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But more cops had burst out of the darkness. EMTs were there, too. Hell, even three firefighters erupted from the trees, and he didn’t know when they’d arrived on scene.

“Drop the weapon!” A roar from one of the cops.

But she didn’t drop the weapon. She lifted it and took aim at the man on the ground. The man she’d shot twice already. The man who was not dead yet. Instead, he was…

Laughing.

“Drop the weapon!” Another roar from a cop.

“Don’t shoot her!” Jonah yelled back. “She’s the vic!” But she was about to fire. He could see it. Shit, shit, shit. She’d saved him. No way could he let her die now. Jonah threw his body at her.

They hit the ground.

And the perp’s laughter drifted in the air around him.

“He has to die.” Her voice. So soft. So broken. But determined. “Kill him.”

He levered up. Frowned at her. “I’m a cop. I’m arresting him. Not killing him.”

“Someone has to kill him.” Her lips trembled. “Please.”

“Ma’am—”

She went limp. Her eyes closed. She barely seemed to breathe. Jonah heard himself shouting for help over and over again.

Over.

And over.

Chapter One

“I need you to be normal.”

Hunter McQueen glanced up from the files on his desk, his brows arching as he stared at his best friend. Declan Flynn had come by to check out Hunter’s new office and to deliver a ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne as he celebrated Hunter’s new, uh, venture.

My PI business. Hunter had decided to hang up his own shingle. To get his hands dirty and bloody and to start taking cases that mattered to him. Why the hell not? He was good at investigation. At finding predators and tracking down those bastards. Ever since he’d started working with the Ice Breakers, he’d realized that he should be putting his particular skill set to use.

So…

The new digs. The big office in New Orleans. The agency that was his baby.

“Normal shall be our keyword,” Declan continued as he shut the door.

Ha. As if Declan had ever been normal a day in his life. Who was his buddy to judge?

“It’s going to be hard,” Declan warned him in the direst of tones. “Because you will be excited, and your first instinct will be to freak out.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Hunter. “When the hell have I ever freaked out?” He’d been in some of the most dangerous places on earth. He’d faced off against twisted perps. And, no matter what, he remained calm. He remained cool. He remained lethal. Freaking out was not in his nature.

But Declan appeared worried. And Declan never worried. “I want you to take a deep breath for me.”

Uh, sure. He’d play along. Hunter leaned back in his new leather chair, and he took a deep breath. A big inhale, then a long exhale. “Happy?”

“Your dream woman is waiting in your fancy, new lobby.” Declan plunked down the champagne on Hunter’s desk.

He squinted at Declan. “Are you drunk?” Not likely. Declan tended to never drink to⁠—

“Humor me.” A pause. “Who is your dream woman, Hunter?”