"Lots of them, as I said."
"How quaint that you're afraid of something so small."
"We all have an Achilles' heel. Spiders just happen to be mine."
Something glimmered in her eyes. Something that could have been humor but felt like something far darker. "Oh, you have more than just spiders, my dear."
I found myself clenching the phone so tight, I was in danger of cracking the case. "What weakens can also give you strength. You might want to remember that sometime."
"My, my," she murmured. "Aren't we all aggressive this afternoon? I wonder why."
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Talking to uncooperative vampires tends to do that to me."
"I gather you mean those who run Hallowed Ground rather than myself?"
"Of course." I kept my voice flat, without inflection. To have done anything else would have been dangerous. "I didn't learn much, but I did get a picture of our suspect."
"So she is the one we're after?"
"Hard to tell, because she was using some sort of shield that stopped Azriel sensing what she was. But given she had a boatload of spiders sitting in her dressing room, I think it likely."
"So she left nothing behind other than the spiders?"
"No." I hesitated. "But she's killed two nights in a row, so I'd bet she'll attempt to do so again tonight."
"More than likely." Hunter studied me, a deeper darkness creeping into her eyes. "I believe you talked to Stanford, despite my warning not to."
I shivered, wondering how she'd known. The bartender, perhaps? Then I remembered—I had a damn Cazador following me around, reporting every little move back to her. "I had no choice. The owner wasn't there and the bartender didn't know anything."