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  It was time to have another, more specific, chat with the genial mercenary. She turned to tell Jack, but he beat her to speech.

  “It occurs to me that he might not have been the only one who got away.” He slid his hands in his pockets, still frowning.

  “You think Gregor was involved?” While the vampire had gotten away with murder—literally—for years, Selina was inclined to agree with Delta. He didn’t fit the profile. This wasn’t his kind of kill.

  “No, I don’t mean Gregor.” He shook his head. “I mean you.”

  “I don’t follow you.” At all. What was he talking about?

  “What, you think it’s a coincidence that my stepfather was attacked? Or that your cousin was murdered?” He lifted his eyebrows. “He knows we’re tracking him. He knows who we are.”

  She waved her hand. “It had occurred to me. I mean, it could have been coincidence with my cousin, but Darren, too? No, you’re right.”

  “So, what if you were the fifth murder in New Orleans? The one who didn’t happen? What if you’re the reason there were only four deaths there?” He waited for her to respond, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “You said yourself you’re as much a potential victim as anyone else because you married a Normal.”

  That possibility had never occurred to her. It probably should have. “I ...”

  The car came into view, and Selina pushed the button to pop the locks. They crawled inside and Jack continued with his theory while she pulled out of the parking garage. “It seems a little too easy that he would appear in a city that has a Magickal detective in it he’d studied up on. Delta said he researches his victims until he feels he knows them. So he thinks he knows you. It wouldn’t take an idiot to figure you’d probably end up on this case, since you worked it before, or that you’d want a piece of him. He killed your cousin, and I think he might be back in Seattle to finish what he started thirty years ago. I think you’re the one who got away for him, too.”

  Not for long. Shit. She had to tell him. Dread gathered in a pool in her belly, curdling until she feared she might actually vomit. Again. Maybe this was for the best. He might hate her, but it was better than caring for her and having her die on him. Cut ties now, give them both the opportunity to walk away from this thing they had while there was still a chance. The reasoning just made her feel ... empty.

  She stared straight ahead, unable to look at him while she did it. “Jack, I need to tell you something else. This isn’t the right time for it, but there really isn’t a right time.”

  “What?”

  Just do it. Just say it. “Whether I’m the one who got away or not, he’s still going to kill me.”

  There was a long, very pregnant pause. His voice was deadly soft. “What did you say?”

  A chill skittered down her spine, and she swallowed hard, her heart hammering in sickening thumps. “Merek had a prophecy a year ago that I would die on the job. Now. I figured it would just be a bust gone wrong. It happens. I didn’t figure it would be my worst nightmare dragging me back into hell. But it is. So this is it. My last case. Because I’m going to die.”

  “Merek brought you back into this case, knowing it would kill you?” His hands clenched on the strap of his seat belt, strangling the fabric. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she drove. “You had to know I would have heard about a string of murders in town and I would have asked around about it. Law enforcement has more gossip than a bunch of high school cheerleaders.”

  If anything, his voice got even quieter. “And you didn’t tell me about this until now ... why?”

  “I figured it was no one’s business but mine.” She winced, knowing how well he’d take that considering how he’d reacted to her keeping the Bess information from him.

  “I thought we were past piling on the bullshit, Selina.” He turned his head to look at her.

  She shook her head, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I never lied to you, Jack.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. He slapped his hand against the dashboard. “You never told me the truth either! You’ve been keeping shit from me this entire investigation.”

  “None of it changed anything about how the case would go. It was all my personal shit.” Her palms were slick with clammy sweat on the steering wheel as she wended her way through the deserted Seattle streets. His anger was a palpable force in the car, and she couldn’t even blame him. She braced herself, knowing this beautiful thing they’d had was going to end. One more thing she had to let go of. Ice stole through her veins, leaving her cold and exhausted.

  “Our relationship was personal, too, Selina. We’re not just working together.”

  “I know. I should have broken things off a long time ago.” She would never forgive herself for letting it go so long that he got hurt. She’d go into the afterlife kicking her own ass for this. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she blinked, refusing to let them fall. This was her own fault. She didn’t deserve to cry about it. “I should never have let it go past that first night.”

  His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut so hard she heard his teeth clack together. “That’s what you have to say to me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Her limbs trembled, and she was grateful when she pulled to a stop at the curb in front of his parents’ place. A half-dozen cars were out front, blue lights still flashing, caution tape cordoning off the house, officers and agents swarming the place looking for evidence. She forced herself to twist in her seat and face Jack. “Now you see why I said this wasn’t a good time for me to get involved with anyone.”

  Even under the weak light of the streetlamp and the strobelike flashing from the police cars, she could see his face was flushed with anger. “Yeah, but you neglected to mention it was because you’re planning to die. You had no right to keep your personal shit from me when it even remotely touched the case I’m working on. You should have told me about Bess and you should have told me about you.”

  She threw up her hands. “If I’d told you everything, you’d have yanked me off the case.”

  “You’re damn right I would!”

  He still could. Officially anyway. “Try it, and I’ll still work the case. You can’t keep me from it, and there’s nothing you can threaten me with that will stop me. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  “Yeah, because in your mind, you’re already dead. Of course you have nothing to lose! Jesus Christ, Selina.” He shoved a hand through his hair, gripping the strands tight.

  “Try to keep in mind that I didn’t have to tell you this. There was no file from New Orleans that would have clued you in.” Her voice shook, tremors running through her body. “It was my choice to trust you with it.”

  “Trust.” He laughed, and it almost sounded like a sob.

  “I wanted to give you a chance to accept it, like I have. I wanted to give you the chance to say good-bye. I didn’t want to just die on you.” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep from flying apart. It was better if he walked away now. It was better if he hated her. She hated herself for having put them in this situation.

  “Jesus Christ.” He swiped at his eyes and blew out a breath. “I can’t believe this is happening again.”

  Gods, this was so much worse than she’d ever imagined. “I’m not Heather. I’m not killing myself.”

  “You’re not exactly fighting to hold on either.” The leather upholstery squeaked when he turned toward to her.

  She huffed out a breath. “How old was she?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Yeah, I’m four hundred and forty-one, Jack. No one’s going to say ‘she died so young—it’s such a tragedy.’ I’ve had a long, long life. I’ve done a lot of things, known a lot of people, and loved my share of them. Hated a few, too. You name it, I’ve probably done it, or thought about it and decided against it. I’ve had the time to consider everything you can possibly imagine.” The gods knew she�
�d thought about Merek’s prophecy for the last year and had some time to come to grips with it. “I’ve traveled the world, had about fourteen different careers on three different continents. I’ve done extreme shit, I’ve slept with a lot of men, I’ve been married and been widowed. What more could I ask for in life? Nothing. I couldn’t ask for more than what I’ve had, and I think I’ve made the most of the time I’ve gotten.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she could see veins throbbing at his temple. “I don’t want you to die. I just ... holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening again.”

  “I’m not her, Jack. I’m not.” She wanted to reach for him, but she had no right. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering, she was so damn cold. “I’m not planning to kill myself. This is more ... terminal disease than suicide. The end is coming. It’s not by my hand, but it is inevitable. Try to accept that. I have.”

  “No.” He shoved his face into hers, his blue eyes blazing pure fire. “No. I won’t accept it. I’ll never accept it. So don’t ask it of me.”

  She drew in a shuddery breath. “Okay, I won’t. That doesn’t change anything.”

  “Fine,” he snapped, throwing himself back in his seat. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Go home, Selina. Peyton and I can handle this scene without you. I’m not taking you off the case, but I don’t want to see you right now. Get the hell out of my sight.”

  Hauling himself out of the car, he slammed the door behind him. He didn’t look back as he walked away. She made herself put the vehicle in gear and press her foot on the gas pedal. Something inside shattered, and she felt as frozen as she had when Bess died. There really was nothing left for her now. Just the case. Just catching this murderer. It was better this way.

  Maybe if she said it enough, she’d believe it.

  14

  Another woman who wanted to die. How could he have found two of them? The irony of it made Jack snort, and hot moisture stung his eyes. He strode up the walkway to his parents’ front door, away from Selina and the pain that ate him up inside.

  He slammed his way into the house. The door closed behind him so hard, it set the doorbell gongs off, and he couldn’t help but hear it as the death knell on their relationship.

  How morbidly fitting.

  Peyton turned when he entered, his gaze going from Jack to the door and back again. “Everything okay?”

  “Not one thing, actually.” His stepfather, Selina, a killer still at large. It was too much to handle at once. Jack felt like his head was going to explode. He clamped down on the emotions battering at him. Every time he thought about Selina, he wanted to put his fist through something. His hands actually shook with the need, and he clenched his fingers to stop from giving in to the urge. How could she so casually walk into her own death? He’d put his life on the line before, so he understood that came with the profession, but what Selina was doing? It was a suicide mission for her, whether she chose to acknowledge it or not. It was one thing to know the killer was gunning for her—Jack had pointed out as much to her—it was something else to calmly acquiesce to it.

  It all circled back to this killer. This Normal who pretended to be a vampire. He wanted to rip the bastard’s head off. If he did that, maybe Selina wouldn’t be his last victim. Jack’s heart stilled. He forced himself to think logically. She’d said this was a vision Merek had had, but Jack had seen Merek’s visions change depending on the decisions people made. It was possible to alter them. How much, Jack didn’t know, but he knew he had to try. Selina might readily accept her death, but he refused to. If there was a way to stop this, he wanted to find it.

  He had to track down their killer before the killer tracked down Selina. She might be involved in the hunt—there was no way he could stop her, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try—but that didn’t mean he was going to stand aside and watch her die.

  “Laramie.” Peyton’s hand closed over his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. “If you need to go home or be with your family now, I can handle this.”

  Right, like sitting alone with nothing but his own thoughts to drive him crazy was going to help anything. Jack shook his head. “No, I’m here. Let’s do this.”

  His parents’ home was in shambles. Everything that could be smashed or broken had been. He’d bet his annual salary that nothing had been stolen. It had just been destroyed. Systematically. There were holes in the walls, windows shattered, smashed furniture, broken dishes, slashed mattresses. Everything that had made this house a home was gone.

  A shudder of revulsion went through him as he walked from room to room. Splashed across the debris was his stepfather’s blood, and the heavy stench of it made his insides twist.

  “This one was different.” He coughed and looked up at the ceiling so he didn’t have to view the wreckage for a second. “He never touched anything but the victims at the other crime scenes.”

  “Of course, this is different.” Tess stepped out of his parents’ bedroom, sealing something into a plastic bag. “This is personal.”

  Peyton slipped his hands in his pockets, but his gaze kept going back to Jack. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think the wolf was worried about him. “He’s sending you—us—a message. He can get to us, and none of us are safe. If we keep pursuing him, it’s our loved ones who will die.” He sighed. “Or it’s us who will die.”

  Jack’s teeth ground together as he fought lashing out at the other man. It was the last thing he wanted to hear. Peyton was right, he knew that. Logically. But this was madness. He wanted to hunt this fucker down and rip him apart limb by limb. “You’re damn right, it’s personal.”

  “I know.”

  Jack’s fists balled and unballed at his sides. “You’re not going to argue with me, tell me not to let him get to me, because that’s what he wants?”

  “No. You already know all that. In the end, it doesn’t mean shit.” Peyton’s eyes sparked with feral light. “It’s personal, and we’re still going to nail this asshole.”

  “Thanks, man.” He clapped a hand on the wolf’s shoulder.

  “We protect our own,” Peyton said simply. “And, in a way, his extra effort to send us a message is what saved your stepfather. One of your neighbors saw the broken windows and called the cops. The killer had to flee before he could finish the job.”

  “Thank God for nosy neighbors.” Tess managed a small smile. She and Peyton still looked a little pale from the full moon the night before, but they’d survived and they were here. Jack was grateful for that. Tess tilted her head. “There is something that you should see, though.”

  Jack snorted. “There’s something better than this?”

  “Better is such a relative term,” she retorted drily. “Cavalli called Peyton to let him know about the Normal thing, and that’s when the shield spell issue came to us.”

  “How would a Normal get through a security spell?” Of course. They’d assumed the man was a Magickal. They’d had their doubts that a vampire would be able to cast a spell powerful enough to punch through one, but they had assumed the darkness of the man had made up for any lack of casting abilities that vampires might have. That assumption just got blown out of the water. “I don’t buy that every single Magickal he’s attacked has happened to leave their shields down that night. With Mathison, it was unlikely, and I’ve never once known Darren to forget. How would this Normal even be able to tell if they were up or not? I know I can’t sense it. Not really, and I know what I’m looking for.”

  Peyton nodded. “Exactly the questions we started asking after we got off the phone.”

  “Come look at this.” Tess gestured them both forward and led the way over to one of the windows. “This is where we think he got in.”

  They picked their way through the rubble and looked at what she pointed to. It was a piece of brass nailed to the window frame. Jack frowned at it. It looked something like a mezuzah that Jewish people affixed to their door frames. These went on every exterior door and window
in the house, creating a magical network that blocked entry from anyone with evil or harmful intentions. “It looks like the bespelled objects I had Mathison install at my house. For security.”

  Peyton’s gesture was impatient. “Yeah, look closer.”

  Squatting down, Jack brought himself to eye level with the thing. There were dark smudges on it, as if the metal had been tarnished. Some of the brass appeared to be melted. He’d never seen anything like it, not for a bespelled object. “What could do this?”

  There was a long silence, and Jack glanced up to see Tess and Peyton exchanging a significant glance. From the way she gestured, Jack figured the two wolves were speaking telepathically.

  “Anyone want to clue me in?”

  It was in one of Tess’s textbooks, or I wouldn’t even have thought of it. Peyton’s voice filled Jack’s head. I helped her study when she was in training to go from Normal medical examination to Magickal. We think the guy has a cursed object.

  Jack snorted. “Those are just myths. The Elven Assembly banned them something like a hundred years ago, collected all of them up and destroyed them. My understanding is they even destroyed the texts on how to make them.”

  Do you have a better idea? Tess arched her eyebrows. Because this looks a lot like what my book said that cursed objects could do. Suck magic out of people and things. It explains how he can overpower werewolves. It explains how a human could leave the mark of dark magic on his victims.

  The truth was, Jack couldn’t think of a better explanation for what they were dealing with. No matter what angle he looked at, the answer was preposterous. Even if this human had a fanged accomplice, vampires couldn’t cast well enough to break through a solid spell shield. And would another kind of Magickal be steeped in vampire lore and rituals for their killings? He had his doubts. What Tess and Peyton had come up with made the most sense to him, too.