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“Demon.” Harold grunted, holding up his hands. “The hunter’s a demon.” He raised one brow. “What’s the girl?”
“An Ignitor,” Kelly bit out. “An out-of-control Ignitor who needs to be put down.”
“But you weren’t putting her down,” the words slipped out instantly. Antonio leveled his stare on the agent. “You were just knocking her out.”
“Because I don’t get the pleasure of killing her.”
Okay, that was personal. The job and personal issues didn’t mix. The special agent should’ve recognized that fact long ago.
Papers rustled as Harold opened the files on his desk. “You used drugs on her because your boss, Anthony Miller, gave orders that Ms. Carter was to be brought in alive, and deadly force was to be avoided at all costs.”
“He’s not my boss.”
“Fine. He’s the senior agent.”
“And his ass is in Miami right now. He doesn’t even understand what’s happening here. He doesn’t?—”
“I know Miller.” Harold folded his hands on top of the desk. “He understands everything.”
Her hands fisted at her sides. Her right hand seemed a little too close to her holster. “Wynter might have been a good hunter once, but he’s obviously turned because of her. She has that effect on men. The woman seduces, gets men to trust her, then she betrays them.” Her breath rushed out as she stalked toward Antonio. “Your friend is in over his head. Even a demon can’t control her fire.”
His brows rose. “Now that would depend on just how strong the demon is.”
Her eyes couldn’t narrow much more. “We requested Zane Wynter because he’d handled Ignitors before. He killed the last rogue, I—we—thought he could handle her, too.”
The picture suddenly became clearer. “You contracted with Night Watch, and you were hoping the demon would kill your Ignitor, weren’t you? You didn’t want him to apprehend her, you wanted him to execute her. That way, your hands would’ve been clean then, right? You would have done your job and gotten your wish. Jana Carter would be dead.”
Her smug smile was his answer.
Hell. “Zane Wynter doesn’t kill for sport.”
She laughed. “He’s a demon. Of course, he does.”
He was aware of old Harold stiffening and the temperature in the room dropped a good ten degrees. But the special agent didn’t seem to notice that change. “You think all demons are evil?” he asked her, just to be sure he understood.
“They’re demons, aren’t they?”
“You know it’s biological, right? It’s not like they’re the devil’s minions. They’re just?—”
“Supposed to be descended from the Fallen. Right. Whatever. They’re not human. I’ve stared into their eyes. Their real eyes, and I know they’re evil. Just as evil as she is.”
Antonio could only shake his head. “You don’t have a lot of faith in people, do you?”
She didn’t answer.
Right. That was an answer. “What did Jana do to piss you off so much?”
“You mean, other than go on a burning and killing spree for her entire life?”
“Yep, other than that.” He felt Harold’s eyes on him. The chief wasn’t missing a thing.
“She—”
“I’ve heard enough.” Harold’s bear-like growl filled the room as he shoved to his feet. “Special Agent Thomas, you need to go check in with your boss.”
“He’s not?—”
“Check in with your senior officer.” His right hand held a fountain pen in its white-knuckled grip. “Maybe he’s got word on your would-be prisoners.”
