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“They’re like the freaking supernatural police.”
Jace shook his head, putting down the compress. “More like dirty cops. Not every hunter is a good guy.”
She drew a deep breath. “Like Mr. Ice.”
“Who?”
“The one you stabbed and beat the crap out of. Eli.”
“True.” He nodded. “Well, ‘Mr. Ice’ is the head of the Brooklyn division. He thinks he’s tough shit because he slays vamps. You’ve gotta be more than a good shot to take down a bloodsucker, so he thinks he’s got all the right moves. He’s not dirty. He’s just a miserable person, and clearly a kiss ass to Chet.”
Frankie pitched the half-melted ice cube into the trash can near the dresser. “Why’s Chet have it out for you so bad, anyway? Other than the smack down in the interrogation room, I mean.”
Jace shrugged. “The killings have been going on sporadically for a few weeks now, and since I haven’t bagged the guy yet, Chet got it in his thick skull that I’m not doing my job. Now that he knows I’m a half-breed and with the whole name-carving shit, he’s clearly aiming to paint it like I’m involved. Gives him all the more reason to get rid of me. Hell if I know why yet.”
“Not sure why you’d want to be involved with guys like that, especially considering what you are.”
“They’re not all bad. There’s gotta be someone to protect humans when they don’t stand a chance on their own, but since the Cronos buyout, things have been tense. Feels like we’ve been split down the middle. It’s the guys like me who’ve been around the block a few times versus the new. Not sure where it originated from, but it’s come to a head with this. This conflict with Chet was a small spark in an already lit powder keg. I should’ve seen it coming.”
“But you did, didn’t you? Hence the burner apartment.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You could put it that way.”
She nodded at that. “What sort of grudge does he have against you?”
Jace grinned ruefully. “From day one, I’ve refused to put up with his bull. That’s why he’s got it in for me.”
She sat down near his feet. “And now that he knows what you are, he pretty much hates you.”
“You got it, babe.”
“So all we need to do is find the real killer and you can clear your name, right?”
He shook his head. “No can do. I’m branded for life with this wolf stuff. I always knew that asshole would come back and haunt me.”
“Asshole?” Frankie stared at him with wide eyes.
“My old man.”
“He’s dead? I’m sorry to hear that—I guess.”
“Hell no. I have no clue where he is, and I haven’t since I was sixteen. And if he’s dead, I’m sure as hell not sorry. Good riddance.” He grabbed a gun and some bullets from his duffel bag.
“Oh.” A constricting feeling plagued Frankie’s chest as she stared into his face. She could see the pain behind his eyes.
He loaded the shells. “He just up and left one day. Hung us out to dry.”
She remembered what it had been like when her parents died, how alone she’d felt even though she’d been an adult. Facing that kind of pain when still a kid seemed more than unfair. She imagined that knowing his father had chosen to leave made that pain even worse. “You must have been devastated.”
“My mom was. I was sad for her sake, but mostly I was glad he was out of our lives.” He locked the gun’s barrel into place before he laid the fully loaded weapon at his side.
“You didn’t get along?”
Jace laughed. “Sure, we got along—when he wasn’t beating me up or smacking my mom around.”
Frankie’s stomach flipped. “That’s horrible. I don’t know what to say, Jace. Have you ever talked about it with anyone?”
He reached into his bag and dug around. “I don’t need a shrink.”
