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Pak shook his head. “You can take the fire. Jude can’t. That means he can’t take her.”
Her.
“I don’t think an accelerant was used on Francis Street,” Pak said, “Just like no accelerant was used three nights ago at the fire on Biltmore that took out two vampires, or at the three other fires in New Orleans that occurred over the last few months. Fires all aimed at supernaturals.”
Okay, Pak sure had Zane’s attention. Someone was targeting supernaturals?
“They were aimed at the Other, but it looks like humans were caught in the crossfire. Two human scientists died.”
Hell.
“Of course, the arson investigators think an accelerant was used because those fires burned so fast and so hot.” Pak reached behind him and scooped a manila file off the top of the desk. “A woman was spotted at the crime scenes. Average height. About one-hundred-thirty pounds.”
Zane’s gut clenched.
“Witnesses saw a blonde, with curly hair, running from the other fires.”
Blonde. Maybe she changed her appearance. Now he knew what Pak meant. “The woman tonight was a victim.”
Pak stared back at him, that dark stare unblinking. “You sure about that?”
Too much doubt was in Pak’s voice, and Zane realized that no, he wasn’t sure. In this world, you couldn’t be sure of anything or anyone. Damn. He might have been played. Jaw clenched, Zane demanded, “Just what am I dealing with here?”
“If I’m right, the woman you’re looking for is a human with a very special gift. A gift of fire.”
Shit. An Ignitor. A human who could create fire from nothing, who could let it burn fiery hot and so very fast. A human who could destroy too much.
“You’ve had experience dealing with Ignitors,” Pak added.
Zane’s head jerked in agreement. Not the best experience.
“I want you to find this one. Find her, and bring her in.” The briefest of hesitations. “If the woman from tonight isn’t the one we need, clear her, and move on. But I expect to have the Ignitor who is making these fires contained within the next forty-eight hours.”
Well, it would be easy enough to find the dark-haired beauty with the bedroom eyes. The EMTs had taken her in. She’d still be at the hospital now.
Unless she ran. Unless she wasn’t the victim. Unless she screwed me.
Zane forced his hands to unclench. “Sometimes Ignitors can be hard to contain.” He paused, because the question had to be asked. “Is this a kill mission?” With Ignitors, there wasn’t always a choice. If the fire raged too hot…
Kill or be killed.
“We want her alive,” Pak told him. Then the cagey bastard added, “For now.”
* * *
How long did it take to bandage a bite mark? Jeez, it wasn’t like the demon had even broken the skin. After two hours—two freaking hours—Jana managed to slip away from the nurses and the docs in their garish green uniforms. She snuck out of the hospital’s exit, making sure she stayed in the shadows, and she hurried down the street as quickly as she could.
It took her about two minutes to realize that she was being trailed. Bad, bad mistake. She should have realized that fact in about thirty seconds.
Must be slipping.
Jana rolled her shoulders, trying to keep her body loose. In this town, she knew she had to be ready for anything. Sure, the majority of women would probably worry about muggers waiting in the night. Muggers weren’t Jana’s concern. She knew she was more likely to be attacked by a hungry vamp or a pissed-off demon.
No, Jacobson’s dead. No way did he get out.
She hoped.
Okay. There were two ways to play this. She could attack with guns blazing or…
