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Her thumb jerked toward her hulking shadow. “Keep Donovan up here. I don’t want him anywhere near my crime scene.”
Her sensitive ears picked up the hunter’s swift inhalation and the nearly soundless... “You’ll need me on this one, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.She slanted him a scathing glance. “Doubt it, hunter. Doubt it.” Then she stalked down the tiled hallway, headed for lockup, and wondered just what sort of sight waited for her.
You don’t want to see the body.
* * *
The lady had one fine ass. Even as anger tightened his body, Jude couldn’t help but admire that beautiful sway.
His nostrils were full of her scent. Woman, roses, and just a hint of rich, wild forest. Yes, that wildness—that fragrance had slipped into the air when those gorgeous eyes had narrowed and rage coated her voice.
Erin Jerome was so much more than she pretended to be.
The beast within him roared when she got closeandwhen she got too far away.
“Sorry, man, you heard the orders.” Jamison McGee, a good cop and a good human, frowned at him. “You’re gonna have to stay?—”
“It’s all right, James.” Jude rocked back on his heels. He could smell the blood from here. “She’ll be changing her mind.” Because he hadn’t been kidding when he told the pretty ADA that she’d need him.
Jude glanced toward the vinyl chairs near the entrance. “When she comes looking for me, I’ll be waiting.”
Five minutes, ten tops, and he’d wager his ADA would be running her sexy ass right back to him. Because it seemed that another monster was out hunting. One that had killed right under the noses of the Baton Rouge PD.
Talk about a bold asshole.
Jude could almost admire that boldness. Almost.
* * *
The scent of the blood burned her nostrils. Most of her kind liked that smell. Shehatedit.
Erin straightened her shoulders and strode forward. Four uniformed cops stood just in front of the entrance to the pen. They glanced up at the clicking of her heels. One of them—an older guy with rich, dark brown skin, graying hair and a strong chin—stepped toward her. “Ms. Jerome, you’d better brace yourself.”
He looked worried. Looked like he thought she was going to pass out after one glance at the body.
She really wasn’t a passing out kind of girl. “Thanks for the warning.” The second one she’d gotten in less than three minutes. But Grant Tyler wasn’t being an ass with his warning. The young cop next to him was stark white and shaking. He looked likehemight be doing some fainting at any moment.
Oh, fabulous.A cop ready to hit the floor was never a good sign.
Erin pointed toward the door. “Show him to me.”
Grant pushed open the door.
The stench nearly made her gag. Then she saw him.
Bobby’s arms had been yanked through the bars, left to hang over the edges of his cell. His wrists had been cut, long, thick slices, and his blood pooled on the floor. His eyes were open, wide, and slashes crossed his face. A blood-red smile stretched from one ear to the next.
Positioned. Styled. His body had been arranged for the ultimate shock value.
Erin’s lips pressed together.
“You okay?” Grant whispered.
The crime scene guy took a photo.
She flinched. “Fine.” No, no, she wasn’tfine.What the hell had happened? Her gaze jerked to the left, then the right. The other cells were empty. Transfers had been made just hours before, and she knew Bobby had been the only prisoner left in holding.
