He took a step forward, intending to follow her but then those station doors opened wide one more time.
The reporters pretty much turned at once as they focused on Police Captain Vivian Harris. The prey I intended to find this morning. Before he’d gotten distracted by the sight of a too-normal Detective Hart.
Harris waved her hand toward the reporters. “I have another statement to offer regarding our ongoing investigation into the murders of two area men in the St. Louis cemetery…”
She’s distracting them so that Detective Hart can slip away. No one else had even seemed to notice the dark-haired detective.
He should give chase. He should—
“The coward who is killing in our streets will be stopped. We have new leads that have developed—”
He didn’t hear the rest of what she’d just said. Coward. Coward. His hands fisted. His claws itched to spring out. He would show her a fucking coward. A growl built in his throat as he focused his fury on his prey.
Vivian Harris.
His next victim. I’ve got the perfect cemetery spot already picked out for you.
***
Aidan knocked once on the door of the Voodoo Shop. He could hear movement from inside, and he knew that Annette was in there. He didn’t hear anyone else, though, so he figured she wasn’t with a customer. A good thing because he needed to talk to her, right the hell then.
The door opened. Annette lifted her brows at him. “Alpha, it’s only been a few hours. Did you miss me?”
He growled.
“Always growling. So not sexy.” She sighed and motioned him inside. “Never can just come for a friendly little visit, can you?”
“Are we friends?” Now he was genuinely curious.
“I have no clue.” She turned and headed into her private room in the back. He followed and, once inside, his gaze fell on her black scrying mirror.
“It’s showing me nothing today,” Annette announced glumly. “And I’ve looked. Over and over, I looked.”
His fingers rubbed at the ache in the back of his neck. “You were right.”
Surprise flashed on her face. “Want to admit that again? A lot louder? And maybe wait until I can grab my phone and record this important moment?”
He exhaled on a rough sigh. “Jane’s…different. Stronger. Her senses are sharper. My blood did something to her.” His hand fell back to his side. “I came to you because I need to know how long that something will last.”
Her fingers tapped over her mirror. “I told you, I’m seeing nothing in here today. I keep trying to call up Jane’s future, but nothing is there.”
A chill skated down Aidan’s spine.
“Maybe I’m just tired,” she muttered. “Some alpha and his goon, Paris, did keep me up all night. I’ll rest a bit and try again later.” Before he could speak, she lifted her hand. “If I see anything, you’ll be the first to know about it.”
“Thank you.” But he still hesitated. “The vampire—Vincent—he just appears and disappears at will. And I don’t catch his scent, not until it’s too late.”
“I’m not helping him,” she said immediately, as if he’d just accused her.
“No, I didn’t think that you were but…” And this was nagging at him. “It’s not like you’re the only one who can work magic in the world.”
Her expression was guarded “You think he has his own voodoo queen?”
“Doesn’t have to be Voodoo. Could be a witch. Could be a demon.”
Fear flashed in her eyes. “I’ve thought the same thing.”
“A whole lot exists in this world. We’re just scratching the surface, you and I both know it.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “Have you felt a surge of magic in this city? Since he’s been here?” If so, that would sure give credence to the idea that someone might be helping the vamp. Hell, someone had to be working spells around him. Vamps didn’t just…vanish.
But how old is he? The oldest vamp Aidan had ever encountered had been two hundred.
“I…looked in my mirror yesterday, to see more about him,” Annette confessed.
She didn’t add more.
“And?” he prompted. Come on, Annette, don’t hold back.
She licked her lower lip. “I saw him on a Viking ship. His hair was long, braided, and he had a…a big ax in his hand.”
“You’re telling me this guy was a Viking? How do you even know you saw the right vamp? You haven’t met Vincent—or I thought you hadn’t and—”
“I know it was him. Big, your size. Dark hair. Square jaw. Broken nose, a little hawkish. High cheeks. Even has a little dimple in his chin.”
Okay, fuck, that sounded like Vincent. She’d noticed details about the guy he hadn’t even thought of, not until she’d spoken. Because I was focusing on not killing him, and not staring at his damn face.
“After he attacked Garrison, Paris brought me some of the vamp’s blood. Seems Jane shot him and a few drops were at the scene. I used those to see his past.”