Better Off Undead - Cynthia Eden Page 0,14

“Why you?” She would find out. That was her job. To give justice to the victims. That was why she’d wanted to become a homicide detective in the first place. Sadness filled her as she stared at all of his wounds. “This sure looks like a whole lot of rage to me.”

Dr. Bob gave a grunting sound of agreement. “Seems to me as if the perp didn’t just want to kill the vic…the attacker wanted to destroy him completely.”

“Disfigure him,” she whispered. Alan had been so handsome. Before. “A whole lot of rage,” she said again. “And maybe hate.” Jane rubbed the back of her neck. “Run every blood analysis and test that you can think of on the guy, okay? If he was special to the killer, maybe there was a reason why. Something that we don’t see, not yet.” And while he did that, Jane would learn every detail she could about Alan Thatcher’s personal life.

She turned and headed for the door.

“Are you…all right, Jane?”

Dr. Bob’s question made her pause. A wry smile curled her lips as she looked back at him. “You sound worried about me.”

He puffed up his chest. “No. Not at all.”

She waited.

His chest deflated. “You’re human.”

Not according to Aidan.

“You have to be careful in their world. I’m in it only as little as I can be.”

He was warning her. That was almost cute. “And here I didn’t think you cared.”

No humor glinted in his eyes. “They use humans. We do their dirty work.” His stare trekked to the body on the slab. “We clean up their messes.”

“This isn’t a mess. It’s a man’s life. And I will find his killer.”

“Even if that killer is in Aidan’s pack? Because he controls all the werewolves in the city. Once word gets out that a wolf did this…” He exhaled. “Those two outside probably already heard us. You know wolves have that freakish hearing.”

Jane just shook her head.

“They’re probably calling him right now—”

Okay, he might be right on that point. She shoved open the door and strode into the hallway. Sure enough, her guards were there. Garrison was easy to spot with his messy mop of bright red hair. The guy was generally her lead guard. Mostly because he’d sworn some blood oath to protect her after she’d saved his ass. Only he was currently on his phone, hunched over and—

Jane grabbed the phone from him. “Aidan? Yeah, it’s me. And what Garrison was trying to tell you is true.” She glared at Garrison. Seriously, I wasn’t even done with Dr. Bob. “We’ve got a werewolf killing in the city. And we need to stop him.”

***

Jane strode down the New Orleans street, her steps fast and angry. She could hear her guards behind her. Keeping their careful distance. Was this really supposed to be her life? Constant guards? Aidan needed to back off with this shit. She was—

A sharp cry sounded behind her. Jane whirled around. Her blond guard was on the ground, unconscious. A street lamp’s light fell on him, clearly showing his slumped form.

“Jane, run!” That was Garrison’s yell. Her head whipped toward him. Garrison’s claws were out and he was facing off against a shadowy figure. “Get out of here!”

The figure lunged for Garrison. The shadow picked up Garrison and held him at least a foot in the air, like the werewolf was some kind of rag doll.

“Stop!” Jane yelled. She yanked out her gun. “Let him go!”

The figure threw Garrison. The redheaded werewolf hit the lamp post with a hard thud. He didn’t get back up.

And the shadow turned to face Jane.

She kept her gun up and aimed right at his heart.

He stepped toward her and illumination from a nearby street lamp hit his face. Not the face of some hideous monster, but a man. Strong features. Sensual lips. A small cleft in his chin. Thick hair. Intense eyes.

“Hello, Mary Jane. I’ve been looking for you, for a very long time.” He took another step toward her.

“Move again, and I will shoot.” Both of her guards were unconscious. And this joker—he thought he was just going to stride right up to her?

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Right. You’re just here to hurt the two guys who were with me.”

He shrugged. “They were following you. I was afraid they meant you harm.”

His voice held no accent, and he had a deep, rumbly tone. Rather like Aidan’s.

The guy was about Aidan’s height, his shoulders were almost as broad, but he didn’t carry the raw, animalistic