“Who is this?” Colin demanded, his knuckles whitening around the phone.
“You know who I am.”
“No, I don’t. So why don’t you just—”
“The press calls me the Night Butcher, but as you’ve seen, I don’t just hunt at night.” He laughed, a grating sound that sent a shiver down Emily’s back.
“Ask the bastard about Smith,” McNeal ordered.
“I want to talk to Smith,” Colin snapped.
“Ah, yes, I figured you would. Good thing I haven’t ripped her throat out, yet. It would make talking so hard.”
A woman’s scream echoed across the line.
Smith.
“M-McNeal, h-help—” A pain-filled moan broke her words.
More laughter. And dead silence from Smith.
Emily swallowed.
The officers gathered around her were pale, their faces tight with concentration.
But Colin…he had rage in his eyes. So much rage. The beast wants out.
“What the f**k do you want, Butcher?”
Silence. Too long. Too thick.
Colin gritted his teeth. “Dammit—”
“I have the wrong doctor.”
Emily’s blood froze.
Colin’s gaze shot to hers.
“I want the other one.”
His stare never left her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bastard, but—”
“She’s in front of you, isn’t she? Pretty little Doctor Drake. She’s rather extraordinary. Knows so much about…our kind.”
McNeal swore.
“I’ll offer you a deal, Detective. Smith for Dr. Drake. An even trade.”
And she saw Colin’s control snap. “Fuck, no, you sonofa—”
Emily shot to her feet. Punched the button for the phone’s intercom so she could speak. “Tell me where and when.” No way was she going to sit back and let Smith die. Not if there was a chance they could save her.
A beat of silence, then, “Dr. Drake.” He purred the words. As much as a robot could purr. “I had a feeling you were there.”
So the ass**le got bonus points for being right. “Don’t hurt Smith,” she ordered, her voice flat and cold. “Tell me where to be, and I’ll make the trade.”
Colin was shaking his head. His hand flashed out, locked around her wrist. “No damn way.”
Emily lifted her chin. “Tell me where,” she repeated.
“Warehouse district. Building 13. You come alone, Doctor. All alone. If I so much as smell a cop, you’ll be swimming in Smith’s blood.”
She believed him.
“Midnight, Dr. Drake. I’ll see you then.” The hum of a dial tone resonated from the phone.
Emily exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Colin stared down at her, his face an iron mask. “You’re not going.” An order. One that he fully expected to be obeyed.
“If I don’t, she’s dead.” And she couldn’t have Smith’s death on her conscience.
“In my office, now. ” McNeal stormed ahead of them, not glancing back to see if he was obeyed.
Colin dragged Emily with him, keeping his tight grip on her wrist. He jerked her inside, slamming the door behind them.
“What the f**k were you thinking?” he snarled. “You do not, do not, ever interfere in my investigation like that again, do you—”
“I did what I had to do.” Smith’s life was on the line. There’d been no choice. “Tell me, Colin, if he’d offered to trade her for you, what would you have done?”
His clenched jaw was her answer.
“I’ve got to help her. If I don’t, he’ll kill her.” Rip out her throat, just as he’d done to the others.
“When you walk into that warehouse, he’ll kill you,” he gritted. He yanked her closer to him, pressing his body against hers, flesh to flesh. His heat wrapped around her, his fury hovered in the air surrounding them. “You think I’m just gonna stand by and let that happen?” He kissed her hard, his lips bruising and hot. “No f**king way. I just found you. I’m not about to lose you now.”
Her breath caught. “Colin…”
“If you two are done, we need to figure out just what the hell our next move is gonna be,” McNeal growled, slamming his fist against the desk.
Emily jerked. She’d almost forgotten about him.
“This guy’s a shifter, so when he said he could smell a cop, I know the bastard meant it.” His lips thinned. “So how are we supposed to get backup in there without him going crazy and killing Smith?”
Emily glanced up at Colin. There might be a way…
“I’ll shift,” Colin muttered. “He’ll smell animal, not man.”
McNeal’s eyes narrowed. “Shift.” He whistled. “So you’re one of them.” A pause. “I knew you were Other, but I didn’t realize—
”
McNeal broke off, shaking his head. “A shifter.”
If he only knew the full story, Emily thought.
“I’ll follow Emily, track her into the warehouse.” His hand tightened around her wrist. “And I’ll catch the bastard.”
McNeal cast a brief glance toward Emily. “Give us a minute, would you, Emily?”
She nodded, aware of a new tension in the room. She stepped forward, but Colin’s hold didn’t budge.
“Colin…”
He swallowed. Slowly, his fingers uncurled. Lifted. His eyes were burning with emotion and the faintest hint of fang gleamed behind his lips.
Emily lifted her hand, stroked his cheek. “It’s going to be all right.” She said the words, not certain if she meant them, just wanting to ease the fear she could see lurking in his gaze.
He turned his face. Pressed his lips against her palm.
The mark on her neck seemed to throb.
“I-I’ll be right outside.” Getting ready to face a killer. Trying to stop her knees from knocking together.
Pretending that she was brave when really she was so scared she thought she’d vomit.
Oh God. What if she couldn’t stop him from killing Smith?
Or from killing her?
Emily pulled away from Colin and hurried out of the office, fighting the fear that pummeled her.
He wanted to take his mate away. Wanted to toss her over his shoulder and carry her far away. To someplace safe.
A place without psychotic killers. A place quiet, peaceful. A place where he could put her in a big, nice bed and make love to her for hours.