Page 114

“His body count begs to differ,” I scoffed icily.

But my shot failed to land; I’d gotten Sharon once, and she’d built up her armor. Her unyielding love for her son shone in her eyes. She didn’t bother to reply, just kept staring at me.

Though I thought I had the upper hand, that I was the righteous human and she was the lying beast, I began to squirm internally under her gaze, the hospital bed a blazing inferno in the corner of my vision. The man, the innocent man—who apparently was an innocent werewolf too—lying in a bed, dying because of this witch. This witch who was responsible for all these murders and the curse on Colton. For my parents’ deaths.

Hatred, as it happened, was easily rerouted, mine aiming toward the elusive witch. Though I still wasn’t exactly feeling warm and fuzzy toward Colton. I wasn’t that good of a person. Even there in the hospital, my stomach churned with the expectation of hearing heavy, measured steps coming toward the door.

Colton wouldn’t let his father wither away in a hospital bed for long before coming to keep vigil. I could not face him right then, even after discovering that he wasn’t guilty. Technically. But technically, it was his hands—claws—that had torn apart my parents’ organs in front of me.

And even if he didn’t recall turning into a wolf and killing people—of eating people—he remembered waking up in the woods after each murder. Colton was more than smart enough to put two and two together. Even if he didn’t come to the right conclusion, he must’ve suspected that he was somehow involved in all of those murders.

Therefore, he was not wholly innocent. Which meant that I didn’t trust myself not to shoot him in the face.

Fuck, even trying to weigh out his guilt gave me a headache. Focusing on the truly evil character in this story—a witch who had sold her soul to a demon and was cursing people left, right, and center—was a good plan.

Colton could wait. Until after I’d killed the witch. If I were still alive.

I planted my cold gaze on Sharon. “I’ll do your dirty work. Me. A human. When you, literal wolves, couldn’t do it. And if I die, it’ll be on your hands, just like the blood of my parents.”

She flinched as I pierced her with a wrath she didn’t entirely deserve.

I didn’t wait for a response, just hightailed it out of there. I had witches to kill. Hopefully, my own demons would finally die too.

Once again, I didn’t make it to my intended destination.

Ain’t no rest for the wicked and all that.

Shay called me while I was pulling out of the hospital parking lot, telling me that she had information about the latest kill that she thought I’d find interesting.

I couldn’t very well tell her that I had all the information I needed to know about the latest kill since I’d been the first one on the scene. Nor could I tell her that I was busy hunting a demon-blessed witch on a time limit, or that the man who considered himself my second father was going to die.

There were a million and one ways I could brush her off, considering I wasn’t known for my manners, there was a witch to find, and a demon prince to banish back to hell.

But if things went the way I hoped they might that night, I wouldn’t be seeing her again. Which didn’t throw me as one might’ve expected. I’d actually come to like Shay. Had come to enjoy her company. I felt a pull to be in her company one last time, to pretend I had a friend. I knew that I was closing in; I could taste the blood on my lips. My own, most likely. Whatever it was, I could sense that my time in my hometown was limited.

It would likely be the last time I’d see Shay. A quick stop to say goodbye wouldn’t kill me.

DANTE

I wasn’t surprised to find a pickup in the driveway when I pulled up to Hadley’s house, nor Colton leaning against it.

His icy glare at my arrival was not a surprise either. He didn’t like me, that much was clear. Because he saw that I was familiar with the woman he’d never truly know. Because he’d always try to force her to be the girl he remembered. Though that girl was long dead.

She’d died right there in that house, by his claws—though he didn’t know he had them yet, nor that they were covered with the blood of innocents.

I liked Hadley how she was. Exactly as she was. Down to the freckles on her collarbone and the snarl in her smile.

“Officer.” I tipped an imaginary hat as I got off my bike, retrieving the bottle Hadley had requested.

Colton pushed off the truck, getting in my way as I walked toward the front door. Also not surprising, but man, if I didn’t want this guy to deviate from cliché just a little. Keep things interesting.

“She’s not in there,” he told me, folding his arms.

“Lack of her car in the driveway was a dead giveaway,” I snorted. “I’ll wait inside.”

“It’s locked.” He didn’t move. He had assumed the cop stance—otherwise known as the masculine fight stance.

Aggression wafted off him like fucking heat. I could feel it coating me. He’d wanted to punch my face in since the moment he first saw me with Hadley. But he was an honorable man, so he’d never do it without justification.