“I know Miller.” Harold folded his hands on top of the desk. “He understands everything.”
Her hands fisted at her sides. Her right hand seemed a little too close to her holster. “Wynter might have been a good hunter once, but he’s obviously turned, because of her. She has that effect on men. The woman seduces, gets men to trust her, then she betrays them.” Her breath rushed out as she stalked toward Antonio. “Your friend is in over his head. Even a demon can’t control her fire.”
His brows rose. “Now that would depend on just how strong the demon is.”
Her eyes couldn’t narrow much more. “We requested Wynter because he’d handled Ignitors before. He killed the last rogue, I—we-thought he could handle her, too.”
The picture suddenly became clearer. “You contracted with Night Watch, and you were hoping the demon would kill your Ignitor, weren’t you? You didn’t want him to apprehend her, you wanted him to execute her.” He stalked closer to her. “Your hands would’ve been clean then, right? You would have done your job and gotten your wish. Jana Carter would be dead.”
Her smug smile was his answer.
Hell. “Zane Wynter doesn’t kill for sport.”
She laughed at that. “He’s a demon. Of course, he does.”
He was aware of old Harold stiffening and the temperature in the room dropped a good ten degrees. But the special agent didn’t seem to notice that change. “You think all demons are evil?” he asked her, just to be sure he understood.
“They’re demons, aren’t they?”
“Uh … you know it’s biological, right? It’s not like they’re the devil’s minions, they’re just—”
“Supposed to be descended from the Fallen. Right. Whatever. They’re not human. I’ve stared into their eyes. Their real eyes, and I know they’re evil. Just as evil as she is.”
Antonio could only shake his head. “You don’t have a lot of faith in people, do you?”
She didn’t answer.
Right.
“What did Jana do to piss you off so much?” “You mean, other than go on a burning and killing spree for her entire life?”
“Yeah, other than that.” He felt Harold’s eyes on him.
“She—”
“I’ve heard enough.” Harold’s bearlike growl filled the room as he shoved to his feet. “Special Agent, you need to go check in with your boss.”
“He’s not—”
“Check in with your senior officer.” His right hand held a fountain pen in its white-knuckled grip. “Maybe he’s got word on your would-be prisoners.”
“Fine.” She jerked her thumb toward Antonio. “What about him?”
“Don’t you worry about Antonio. I’ll handle my man.” “See that you do.” One hard nod, then she whirled on her heel, and stormed for the door. Of course, the woman didn’t open the door and softly shut it behind her. No, she slammed the damn thing hard enough to make the framed commendations on Harold’s wall shake.
“I don’t believe I much like Special Agent Thomas,” Harold said, and Antonio glanced at him just in time to see the chief of police drop the glamour from his eyes.
Demon black eyes stared back at him. Antonio had always carried his suspicions about the chief, but …
“We’re not all f**king monsters. The special agent and those dicks at the FBI with their extermination list-they need to realize that.”
Antonio exhaled. “Am I suspended?”
“Hell, no.” That pen stabbed toward him. “What you are is on your way to New Orleans. I got a report that Wynter was headed that way with the woman.”
“But I don’t have jurisdiction—”
“Screw jurisdiction. I’m not letting Agent Thomas get her hands on Wynter first. He’s a hunter, but he’s also one of mine.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get your ass down there. Find Wynter and find that girl.”
“Carter? What do you—”
“It’s come to my attention that she may know certain … pertinent facts … about a group the FBI has been trying to infiltrate for years. A group that is quite dangerous.” He paused. “To folks like me.”
“Sir?”
“If Jana Carter has got the info I need, I do not, do not, want her winding up in Special Agent Thomas’s hands first. I want her, understand?”
“I think I do.”
“Good, then, son, because if you want that promotion that you been chomping at the bit for, bring ‘em both back. Alive.”
Unfortunately, that last part might not be so easy. Especially since he was a cop who happened to be one-hundred-percent human … stepping into a world that wasn’t.
Good thing he knew exactly where to go for some paranormal backup.
“Why are we going into a hospital?” Zane asked, shaking his head. “We need to get to Perseus before—”
“This is the way to get to Perseus.” Jana stared at the swirling ambulance lights. Our Sisters of Mercy Hospital was booming tonight. She and Zane had gotten into New Orleans earlier, then laid low until the sun dropped.
As soon as the night fell, they’d been ready to hunt, and the hunt, well, it began here.
“There’s a nurse inside. Her name’s Nancy Gilbert.” Low on the Perseus totem pole, but she was still a way to make contact. “She reports to the group on any … unusual patients that check in.” Like a twenty-year-old girl who’d escaped a four-alarm fire without any burns.
Stupid. I’d just stared up at the nurse and said, “I did it.” After so many folks not believing her, she’d sure never expected the nurse with the cold gray eyes to believe her.
Or to pump her full of drugs and have her taken from the hospital.
“We need to get you in there, and we need you to fake an injury.” Her gaze darted over him. “Or maybe we should give you a real one.”
He held up his hands. “Thanks, baby, but I’m fine with a fake injury.” His eyes narrowed. “Will this woman recognize you?”
“No.” The last time she’d seen Nurse Nancy, Jana had been sporting short, streaked blond hair, darkly tanned flesh, and she’d been five years younger.
Now that she’d gone back to her dark hair and her skin hadn’t seen the sunlight in months, she doubted Nancy would recognize her. Nancy had only been with her a few hours that fateful night, anyway.