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“Who isshe?” The trespasser’s gruff, rumbling voice shook her to her core as he pointed in her direction.
What?
Frankie’s eyes shot to Jace. “You know this guy?”
Jace lowered his gun and clipped the piece back in place, but he ignored her and answered the man’s question instead. “She’s none of your business. What the fuck are you doing here, David?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m looking for your sorry ass. Damon’s been blowin’ up your phone nonstop with no answer.”
Frankie eyed the man from head to large leather boots. With buzz-cut black hair, a coat that could hide a load of heavy artillery and a silver Star of David around his neck, there was only one thing this man could be: a hunter. He had to be another hunter. Her head spun. Two hunters in her territory, while she was already chasing after a rogue killer was enough. But a whole damn division. She hadn’t really allowed herself to ponder that. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she wasn’t quite sure how much more she could handle.
“I ditched my phone on the way to HQ.”
Frankie lifted a brow. “When were you going to tell me you went to Headquarters?”
Jace shot her a look, like she was one to talk about keeping secrets, and she supposed she deserved that, before his friend quickly moved on.
“Well losing that phone was probably a good idea. You’re in some deep shit, but...” The hunter named David gestured to the blood on his clothing. “There’s been a double killing. The local P.D is losing their heads over it.”
Jace groaned. “You gotta be shitting me.”
David shook his head. “No B.S. involved. The bodies were dumped less than a mile from the division warehouse. Chet’s gone wild looking for you. I came by here to warn you.”
“I don’t need any warning about Chet. He and Headquarters can kiss my ass. Losing my job isn’t enough? He needs to twist the knife too?”
“Apparently so.” David lowered his eyes to the floor and cleared his throat. “Your name was carved into their forearms, J.”
11
Frankiestepped backand placed her hand on the kitchen counter, gripping the edge for support. The anger rolling off Jace triggered all her primal instincts. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and even though he was directing his rage elsewhere, her body urged her to shift into defense mode. His hands shook at his sides, and his jaw clenched.
“Was it Chet or the killer?”
David cleared his throat. “I don’t know, but now Chet’s covering his ass by saying there’s a possibility you may be involved. He and Headquarters put out the word that any hunter who encounters you is supposed to bring you in. You and I both know what that means.”
Jace practically growled. His rage made her jittery. She wanted to help him, but she suspected that her help was the last thing he wanted.
David sighed. “Look, man, I’m sorry but—”
The door burst open, and the bang as it hit the wall echoed through the small apartment. She jumped. Screws and wooden splinters from the shattered wood scattered across the floor. The man who stepped through sent chills down her spine. She backed away before she could stop herself. Cold eyes seared into Jace’s, and she was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of that stare. Her stomach churned.
Two other men stepped in behind the latest intruder, one with golden blond hair, the second with his face shadowed by a Mets cap—the muscle to back up Mr. Ice Eyes. Frankie eyed Ice up and down. Not that he needed any backup muscle with his massive biceps and natural scare tactics.
“Would you look at that? Easy to find and a supernatural piece of shit. You’re a disgrace to your division.” Ice shook his head. “We came up from Brooklyn to send a message.”
Jace let out a harsh snarl, unable to control his anger. His eyes burned with a golden fire and he flashed his canines.
“Holy motherfucker,” Blondie said in a slow, southern drawl. “It’s true.”
The Mets fan’s jaw dropped. “Damn it, McCannon. You’re a fucking shifter?” he said, and she heard traces of a Jersey accent in his voice.
David stepped forward. “Look, man, it’s not what you think.”
“Shut up, Aronowitz, and move out of my way or you’re going down with him as a traitor.” The muscles in Ice’s throat strained and his fists clenched as he stared Jace down. “I didn’t want to believe it, but you haven’t left me any choice, you woman-beating whoreson. You just signed your own death warrant, you werewolf piece of shit. Those dead girls can all trace back to you, and now Chet says you’ve got the same mutation as the killer you’ve been hunting.”
Frankie yelled before she could stop herself. “Stop!”
Ice turned toward her. The power pulsating off him was staggering. Her breath caught. She fought not to step back and show her weakness. There was no backing down now. She shoved her fear aside and concentrated on absorbing the anger that hung thick in the crowded apartment air. It would make it easier for her to shift.
