The lady didn’t meet his gaze. Just kept one small hand over his heart while the other swiped the cloth over the five long claw marks.
No denying what they were.
She turned from him, her hip and shoulder brushing against him as she rinsed the blood from the cloth.
“Want to talk about it?” He inched closer, the better to trap her against the sink.
Erin’s face was pale. “I have occasional night terrors, okay? Had ’em for years, even before the creep got attached to me.” Her lips pressed together. “I don’t remember the dreams.”
“Don’t you?”
She flinched.
His hands rose slowly and curled over her shoulders. “If you don’t want to talk about the dream, then how about you try telling me one more time that you aren’t like me. Because I know a shifter’s claws when I see them.” And feel them.
Her gaze held his in the mirror. Her hair was a dark curtain around her face, and despite her height, she still looked fragile, delicate, against him.
Looks could be so deceiving.
“Having claws…doesn’t make me a shifter.” Her chin lifted and color finally began to drift back into her cheeks. “Any number of Other have claws.”
True enough. His head lowered over her shoulder. She’d finally ditched her business clothes and slipped on a loose pair of pajama pants and a white top. The neckline was low and scooped, showing off that perfect cleavage.
Jude bent over her. Really, he was in the best position. That sweet ass before him. Her neck, all but bared so close to his mouth.
A faint tremble shook her.
He lowered his head, setting his mouth right over her throat. Just an inch separated him from that sweet flesh.
Vamps weren’t the only ones who liked to bite.
“Jude…”
His lips closed over her skin. Kissed. Sucked. Her head fell back, exposing even more of that tempting flesh.
His mouth eased over her. Found that sweet spot where neck and shoulder met. A favorite for his kind.
His fangs burned.
He bit her.
Not too hard. Not a marking.
Just a taste.
That firm ass rocked back against him as she moaned.
His heart thudded, the drumming filling his ears. The dream—night terror, whatever the hell it had been—was gone.
Now it was just the two of them. He was ready, more than ready, his cock hard and thick with lust, and she wanted him, he knew that.
Erin lunged forward, her palms slapping against the counter. “No.”
His teeth snapped together as he fought to rein in his hunger.
Her hair fell over her face, shielding her from his view. Erin’s shoulders heaved as she pulled in several deep breaths.
Jude glanced toward the shower and thought about hopping in, then cranking on the ice cold water.
“I’m not what you think,” she whispered, still with her head down.
Not gonna have that. “Look at me.” Guttural. The need was too stark for anything else.
Her head lifted and the coal black strands slid back. Her eyes held his in the mirror.
She said, “I-I’ve got shifter blood.”
No doubt.
Her head moved to the left, then right. “But I can’t shift. I can’t.” Anger, no, fury in her voice.
Well, hell.
He’d heard of a few others like her. Hybrids. From the matings of shifters and humans. Or shifters and charmers or even demons. Some hybrids came out even stronger than the purebloods. The strength of both parents, the weaknesses of neither.
But then there were tales of other hybrids…
Those who got the weaknesses, but not the strengths.
No, I’ve felt her strength. Erin sure as shit isn’t weak.
“I’m…flawed, okay? The beast in me—hell, she may as well be dead.”
He leaned over her, grabbed her hands and trapped them against the countertop. “She’s not dead.” Erin felt so good against him.
Right.
“Look,” he ordered. Across the top of the counter, etched in deep, were claw marks. Just like the ones on his chest.
“You’ve got a beast all right, sweetheart. And whether you can shift to let her play or not, doesn’t make a bit of difference.” He turned his head, rubbed his nose against her throat.
Some cats really were all alike.
“I want you, and I don’t fucking care what you are—or what you aren’t.”
Then, before the last of his control splintered, he shoved away from her.
Erin twisted, staring up at him with those eyes that he knew could easily see right through him. In too deep.
“And you’re fucking not flawed.”
He stormed for the connecting door. So the lock was broken. He needed space right then. Or else he was gonna pounce on her.
“You don’t know, hunter.” She’d followed him from the bathroom. Her voice sounded hollow and when he looked back, her face could have been a blank mask. “You don’t know me.” Her chin lifted. “And trust me, you’re better off that way.”
Jude had left her. Good. She didn’t need things to get sexual between them. It would just make the situation worse.
Like it could really get much worse.
He didn’t understand. When she’d told the guy she was flawed, she hadn’t been talking about her inability to shift. No, she’d always thought not shifting was a blessing.
“You don’t understand.” A whisper directed at the closed white door.
No one did.
Well, just one person…the bastard who’d left her the bloody love letter. He knew too well what she was like on the inside. That knowledge was why he was after her.
Damn him.
Flawed.
Broken.
Chapter 5
“We’ve got a new case.” Jude kicked the conference room door closed and eyed the man who’d first recruited him.
Jason Pak. Half-Korean, half-Choctaw—and one hundred percent charmer. A tough asshole, one who liked to wear three piece suits and go gator hunting on the weekend.
Well, not so much hunting, since his gift allowed him to talk with the gators.
Pak lifted a brow. The guy was pushing fifty, maybe sixty, but there wasn’t a single line on his face. “I’m aware of the situation with Bobby Burrows. I talked to the ADA myself last night.”
“Not just about Burrows.” Jude had come to Jason right away, because he wanted the backup of the agency. “It’s about Erin.”
“Our ADA is much more than she seems.” Pak eased back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Isn’t she, Jude?”
No shifter senses, but Pak always seemed to know everything about the Other.
“Gus is sure she’s not demon, and I don’t take her for a witch.” Pak’s black stare didn’t leave Jude’s face. “You stayed with her in a hotel last night. Does that mean she’s one of yours?”
Mine. If only. “It means she’s my client.”
Pak didn’t blink.
“She’s got an asshole stalking her. He’s Other. Last night, he left a bloody message on her wall.”
“I know.”
Of course he did. “She needs protection, the kind of protection the cops can’t give her.”
A slow nod. “But we can.”
Damn straight. “I want this guy.” Well, mostly he just wanted to kill him. “Give me Daniels and Wynter.” They were the best, well, after him.
As far as Jude knew, Pak was Night Watch. The agency was his baby. If there were superiors to him, Jude had never seen them or caught even a whisper of their names. So if he was going to pull in the other two agents, he’d need Pak’s go-ahead.
And if he didn’t get permission—screw it. He’d find another way to protect Erin and to nab the bastard.
“All right.” Pak’s long, bony fingers reached for the phone. The speaker clicked on and he ordered, “Send in Dee and Zane.”
> Yes.
Normally, Jude hunted alone. He liked it that way. But this time, he wanted extra eyes. Not eyes for his own back, but for Erin. The better to keep her safe.
Pak rose from the chair. Straightened his jacket. “Careful, shifter. If you let the case get personal, you could find yourself in dangerous waters.”
Too late. He watched silently as Pak left the room. When the door shut, he muttered, “It’s already personal.”
One beat of time. Two, then…
The door shoved open. Dee came in first, her small body moving fast. “Hey, Jude! What’s up?”
Zane strolled in after her. The guy always seemed to take things at a stroll. When the door shut behind him, he lifted a brow and just…waited.
Jude’s gaze drifted between them, the two agents he trusted the most at Night Watch.
Dee. Ms. Sandra Dee Daniels. But if any fool made the mistake of calling her Sandra Dee, she kicked his ass.
Dee was small but deadly. She could track a man across three states and barely break a sweat.
And Zane Wynter. Tall and lean, the guy knew how to hunt and how to catch prey. Dark hair, green eyes—a lie that, because Jude knew the cagey bastard really had demon black eyes—and a knack for tagging supernatural killers. The guy loved playing on the dark side and playing with his prey.
Dee stared, one golden brow arched. “This got anything to do with all the action that went down at the ADA’s place last night?”
Now, with Pak, Jude never knew where the guy got his info. But with Dee, he knew the source. Tony told that woman too much. Jude was about twenty percent sure the two of them had been lovers at one time.
“The ADA?” Zane stretched slowly, the floor creaking beneath him. “What’s Prichard doing now?”
“Not him.” Dee sighed. “The new woman—Jude’s lady.”
“She’s not mine.” Yet.
“Huh.” Zane’s lips curved down. “She human?”
Generally Zane’s first question on every case. The guy preferred to hunt Other, and he had a real deadly hunger for the demons who’d crossed the line.
The guy liked to kill his own. Whatever. Not Jude’s issue.
Erin was his issue. “The fuckup who is after her isn’t.” Missed you.
Zane’s gaze snapped to him. Now he’d gotten the demon’s attention.
“Just what went down there last night?” Dee asked, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck.
“Erin’s got a stalker. Some asshole who has been trailing her for months.”
“The guy tracked her to a new town?” Zane whistled. “Persistent, I’ll give him that.”
“Psychotic,” Jude fired back. “I’ll give him that.” He tossed the file he’d been compiling onto the conference table. “Crime scene photos from last night. The guy broke in, wrote a message on her wall—in blood.”
Dee rifled through the folder and picked out the image of the words MISSED YOU. “Animal blood?”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened around the photo. “This asshole a vampire?”
Dee’s one weakness—she let the vamp cases get to her, every time. One day, that could come back to bite her in the ass.
“No, a shifter.” He rubbed his thumb across the scar on his lip. After a moment, he dropped his hand and said, “Least that’s what Erin thinks.”
“She’s seen him?” Zane jumped on that.
Now Jude hesitated. “The lady says no, but…” But he didn’t believe her.
And he didn’t trust her, either.
You don’t know me.
Could be there was a lot more to this game than he realized. “Let’s go carefully on this one, okay?” These two knew the score, and they understood what he was saying and what he wasn’t.
“Where do you want to start?” Dee asked.
“With Erin.” Because everything was about her. “We need to dig into her past—”
“And tear her life apart.” From Zane. Never one for tact.
But he was right. “Yeah. Yeah, we do, but only her past life.” The lady had worked hard for a new start, and he didn’t want her secrets spread. “Don’t talk with anyone she works with yet. Let’s just find out everything we can about Erin before she came to Baton Rouge.”
Flawed.
He’d find out exactly what she’d meant by that.
And he’d stop the asshole on her trail, too.
“Bail is set for the defendant at two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Your Honor!” Erin jumped to her feet. Two hundred grand? That was spare change to Lorenzo Coleman. Why not just give the guy a ticket out of town? “The defendant is a flight risk!”
“He’s a pillar of the community,” Lee Givens, the snake of a defense attorney fired, on his feet now, too. “Despite the ADA’s attempt to slander my client, there is barely any evidence—”
“Enough for an indictment,” she snapped. When it came to drugs in Baton Rouge, good old Lorenzo was a definite leader. The guy had been running his operation for years, but the vice cops had finally gotten lucky and busted his ass when there had been a shit load of cocaine stocked in the back of his office.
And the judge wanted to let him out with a two hundred grand bail?
First Burrows, now this guy. Were the judges insane? She’d had one judge almost this bad back in Lillian. Judge Lance Harper. The guy had been a nightmare for her in the courtroom. Every time she’d been forced to appear before him, her stomach had knotted with dread because she knew the guy would do something crazy.
“An indictment, yeah, but not enough for a conviction!” Lee’s face flushed. “My client will walk on this, he will—”
The gavel slammed down. “Enough!” Judge Julia Went pointed the gavel at the defendant. “Surrender your passport, Mr. Coleman.”
Better than nothing, but…“Your Honor—”
“Bail is set at two hundred thousand.” Another hit of that gavel. “We’re done here, Ms. Jerome.”
Hell.
Erin gave a hard nod and tried to ignore the throbbing in her temples. She’d been in court for most of the morning, and with all the hell that had happened last night, she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
Dead on her feet—yeah, that old term fit right then.
She grabbed her briefcase and shoved her files and notes inside. She’d snag lunch from one of the vendors outside, then call Jude and see what he’d found out about the blood at her house.
With one hand, she pushed open the courtroom doors. A quick nod to the guard outside and then—
“Why are you chewing my ass, Jerome?”
Givens.
She looked heavenward, but didn’t find inspiration. Just a cracked ceiling.
“You don’t need to push this case so hard. Lorenzo is a good man, established in the community, with a family, a wife, two sons—”
Erin marched past him.
He followed.
She stabbed the elevator button and spared him a glance. “He’s a drug dealer.”
Givens smiled. An oily, used car salesman kind of smile. “Just because drugs were found on the premises doesn’t mean he’s a dealer…or that those drugs were even his.” His southern drawl was smooth as honey. He swept back his light brown hair and gazed at her with his falsely sincere blue eyes. “He’s a victim, he’s—”
She snorted. “I don’t have time to listen to this bull right now.” Another case waited, and she still had to check in for a report on the Burrows killing.
The elevator doors slid open. A rush of people pushed by her, then Erin hurried inside.
The doors began to close. Bye, Givens.
He flung out his hand and had the doors easing back. “You’re new in town, Erin. Don’t go making too many enemies, too quickly.”
Her brows lifted. “That a threat?” Her voice dripped ice. Lee Givens was an attractive guy, with one of those clean-cut faces that juries loved.
She had the feeling that inside, he could be a real snake.
/>
She’d always hated snakes. Back home in Lillian, she’d cut the head off more than her fair share with a handy shovel.
“No.” His hand didn’t move. “Just some friendly advice.” He smiled at her.
Used car salesman.
No, she’d met some really nice used car salesmen in her time.
Snake.
Another woman stepped into the elevator. She glanced at Givens. “Going down?”
He shook his head and finally removed his hand. “See you soon, ADA.”
Unfortunately, he would.
Fucking bastard.
Rage filled him as he watched the men and women in suits drift by.
He’d seen the way the lawyer looked at Erin. Greedy eyes. Knowing smile.
Fucking. Bastard.
Defending that piece of crap drug dealer. Standing all high and mighty in the courtroom like he was doing something special by being in front of the judge.
Like he was something special.
Then the guy had followed Erin. Whispered to her.
He’d caught a glimpse of Erin’s face. Seen the barely restrained anger. He knew his Erin well. She’d wanted to go after the dumb dick, claws out and teeth snapping, but she’d held back.
Because she knows I’m here and I’ll take care of things for her.
He loved to make his Erin happy.
Loved to see her smile…and the hint of her deceptively delicate fangs.
Finally. Home.
A yellow line of police tape barred her door, but Antonio had called Erin right before she left the office and said the place had the all clear.
Erin stared at the tape. She wanted nothing more than to go inside, kick off her shoes and fall into bed.
Little problem, though. Going inside meant she’d have to see the blood.
Cleanup was not really part of the cops’ usual routine.
So she’d be the scrubber who got to remove the dry blood from her wall.
And she’d have to stay in the house, knowing he’d been there. Maybe another night in the hotel wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Gonna stand out here all night, sweetheart?”