The scent of one of them was familiar, even though he was a stranger. And the connection that was made instantaneously in her mind was terrifying.
Boone snapped to attention. “Helania? What’s—”
She pointed at the tall male on the left, the one with a Mohawk, and yelled, “You! It was you!”
* * *
Butch was all up in his head as he headed down to the training center’s office. Anytime Janie came up, in any situation, he always got rattled a little. But there was more to it than that. Somehow, staring into Helania’s yellow eyes, as she had put her faith in him with the same trust he put in his God, had rocked him to his soul.
You treat every victim like it’s your sister, don’t you. And every perpetrator like it’s her murderer.
On one level, it wasn’t that tough an extrapolation. Hello. Childhood trauma affecting the adult course of life? Particularly as it motivated said individual to get what had gone wrong in their own past right in the futures of others? Not exactly Einstein material. But still, to hear Helania spell it out like that?
Wow, did it make him want a Scotch. Or fifteen.
But the urge for a drink, and not in a cocktail kind of way, was not something he was going to act on. Using alcohol as an emotional eraser was part of his old way of life, and he’d be damned if he was going to fall back into that shit for even a night—
“—it was you!”
Butch pulled up short and turned around. Down by the weight room, Helania was advancing on two members of the Band of Bastards, her finger pointed in accusation, her body trembling.
As Balthazar and Syn likewise pulled a pivot at the shout, Boone jumped in between them and the female, holding his arms out to prevent Helania from getting too close.
With a curse, Butch instinctively reached for the autoloader he had holstered at his hip, but he kept the gun down by his thigh as he jogged back to the drama.
“What’s going on here?” he said evenly, slipping into cop-mode.
A quick glance at the two Bastards, and it appeared as if an attack from them was unlikely. Balthazar was looking confused, nothing but WTF on his face. And as for Syn?
“He killed the female! He killed my sister!”
Helania was talking fast but clearly, and that finger pointing at Syn was a lineup ID like you read about. And the Bastard’s reaction was interesting—because there was none. The warrior just stared down at the female, nothing changing in his face, his eyes, his stance.
“You were with that murdered female at the club!” Helania said. “I scented you then. You were the one who took her down to the lower level. And when I went down there after I smelled the blood, your scent was in the air! It was you!”
Syn continued to play the Sphinx card, his features remaining composed, almost bored. But Balthazar? The Bastard was now looking at his comrade with anger . . . as if maybe, just maybe, he had been through this before with the guy.
Butch glanced at Boone. “Do me a favor, take her back to the room we were in? I want to talk to Syn—”
“He did it!” Helania lunged at the male, but Boone held her in place. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!”
Butch stepped up to the female, and as he got her attention, he lowered his voice. “I believe you. I believe that you saw him with the female who was killed. I believe that you tracked him down to the lower level. Right now, I need you to let me speak with him, okay? And then I want to talk more with you.”
Helania was breathing heavily, her face white, her eyes wide. But to her credit, she calmed herself down.
“Don’t let him go,” she said harshly. “Don’t you dare let him go.”
“I won’t. I swear. On my Janie.”
Helania looked at Boone. After a tense moment, she let the male lead her away, the two of them walking off toward the interrogation room. She glared over her shoulder the entire time, and even after that door was shut, Butch could swear that he felt her accusing eyes through the fucking concrete.
Butch turned back to the Bastards. He found it curious that Balthazar had stepped in close to his comrade, like he was worried that the other male might do something stupid. But like there was anywhere to run to?