Even with a vampire loose in the city.
Normally, Jane worked nights. Since she was the cop on the paranormal beat, it paid to stay up when the monsters were out. But to learn information about Alan Thatcher, well, she intended to do her research on him during the day.
When I’m not as likely to run into a vamp again.
Jane tip-toed toward the door. She and Aidan hadn’t talked when they got to the apartment. They’d collapsed. Or rather, he’d collapsed. She’d huddled in the bed, the vamp’s words playing in her head again and again.
What had bothered her most…
I’m afraid he’s right. If I do change…what will Aidan do? What did she want him to do?
Jane opened the door and slipped outside.
There weren’t any werewolf guards waiting to tail her. She didn’t normally have a day shift of guards. Vamps weren’t out during the day—they were weaker during the sunlight hours. So her guards just kicked in when the sun set.
She hurried down the stairs, moving down to the first floor, and a few moments later, Jane was outside of the building. The streets gleamed, and she could see the heavy suds washing down the gutters. The street cleaners got out early in the city. Bourbon Street was their number one spot each day—she didn’t even want to think about the things they cleaned up there.
It wasn’t a long walk to the Voodoo Shop, even with a quick pit-stop.
Voodoo Shop. Simple name, straight to the point. A CLOSED sign hung in the window, but Jane didn’t let that stop her. She walked up the narrow porch—the shop had once been an old home, and actually, she still thought Annette Benoit had a place upstairs—and she knocked on the door. For good measure, Jane called out, “It’s the police! Let me in!”
And then she waited, her right shoe tapping against the wood beneath her. A few moments later, she heard the soft pad of footsteps rushing toward the door.
Her shoulders straightened.
The door opened with a squeak. Annette Benoit’s narrowed eyes swept over her. It was just a few hours past dawn, and it really didn’t seem fair that Annette looked so insanely gorgeous that early.
Annette’s soft chocolate cream skin glowed as if she’d just gotten a freaking facial. Her hair—long and perfectly straight—slid over her shoulders. Her deep set eyes showed no signs of sleepiness. Instead, her light brown gaze was curious as it slid over Jane.
“You’re still human,” Annette announced, as if surprised.
That couldn’t be good.
“Yeah,” Jane muttered as her hand lifted and she pushed the door open a bit more. Annette had only opened it a few inches. Not very welcoming. “We seriously need to talk…”
Annette’s lush lips pressed together. She looked over Jane’s shoulder—
“I came alone.”
Annette seemed to relax.
“I don’t really want an audience for this little meeting.”
Annette’s head tilted to the side as she studied Jane. “What is it that you do want?”
Jane lifted the bag of beignets that she held. Based on their previous meeting, she knew Annette had a weakness for them. “I want a reading, and I’m prepared to pay.”
Annette’s eyes gleamed. “A reading will cost more than a bag of beignets.”
“I figured as much. Like I said, I’m ready to pay. Name the price.”
“You really believe in my voodoo?”
After everything Jane had seen? “Name the price.” She pulled out some cash—
But Annette waved that away. “A few twenties won’t cover this.” She started nibbling on the beignets. “But a favor will. Agree that you owe me, Mary Jane Hart. Promise that you’ll pay the debt to me when I come calling.”
Annette could be so weird. “Fine. Whatever.” Jane looked over her shoulder. “Can we get off this porch already? You know there are too many eyes and ears in this town.”
The voodoo queen waved her inside.
And Jane quickly entered, then shut the door behind her.
***
Humans. He hated them. Hated their smug smiles and the stupid, useless waste that was their lives. They thought they were so superior—at the top of the fucking food chain.
But they had no clue.
He was the apex predator. The one that everyone should fear. Hell, they should freaking worship him. It was time the world understood that truth.
He flipped on the TV, ready to see the morning news. He knew the cops had found the little surprise he’d left in the cemetery. After all, he’d called and tipped them off. Told them that there was trouble on Ann Street and that a beat cop needed to get over there.
He’d even circled back and seen that wonderful swirl of blue lights a bit later on.
His kill had been found. Soon, everyone would know what was happening. They would know about his power, and there would be no denying the truth…
Werewolves were real.
He watched the news. Watched the stupid weatherman make small talk with the pretty, blond anchor. Watched while they talked about a mugging near the Riverwalk. Watched while school kids were shown singing in some stupid recital.