Drew attacked. He yanked up that shard of mirror and drove it into the man’s stomach. Once in his stomach.
Then one long slice across the guard’s throat. The better to stop any screams.
“I take care of myself,” Drew muttered. “Always.” Then he reached for the keys on the guard’s belt.
It was time for him to get the hell out of there, before Mary Jane came back with her alpha lover.
He couldn’t trust her, not anymore.
She’d changed. Now…
You’re one of them, Mary Jane.
And that broke his heart.
***
Aidan kicked open the door of the apartment that sat on the edge of the French Quarter. The place was on the second floor of one of the historic homes that dotted the area. The place had been updated, so that while the outside of the building spoke of its age, the interior was hipster trendy. He and two of his pack members rushed inside, even though he already knew…
The apartment is empty. He hadn’t been able to pick up any sounds from the apartment as he’d climbed up the stairs, so he knew his prey wasn’t waiting for him.
But this was the place that the video camera in that damn god-forsaken alley had been transmitting to—a laptop was still up, still sitting on a desk and a cup of coffee was even perched beside it. Aidan’s pack techs had traced the signal right to this location, and Aidan had closed in for the hunt.
Garrison strode forward and touched the mug. “Still warm,” he murmured. His red head tilted as he stared at the open laptop. “And the computer is still on. Looks as if someone was trying to delete files.”
Files…video footage? “We’ll take it to our techs.” They could retrieve the files, he had no doubt about that.
Paris began to prowl around the apartment. Aidan had picked Garrison and Paris to accompany him on this hunt…mostly because it was particularly personal and he trusted those two the most. Garrison might be reckless, but Aidan knew pack always came first for the guy.
“Fancy place,” Paris murmured. “The guy who was here has money.”
The guy liked lots of leather and big screen TVs and tech. Plenty of tech. The laptop wasn’t the only computer in the place. There were plenty of monitors and desktops. And…cameras.
Aidan had pulled strings and gotten the name of the guy who supposedly had been renting the apartment. John Smith. A bullshit name? Oh, he was fucking sure it was. And the fact that the guy had been paying in cash…You were trying to cover your tracks.
But when a werewolf was hunting, it was impossible to cover those tracks completely.
“There’s no scent here,” Paris announced, a frown pulling his lips down. “Humans always leave scents.”
“I don’t think we’re dealing with an average human,” Aidan said. If only it were that easy. “The guy knew what Jane was. He sent out his bait to lure her in, and he just watched while she was ambushed.” Which fucking pissed him off. The guy had been watching while Jane had fought for her life. He nodded toward Garrison. “Search the place. Every inch of it, got me?” Because maybe the watcher had been smart enough to cover his scent, but he might have been dumb enough to leave some other clue behind. A clue that cops—human cops—might overlook.
But a clue that werewolves wouldn’t miss.
“Yes, sir.” Garrison sprang to attention. The guy almost saluted. Jeez. Aidan barely contained an eye roll as Garrison hurried toward the hallway.
“He’s…improving,” Paris allowed.
Aidan just raised his brows. Garrison had been trouble from the start but…Aidan understood the guy. No, he felt responsible for him. Garrison’s parents had been killed by a vampire—by the same bastard who had murdered Jane’s mother and her step-father. Aidan had arrived too late to help Garrison’s family, but he had been able to carry the guy—just a kid back then—out of that blood bath.
And I’ve been watching out for him ever since. Yeah, Garrison could be a pain in the ass but…
He’s pack. Pack is family. Pack is life.
“About earlier…” Paris began, his voice a bit stilted.
Someone save me. Aidan’s brows shot up. “You aren’t about to pull some sentimental BS are you?”
Paris rolled one shoulder. “Just going to say that you’re a dick most days, but I’d still hate to see anything bad happen to you.”
“Jane isn’t anything bad.” Now he was getting angry. He was—his phone rang, stopping him before he could say more. Aidan pulled the phone from his pocket and saw Jane’s face on the screen.
“Speak of the devil,” Paris murmured.
Aidan’s eyes turned to slits. Don’t keep pushing, Paris.
Paris coughed. “I’ll just…” He pointed down the hallway. “I’ll go and help Garrison. You know, search for clues. We’ll Scooby Doo the shit out of this place.”
Aidan growled as his friend retreated. Then he turned his back and put the phone to his ear. “Jane? What’s wrong?”