The man turned to look at me, his heavy bulldog’s face creased in a scowl. “What do you want?”
Heart pounding, I returned his stare.
Our suspect.
The murderer.
I could feel it, just like I’d suspected I might.
The Devil gripped the back of the man’s neck. “Look at me.”
The man flailed in his grasp. he Devil’s knuckles whitened, and the bastard stilled.
The bartender took a hasty step back, moving away from the confrontation.
I didn’t blame him. The Devil looked so ruthless that even I didn’t want to be near him right now, and he was on my side.
“Tell me about the murders you committed,” the Devil said.
“Where is the abducted person?” I cut in. I was desperate to know about Beatrix—but there was a living person’s life on the line. They had to come first.
The Devil tightened his hold on the man. “Answer her.”
“I have no idea what—”
“Answer truthfully.” The Devil’s voice lowered, and magic sparked in the air around
him.
“It was a job, all right?” The words seemed torn from the man. “Just a job I was paid for.”
As we’d thought—he wasn’t the mastermind. Helpless rage twisted inside me at the idea that another person was out there, and that Beatrix’s murder had been just a job.
“Murder isn’t just a job,” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud.
“It is for me.”
“Where is the person you abducted?” I demanded.
“I don’t know!”
“It’s the truth.” The Devil’s voice was grim.
No. I couldn’t accept that. “Where do you think they are? Any clues? Anything at all.”
“I don’t know. The client mentioned something about a church.”
Just like the Devil had said. Flares of dark magic coming from different churches. “Which church?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care about churches, so I didn’t recognize it.”
“You’ve been there?” I asked.
“What if I have?”
“Where was it?”
“Somewhere in the city. Maybe near Fleet Street. Don’t know exactly. The client’s guys took me there to meet him, but I was blindfolded.”