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Jacobson’s black eyes widened. “No!”
So Jacobson was another one who loved to torture prey, but couldn’t stand pain himself. “Who’d she kill in the alley?” The others will get her. Jacobson knew the guy who’d burned, no doubt.
Zane let the blade cut through skin.
“Vincent!” Yelled. “Shit! I-it was Vincent Gunner! He was with me. There were two humans there, but he—he told ’em to stay back, that we could handle her.”
“But you couldn’t, could you?” Vincent Gunner. He knew the name. A powerful vampire on Night Watch’s kill list. Gunner had been a cruel prick who enjoyed slowly bleeding humans dry—women. Only women.
Had he picked the wrong prey? Or was something more going on here?
“Hey, Wynter!”
Zane’s head lifted at Jude Donovan’s call. The shifter stood just inside the doorway of their holding area. Jude clutched some papers in his hand and lifted them toward Zane. “I found your girl.”
Zane glanced back at the demon. The knife still bit into Jacobson’s flesh.
“I’ll finish him,” Pak said.
And Zane knew he would. Knew Pak would get every drop of information, and then he’d eliminate the demon’s threat.
Zane stepped back.
“I need some help!” Jacobson told the charmer. “Get me a doctor, get me?—”
“You’re a demon,” Pak returned. “You’ll heal from just about anything.”
“I want out, man. I need?—”
“Some folks are waiting on you, Henry.”
The demon jerked on the table. Strained against the straps. “A jail’s not gonna hold me! Nothing can, nothin?—”
“I didn’t say you’d be going to jail.” Still no emotion in Pak’s voice. “I just said that folks were waiting on you.”
Jacobson’s case had been a government deal. Because, yeah, the government knew about the supernaturals out there. They liked to pretend they didn’t, better for the public image that way. But they knew, and they had their own “extermination” list.
Jacobson was at the top. Some men and women in black would be coming for him soon and, after they picked him up, Jacobson wouldn’t be returning to Baton Rouge again.
Zane caught Jacobson’s whimper just as he reached Jude’s side. The demon seemed to finally understand. This is the end for you, Jacobson.
Jude held up the pages, and the first thing Zane saw was…her.
No, not Jana. Not exactly. Different hair. Blond. Different eyes. Brown, not blue. Same mouth. Same nose.
Pak had told him a blond woman was seen at the other scenes. So she’d dyed her hair. And he’d found a black-haired lady at Francis Street. “Who is she?” he demanded.
They left holding and walked back to the Night Watch’s main offices. “She’s got some aliases,” Jude informed him. “Katherine Tanner, Judy Bright, Melissa Jones. But from what I can tell, her real name’s Jana Carter?—”
Jana. Wait, she’d given him her real name?
“She was put in a juvenile facility when she was thirteen. She stayed there for five years.” Jude’s bright gaze met his. “Apparently, the woman liked to start fires.”
Fuck.
“Police want her for a series of fires in New Orleans,” Jude said.
Zane took the pages and scanned the info. His prey was thirty-one, five-feet-four inches tall, and one hundred-and-thirty-three pounds.
