Circle of Desire (3 page)

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and fought the need to move. She didn’t dare attack until the shifter was clear. The stake she held was just as deadly to him as the vampire, and the slightest mistake could prove costly.

The mist began forming again. She swore and slashed it with the stake. The air howled—an inhuman sound that sent a chill down her spine. The vapor disappeared, and the sense of old evil retreated, flowing up the stairs and out the door.

If she didn’t follow it, she’d lose it. But she couldn’t leave the shifter here alone, either. Not when instinct suggested he would not come out of this warehouse alive if she did.

“Back off, shifter, and let me at it,” she said.

“Like … hell.” His words were punctured with the smack of flesh against flesh.

“Hitting it is not going to damage it.” Exasperation edged her voice. If she lost the soul-sucker’s trail because of this man’s stubbornness …

“He’s injured. Bleeding.”

“And already dead,” the vampire snarled. “As you and the bitch will be by the time I’m finished with you both.”

“As I said to the lady, like hell.”

His words were emphasized by a grunt of effort and another smack of flesh. The vampire made an odd sound deep in his throat and staggered backward.
It was the break she’d been waiting for. She reached deep, drawing on all her remaining kinetic strength, and flung the shapeshifter back—far back, across the warehouse. Surprise whisked around her a moment before he smacked against the wall, then all emotion died.
He hit his head
. At least she didn’t have to worry about him getting in the way.

She raised the stake and ran at the vampire. He snarled and tried to dodge, but his movements were slowing, and he was nowhere near fast enough. She drove the stake through his chest into his black heart, then leaped sideways as he lashed at her with clawed hands. His fingers slithered down her leg, tearing through her jeans and into flesh. She cursed and kicked him, shoving him backward.

He hit the ground with a splat and didn’t do anything more than writhe. Blue fire encased his torso, and the smell of burning meat churned her stomach. She climbed to her feet, brushed the dirt from her hands, and watched the vampire incinerate. She felt no elation at her victory. She couldn’t. Not when there was one more horror still running free.

When there was nothing left but ash, she turned and ran for the stairs. The shifter was safe enough now that the vampire was dead, and with any luck, Gran and she would be well gone by the time he awoke. Because if the hostility he’d projected was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be pleasant to be within a ten-mile radius of the man when he eventually stirred. Especially after she’d knocked him cold.

The moonlight seemed abnormally bright after the shuttered darkness within the warehouse. She blinked
and hesitated, searching for some sign of the soul-sucker. Evil was a distant echo, moving away fast.

She shifted shape and flew down the alley, skimming past the cops who raced toward the warehouse. This time, the creature headed for the main street. Perhaps it hoped the noise and motion might loosen any psychic hold she had on it—which was a definite possibility after all she’d been through tonight.

The soul-sucker hit the street, its ethereal form getting lost in the warm glow of lights. It whisked away to the right, and the psychic leash she had on it snapped with a suddenness that had her plummeting to the ground.

She hit with a grunt, then shifted shape and rolled onto her back, staring up at the moon.

She’d lost it.

E
THAN IMPATIENTLY THRUST THE PARAMEDIC
’
S HAND AWAY
. “Enough, already. The cut is not that bad.”

“Sir, the wound needs stitches—”

“It’s stopped bleeding, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, but there’s still the possibility of concussion—”

If the ache in his head was anything to go by, it was more than a possibility. But right now, he had no intention of going anywhere—as much as the paramedics and the captain might wish it. “I haven’t got a concussion, and I have no desire to go to the hospital.”

“Sir—”

“Goddamn it, Morgan.” The second voice rose out of the night, cutting through the paramedic’s words like a foghorn. “I thought I told you to keep away from this investigation.”

The captain huffed to a stop three feet away, nose and cheeks beacon-bright in the stark light coming from the ambulance’s interior. Ethan knew the cause was not so much the cold as blood pressure. This case would kill Benton if they didn’t solve it soon.

“You didn’t tell me to keep away from the warehouse,”
he said with a calm he certainly didn’t feel. “It’s not my fault one of the suspects decided to head my way.”

“I told you to stay
completely
away. That means out of the whole damn area.”

Benton dragged a stick of gum from his pocket and undid the silvery wrapper. He offered it to Ethan, who shook his head. The captain had given up smoking two months earlier—in an effort to save some money more than save his health—but he now appeared to be spending more on gum than he ever had on cigarettes. And his health hadn’t improved either—although this case certainly wasn’t helping anyone’s physical or mental well-being.

“Just what the hell happened in that warehouse?”

Ethan shrugged. “As I told Mark, I heard the man and woman enter the building. I wasn’t sure who they were or what they were doing, so I waited. When the man attacked the woman, I intervened, but the woman somehow managed to knock me unconscious. You know the rest.”

Benton grunted. “Was there anyone else in the warehouse other than those two?”

“No.” Though he’d certainly had a sense of something else, something he couldn’t exactly define. “Why?”

“Because the woman claims there was.”

“From what I saw, that woman isn’t exactly sane.” Refusing to run after he’d pulled that man off her,
then
knocking him unconscious? What sort of stupidity was that?

Benton snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. She and her grandmother are the oddest pair you’re ever likely to meet.”

And meeting them was next on his priority list—as much as the captain was likely to disapprove. He crossed his arms. “They’re certainly not cops, so why the hell are they on this investigation?”

“Pressure from higher up.” Benton shrugged. “I’m not happy about it, but I’ve got no choice. And they did save the kid tonight. You have to give them that.”

Yeah, but there was no guarantee tonight was connected to the other kidnappings … murders. The word sat like a dead weight in his gut. He rubbed a hand across his jaw and caught a scent that reminded him of summer rain. The woman. Even though he’d barely touched her, her fragrance branded his skin. His pulse quickened and lust rose, as hot as anger.

He took a deep breath, battling for control.
Damn the moon’s rising!
It couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Are they FBI?” He wouldn’t have thought so—not with the way the woman had acted in the warehouse.

“No, they’re psychics. Working for an organization known as the Damask Circle.”

“Psychics?”
Scorn edged his words. Such mumbo jumbo was
not
what this case needed right now. “The press are having a field day already. What are they going to do if they discover we’ve resorted to psychics?”

The captain sighed. “I know. But as I said, I don’t have a choice on this one. Besides, I’ll use whatever—and whomever—I can to stop the bastard doing this.”

Amen to that
. Ethan grabbed his jacket and stood up. “You mind if I go talk with Mark for a few minutes?”

“Like it’s going to make any difference if I say no.” Benton unwrapped another stick of gum and shoved it in his mouth. “But a few minutes is all you’re getting, then I want your ass out of here. As of tonight, you’re on leave.”

This time it was anger that rose in a red tide. He struggled to keep his voice calm as he said, “Captain, you know I can’t—”

“You’re too involved, Morgan.”

Of course he was too involved—three days ago his goddamn
niece
had become one of the missing kids. And he’d promised Luke—his brother, and the only family member he acknowledged these days—that he’d find her, and bring her back safely. Which was a stupid thing to do, but he just couldn’t help it. Luke and his family were the one truly good thing remaining in his life.

He flexed his fingers and took a deep breath. Anger wouldn’t help his cause. It would only confirm the captain’s opinion that he couldn’t keep a clear mind. “I know this case better than anyone. And I’ve got a better nose for hunting down killers than anyone else in the squad.” Which was certainly more accurate than the captain would ever know.

“I’m not denying either of those facts.” Benton paused, beady eyes narrowing. “But when was the last time you slept properly?”

Ethan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“And when was the last time you ate a decent meal?”

“Cap, that has nothing to do with my ability—”

“That has
everything
to do with it! You’re running
on anger, Morgan, and nothing else. God, man, you look like
shit
.”

Wasn’t
that
the truth! But the cause wasn’t just lack of sleep or food or his missing niece. It was the heat of the moon pounding through his blood.

“Your few minutes are ticking by, Morgan. Move it.”

Ethan put on his jacket and pushed past the paramedic and captain.

“Morgan?”

He hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

“Leave. If I catch your ass in the area again, and I’ll lock you up until this thing is over.”

Ethan’s smile was grim. With the full moon rising, there wasn’t a prison cell in the country that could hold him. “Sure, Cap.”

The moon caressed his shoulders as he walked away—a touch that burned clear through to his soul. The darkness stirred deep within, and hunger boiled through his veins. He thrust clenched hands into his jacket pockets and tried to ignore the moon-spun fever. He didn’t have time to quench his physical needs right now. Not when every minute that passed brought the reality of Janie’s death one step closer.

Not when the fiends behind these kidnappings were so close he could almost smell them.

He walked into the warehouse and made his way down the stairs. Floodlights had been brought in an hour ago, and the shadows had long since fled. Oddly enough, the room looked smaller than it had when encased in darkness. Forensics methodically searched for the smallest of clues, but he doubted they’d find anything beyond the oddly human-shaped smudge of ash.

Mark Fairfield, his friend and partner of the last three years, squatted near the dark stain on the concrete floor. Ethan stopped next to him.

“They figured out what that is yet?”

“Human, if the small bits of bone they’ve found are anything to go by.” Mark’s voice was grim.

“A fire hot enough to do this to a human would have killed me, too.”

“Yeah. And made a mess of the warehouse, too.” Mark looked up. “By your reckoning, you were only unconscious for three to four minutes. Not enough time for this to happen.”

“No.” But the fact was, it had. “You questioned the woman?”

“Katherine Tanner? Yeah. She’s not saying much, but I have a feeling she knows exactly what transpired.”

Her name was Katherine? Odd. He’d expected something more … feisty. “Is Benton taking her downtown for questioning?”

“Nah. Apparently the pair of them have friends in high places, and he’s walking on eggshells around them. Besides, until we know for sure what this is and how long it’s been here, what the hell are we going to question them about?”

They could try asking just what this thing had been before it burned. He’d hit the creature with every ounce of strength he had. No human could have stood up to those blows, because
he
wasn’t human.

No, he thought bitterly, he was something a whole lot
less
savory.

“Nothing else in the warehouse?”

His effort to keep his voice carefully neutral failed, and Mark’s expression became sympathetic.

“No,” he said softly. “Nothing at all.”

Ethan nodded. At least he could hold on to hope just that little bit longer—however false he knew it to be.

“Are the two women still here?”

“Benton let them go about half an hour ago.”

“Do we know where they’re staying?”

Mark considered him. “Benton told you to keep away from this case.”

“Would you?”

“I guess not.” Mark rose. “They’re at the Motel Six down on Beach Road.”

“Thanks.”

Mark nodded. “I’m guessing you want me to keep you updated on anything that happens?”

“You said it.” Ethan hesitated. “As of tonight, I’m on leave. Don’t call me from the office.”

“I’m not stupid.” His partner looked past him. “Benton’s headed this way.”

“Which means my time is up. Keep in touch, partner.”

“I will if you do.”

Ethan swung around and raised his hands. “I’m outta here, Captain.”

“Good. Go home and rest, Morgan. Let us catch this bastard.”