"He’s here."
"What?"
"The killer. He’s still in the building. Or he was…just a moment ago."
His fingers tightened around her. "How do you know? Did you see something?"
"I heard him."
Colin frowned, and Emily realized that her words probably weren’t making much sense. But they were wasting time and she had to hurry.
"I lowered my shielding, okay?" Her voice was a whisper. "I wanted to see if I could sense anything about the killing and I–I sensed him. Heard his thoughts. Colin, he was here, just seconds ago."
He reached for his gun. "You still hear ’im?"
Emily bit her lip. "His voice stopped. When you called my name."
"Probably because the bastard realized you were here and that you could track him."
Yes, but how had a shifter known that?
Colin raised his voice, calling out to the cops. "I want a lockdown on this building. Round up every single employee. Put them all in one room."
"It might not be one of the employees," Emily said, leaning in close to him. "Colin, the killer could be a cop."
He swore.
"I–I need to go over every inch of this building, see if I can find him."
He clamped his hand around her wrist. "You’re not goin’ anywhere without me, Doc."
His gun was drawn, ready. "Now let’s go find the bastard."
But they didn’t find him. They searched the entire station, roof to basement. Emily saw every employee, studied every cop, but she couldn’t find the killer.
The only Other she saw were Colin, the young charmer cop, and Jake Donnelley. And none of those men had the right magic trail to match the killer.
He’d gotten away. Somehow, he’d managed to slip past the police and escape.
Dammit.
They were back in Darla’s office. Her body had been covered by a sheet, and two men pushing a gurney were entering the room.
Emily pulled off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose. She’d been so close, and that bastard had gotten away.
"Crime scenes can be hard, can’t they?"
She jerked at the soft voice, so close to her back. Emily turned around, found Smith staring at her with sympathy in her dark eyes. "Umm, yeah, they can be." Anything that involved a dead, bloody body automatically fell under "hard" in her book.
"I saw you run out earlier." Smith hesitated. "Are you all right?"
Emily realized what her sudden fast and furious departure must have looked like.
The profiler couldn’t handle the crime scene.
But it wasn’t like she could tell Smith the truth. So she forced a smile. "I’m fine now." Actually, she was furious. The murdering bastard had gotten away from her. If she’d had just a few more minutes to track him-
"My first few scenes made me sick. I mean, I’d been in medical school, and I’d seen dead bodies before." Smith shook her head. "But seeing a person like this, a person who fought to live just hours ago…" She sighed. "It’s hard to get used to."
Emily wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to seeing bodies that had been savaged like Darla’s.
"Why don’t you go on home?" Smith suggested. "It’s late, and there can’t be much else you can do here tonight."
No, there wasn’t anything else she could do. The killer was gone, the reporter was dead, and she was left with the twisted flow of the Night Butcher’s rage sliding through her mind.
"Good idea," she muttered. "Tell Colin I left, will you?" Cause she didn’t want to face him again just then. After they’d finished searching, he’d looked at her with…damn, had that been doubt in his eyes?
Did the man think she’d made up the story about hearing the killer?
Hell, she really did need to get out of there. Needed to clear her head.
And try to stop hearing the killer’s voice replaying in her mind.
Maybe next time I’ll try a cop.
Her hands fisted. Maybe next time I’ll catch you first, you sonofabitch.
"Hey, Gyth! There’s a guy here who says he has to talk to you."
Colin glanced up from Darla’s desk. Saw Jake Donnelley peering over a uniform’s shoulder.
"Who’s that?" Brooks asked, straightening to better study him.
"Darla’s cameraman."
"Think he knows something?"
"One way to find out." He shoved to his feet, stalked over to meet the demon.
"W-we need to talk." Jake was sweating.
"Sure." Colin stepped into the hallway. The area had cleared out a lot in the last hour. Even as he spoke, Darla’s body was wheeled out.
Jake looked at the body bag, gulped, then hurriedly glanced away.
"What do you know, Donnelley? Did you see something? The killer?" If only he could be that lucky.
Jake shook his head. "Didn’t see anything. But you need to know-" He broke off as a female cop passed them. Lowering his voice, he continued, "You need to know what Darla was working on."
"Oh?" His interest was caught but he played it cool and easy. "And what story was she investigating?"
Jake met his gaze. "Dr. Drake."
Do you still see demons? Colin kept his face expressionless. "What about her?"
"Darla found out that Dr. Drake was sent to one of them psych wards when she was a kid."
I never said I worked there.
Shit. "She was going to run the story, wasn’t she?"
Jake nodded.
"And is this the only story Darla was working on?" Please, let there be something else.
"Other than the robbery at Southern Bank, yeah."
Not good. "You told anybody else about this?"
Jake shook his head. "Not gonna either." His face tightened. "We both know why the doctor got sent to that place. And we know she wasn’t seeing things."
He could all too easily imagine Emily as a child, seeing demons and monsters wherever she turned. Yeah, he knew why she’d wound up at Serenity Woods.
"All right, Donnelley. Thanks for the tip."
The cameraman shuffled off down the hallway.
Colin watched him for a moment, then turned back to the crime scene. He needed to find Emily. His gaze searched the room.
Where is she?
"Hey!" Brooks stepped forward. "What’d the guy have to say?"
Colin shrugged. "Nothing really." He met his partner’s stare straight on. Lying wasn’t hard for him. He’d been doing it his whole life. "Just that Darla was working on a bank robbery story before she was killed."
"Really?" Brooks’s eyes narrowed. "That was all he said?"
"Yeah." Emily wasn’t in the room. "Where’s Dr. Drake?"
Smith brushed by him, paused. "She left about twenty minutes ago. Said she’d check in at the station tomorrow."
His stomach clenched. It was okay. The doc knew how to take care of herself. So she’d gone home alone. No big deal.
Except he was sure someone had been watching her house. Watching her.
And she’d just tapped into a killer’s mind.
Probably no need to worry-ah, bullshit. "Can you finish things here?" he asked Brooks.
"Uh, yeah. There are just a few more interviews-"
"Good." The word had barely passed his lips before he marched out of the room, moving faster, faster with each step.
His gut was tight, and his instincts were screaming at him.
Something was wrong. He had to get to Emily.
All of the lights were out. Emily sat in her car, staring up at her house. She’d left the light in the den on; she always did. But the house was dark. Too dark.
The bulb could have blown. She hadn’t changed it in a few weeks-or, hell, she really couldn’t remember the last time she’d changed it.
Emily climbed slowly out of the car. Just because the house was dark, it didn’t mean anything. She was jumpy because of the crime scene. Seeing a woman with her throat ripped out would make anyone a bit uncertain.
She pulled out her cell phone as she walked up the steps. Gripped her keys in her right hand. Her heart was racing, the drumming shaking her chest all because her light was out.