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“Thankfully,” I muttered, then jumped as my phone rang. The tone told me it was Hunter, and I groaned. “Like I need to speak to her right now.”
“Talking on the phone is preferable to talking in person, is it not?”
“There is that.” I hit the ANSWER button and said, “I had nothing to report, which is why I didn’t report.”
Her voice was cool and disbelieving. “So the woman wasn’t there?”
“No, she was there, but she did a runner on us. We chased her to her dressing room, but she escaped and left lots of little friends behind to play with us.”
And the memory of it had my skin crawling all over again.
Amusement briefly touched Hunter’s lips. “Spiders, I’m guessing?”
“Lots of them, as I said.”
“How quaint that you’re afraid of something so small.”
“We all have an Achilles’ heel. Spiders just happen to be mine.”
Something glimmered in her eyes. Something that could have been humor but felt like something far darker. “Oh, you have more than just spiders, my dear.”
I found myself clenching the phone so tight, I was in danger of cracking the case. “What weakens can also give you strength. You might want to remember that sometime.”
“My, my,” she murmured. “Aren’t we all aggressive this afternoon? I wonder why.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Talking to uncooperative vampires tends to do that to me.”
“I gather you mean those who run Hallowed Ground rather than myself?”
“Of course.” I kept my voice flat, without inflection. To have done anything else would have been dangerous. “I didn’t learn much, but I did get a picture of our suspect.”
“So she is the one we’re after?”
“Hard to tell, because she was using some sort of shield that stopped Azriel sensing what she was. But given she had a boatload of spiders sitting in her dressing room, I think it likely.”
“So she left nothing behind other than the spiders?”
“No.” I hesitated. “But she’s killed two nights in a row, so I’d bet she’ll attempt to do so again tonight.”
“More than likely.” Hunter studied me, a deeper darkness creeping into her eyes. “I believe you talked to Stanford, despite my warning not to.”
I shivered, wondering how she’d known. The bartender, perhaps? Then I remembered—I had a damn Cazador following me around, reporting every little move back to her. “I had no choice. The owner wasn’t there and the bartender didn’t know anything.”
Hunter snorted. “Bartenders know everything.”
“Well, this one wasn’t talking.” At least not to me. “The only way to get any information was to talk to Stanford.”
“And did he have anything interesting to say beyond his lack of knowledge about his fill-in entertainer?”
I hesitated. Stanford might be planning to oust Hunter, but he could also be doing nothing more than stirring the pot. Hell, for all I knew, he’d picked up the phone and talked to Hunter the minute I was out the door. Which meant that no matter what I said, it wasn’t going to make her happy.
Although I could hardly lie, given the Cazador.
“Nothing worth listening to,” I said eventually.
>He guided me across to the bed and sat me down. He plucked the phone from my fingers, dropped it lightly on the bed, then squatted in front of me and clasped my hands between his. Warmth began to flow through me, gently chasing away the remaining weakness.
“What did she do?”
