"When was the last time you slept properly?"
Ethan didn't answer. Didn't need to.
"And when was the last time you ate a decent meal?"
"Cap, they have nothing to do with my ability — "
"They have everything to do with it. You're running on anger, Morgan, 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."
He put on his jacket and pushed past the paramedic and captain.
"Morgan?"
He hesitated and looked over his shoulder.
"Leave. No choice. I catch your ass in the area again, and it'll be locked 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 pocket and tried to ignore the moon-spun fever. He didn't have time to quench 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 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 ash impression.
Mark Baker, 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."
"Yeah. And made a mess of the warehouse, too." Mark looked up. "By your reckoning, you were only unconscious for three or 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 went on here."
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 in hell it was before it burned. He'd hit the thing with every ounce of strength he'd had. No human could have stood up to those blows. He knew that for a fact.
"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 onto hope just that little bit longer —
however false he knew it to be.