wild ride on a cycle.
“The motorcycle should be safe behind these bushes,” she said. “We can go inside”-it looked like no one had been there in months, a very good thing—“and then figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.”
He just stared down at her. Dawn had finally come, lighting up the darkness, and she could see a faint rim of green around the outer edge of his irises, but the black coloring—that demon black—was darkening. The lines on his face were tight and hard.
Jana licked her lips. “Zane?” She tugged her cuffed hand. The metal bit into her wrist.
Alone with a drugged demon. Hello, dream date.
As she stared up at him, the green in his eyes disappeared, and only the black was left. Just that deep, soulless black.
B-burn me …
She turned away from him. Not like she could get away from him, though, not with that freaking fireproof, Other-proof metal chaining them together. But when she started moving, he did, too. That was something, right?
It’s okay. He’s one of the good guys. He worked for Night Watch. He brought down the paranormals who hurt humans. He hunted them, he brought them in, or he took them out.
One of the good guys. Right, that’s what she had to remember. She risked a fast glance back at him. It was just that he didn’t look particularly good right then.
He looked like he wanted to eat her.
Jana grabbed the doorknob. Twisted. Locked, of course. Because who would leave a cabin unlocked for any squatter-like me-to come by and enter? Oh, well. She lifted her foot and kicked the door.
That hurt.
Swearing, she limped back. Zane’s left arm wrapped around her and pulled her to the side.
Okay, he felt warm, and she sure needed some warmth right then. After a charge, all of the heat left her body too fast. And it was cold out there in the swamp. The cold cut of air knifed right to the bone.
Not saying a word, Zane lifted his foot and kicked the door. The lock snapped, the door flew open, and—
And he pushed her inside.
Darkness. Dust. That musty, closed-in smell that a place got after being sealed up for too long.
She exhaled and tried not let her nose twitch. “I need to take a look at your wounds.” Not that it would do much good. The drugs would be in his system now. “I need—”
“You.” Guttural. That rough word was the only warning she had. His hands caught her arms and he spun her around, pressing her back against the wooden wall of the cabin. He crowded her in and locked his hard, hot body against hers.
The demon was aroused. His c**k pushed against the front of his jeans. No mistaking that thick swell. Especially not when his lower body was crushed to hers.