Eternal Flame (Night Watch #3)(67)
Author: Cynthia Eden

He jumped off the porch and rushed to her side. “We’ve got a big damn problem.” He pushed her inside and slammed the door. His eyes searched the night. Can’t see anyone. Can’t hear anyone.

But Marcus hadn’t gotten much warning, either.

He hurried back to the driver’s side. He’d have to call Pak and Tony. A cleanup crew was needed ASAP. They had to get the body out of there before dawn, before any neighbors could see what had happened. And Night Watch had to figure out-fucking fast-what they were dealing with here.

Perseus? Was the group still active? How? The agents were locked up, courtesy of Chief Daniels. Their leader was dead.

“Zane…”

He spun out of the drive.

“Zane, tell me what’s happening.”

He didn’t want to. This world was full of things he didn’t want to do. “Marcus isn’t our killer.”

She exhaled. “Well, I’ve been telling you—”

“He’s dead.” He yanked out his phone and called Pak even as his eyes snapped to the rearview mirror. No one followed them. Not yet.

“Wh-what?”

“His body was on my porch. The poor bastard’s throat had been ripped out.” Someone had just killed a wolf shifter like it was f**king nothing. Wolf shifters were hard bastards to kill.

No time for defensive wounds. No time to attack. There’d been no blood under Marcus’s nails. No torn clothing. Just like the other scene.

Who the hell had killed the guy and why?

The only links he had to Marcus were Jana and … Perseus.

Chapter 15

The morgue was cold and quiet, just like the f**king grave that it was. Antonio shifted his right foot and wondered how in the hell the ADA could just stand there peering at the gaping wound that had been the vic’s throat. And Erin was close. Right down at the throat, staring with narrowed eyes. The scent alone should have been enough to choke her but—

“These aren’t wolf claw marks. They’re close, but they’re … off. Just a little different.”

Antonio’s brows snapped up. “Ah, you sure?”

Her gaze met his. “I know wolf claw marks when I see them.”

“So do I,” Jude added, his voice rumbling. “And I know a shifter’s scent when I smell it-there’s not a drop of shifter odor on her.” He shook his head. “The girl wasn’t killed by a wolf.”

Then what had attacked her?

Jude’s phone rang. He hurriedly pulled it out of his pocket and turned away from them. “Donovan.” Silence.

“What the f**k? Are you serious?” Jude threw a glance back at them. “Yeah, well, we’d already figured it wasn’t him.”

Antonio knew the call wasn’t bringing good news.

“We’re still at the morgue. No, man, I don’t know what the hell got ahold of her. The marks are like a wolf shifter’s but … no, Erin and I both say they don’t match.” A brief pause. “Yeah, the scent’s wrong.” His eyes narrowed as he listened and paced. “Where are you? Do I need to come—”

He broke off. Erin edged closer to Jude. Her hand lifted to rub against his back. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll wait for you,” he said into the phone. “Hurry in.”

Jude ended the call and huffed out a hard breath. His gaze met Antonio’s. “I’ve got one guy you can mark off your suspect list.”

His gut twisted.

“Marcus Malone didn’t kill that girl.” “You sure?”

“Zane is.” A long sigh. “Because the bastard who murdered the co-ed killed Marcus. Zane just found the wolf shifter’s body. Malone’s throat was clawed open. The poor bastard bled out on Zane’s porch.”

Well, damn. Just like Lindsey Meadows. Antonio’s gaze lingered on her pale form. Someone was hunting in his city. Not being quiet about it either. Fast, brutal kills.

“They’re linked.” Obviously. He just didn’t know how. A wolf shifter … a college kid … why? What had made those two into targets?

The door to the morgue opened with a squeak. His head turned, and his hand went to his holster. Too much damn stress lately. But at this time of night, no one else should be there—

And he sure as shit shouldn’t be seeing Catalina.

But the witch stood in the doorway. Her eyes, wide and green, met his. Her white-blond hair tumbled down her shoulders, and her lips, normally dark red, but now light pink, were pressed into a tight line.

“Catalina?” Jude called, his voice gruff. “What are you doing here?”

“They’re hunting me,” she whispered as she came slowly into the room, her feet shuffling over the floor. “I could feel the darkness coming. I-I scryed. I had to see what was going to happen.”

Scryed. A cold wind seemed to blow against Antonio’s neck. He didn’t like it when Catalina pulled out her dark mirror and tried to glimpse the future. As far as he was concerned, peering into that mirror was just asking for trouble.

And the last time she’d gone looking to see what the future held, she’d seen death for her friends.

Luckily, she’d been wrong about that vision. Well, kind of wrong.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Jude admonished. “You’re already weak from the two binding marks. Your powers aren’t strong enough—”

“No.” She shook her head. “They’re not. They’re not strong enough for me to see who is coming after me, but they were strong enough to show that if I don’t do something, I’ll be burning.”

Shit. What was the surefire way to destroy a witch? The fire. The old bastards during the Burning Times had been right about that move. Bind a witch, burn her, and you get her powers.

Catalina straightened her shoulders. “Someone is coming after the survivors.”

Oh, he wasn’t going to like where this was going. Antonio hurried to Catalina’s side. The skin under her eyes looked bruised. Hell, she looked bruised. Too pale. Too fragile. He almost reached for her, but he stopped and clenched his hands into fists. “Where’s the vamp?” The last thing he needed was that vampire popping up in the morgue.

“He’s …” She swallowed. “Feeding.”

Right.

Jude growled.

Catalina’s eyes flashed. “He’s not killing anyone! He’s just drinking—”

“The way the bastard drank from Jana?” Yeah, he’d gotten all the details from Zane.