Page 16

Obsessed with death, but she should have worked like hell to prevent her own.

Palm on the steering wheel, foot rapidly switching from brake to gas, he tore around the corner and away from the sirens. He’d have to make friends with someone in the local police department. Tonight was too close.

He repeated her words over and over in his mind.

I can’t. The fury. Make it stop.

Was she regretful? Then why the fuck was she covered in the man’s blood? Why was she so angry? Sad, yeah, that was a banshee’s MO, but fury? Maybe banshees didn’t enjoy death, but somehow fed on it? Not many banshees in this part of the world, so he hadn’t had many run-ins with them.

Red lights flashed and turned up the hill as he came down. The hour so late it was now early, he pulled onto the empty highway.

He voice-dialed the coroner.

“Rock County Coroner’s Office,” a familiar voice answered.

Fuck. “I need a pickup. Screamer.”

Long pause, then her words drew out when she finally responded. “Of course, hunter. What can you tell me?”

“Police are arriving at the scene now, so you’ll want to get the body from them fast.”

Another pause. Voice halting and starting again. “Vann? Is that… you?”

“Not a word, Lexi.” He’d known she would figure it out, eventually. A few pitches lower than average, his voice wasn’t easy to mask.

Like all forensic pathologists, she would have taken an oath. Punishable by death, if she violated it. Sounded dire, and Vann wasn’t aware of it ever being executed, but the threat existed for a reason.

“Of course.”

“Not even to Eryn.”

“I would never violate the agreement.” Her tone lightened. “Doctors do know how to keep secrets, you know, even from their sisters.”

Surprised at her ability to make a joke, knowing what he was capable of—even committing murder if needed—he laughed. “Appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it, hunter. We’ll take care of the banshee. Thank you.” After seeing him with a sun-loving vampire for a friend, Lexi must have a million questions, but she didn’t ask. Not tonight, anyway. Right now, she had work to do.

He realized how fast he was going and eased up. Covered in blood. Getting pulled over right now would be… bad. He cranked up the sinuous pulse of his playlist and rolled down the windows.

Technically, he could go days without sleep, but not happily. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was ready to crash. Thank fuck. That research could wait.

The garage door opened as he neared, and he backed in.

Tires crunched, turning off the main road. Headlights lit up the narrow lane, then turned into the driveway.

Fuck. He turned his back to the lights.

Stripping naked might look weirder than coming home in the early hours of the morning looking like a serial killer. Nah. Fifty-fifty on weirdness. One hundred percent weirdness… worse than weird, if he was not only naked, but also covered in blood.

This is why he’d bought a house. So he didn’t have to clean up in dark alleys. Neighbors complicated things. Especially neighbors who worked night shift.

Eryn backed into the neighboring garage bay.

He shielded his body from the bright view of the garage lights, and walked into the shadows between their homes.

She climbed out and shut the door with a bang, stretched her legs, and shook her arms out. She sank her hands into the pockets of her joggers, her t-shirt darker where her wet hair had dampened the shoulders. “Hi there.”

“Hey.” Fuck. Speechless and clueless, he stood stock-still. Creepy as fuck, too, melted into the shadows.