Circle of Desire (Damask Circle 3)

“Because the woman claims there was.”

“From what I saw, that woman isn’t exactly sane.” Refusing to run after he’d pulled that man off her, then knocking him unconscious? What sort of stupidity was that?

Benton snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. She and her grandmother are the oddest pair you’re ever likely to meet.”

And meeting them was next on his priority list—as much as the captain was likely to disapprove. He crossed his arms. “They’re certainly not cops, so why the hell are they on this investigation?”

“Pressure from higher up.” Benton shrugged. “I’m not happy about it, but I’ve got no choice. And they did save the kid tonight. You have to give them that.”

Yeah, but there was no guarantee tonight was connected to the other kidnappings … murders. The word sat like a dead weight in his gut. He rubbed a hand across his jaw and caught a scent that reminded him of summer rain. The woman. Even though he’d barely touched her, her fragrance branded his skin. His pulse quickened and lust rose, as hot as anger.

He took a deep breath, battling for control. Damn the moon’s rising! It couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Are they FBI?” He wouldn’t have thought so—not with the way the woman had acted in the warehouse.

“No, they’re psychics. Working for an organization known as the Damask Circle.”

“Psychics?” Scorn edged his words. Such mumbo jumbo was not what this case needed right now. “The press are having a field day already. What are they going to do if they discover we’ve resorted to psychics?”

The captain sighed. “I know. But as I said, I don’t have a choice on this one. Besides, I’ll use whatever—and whomever—I can to stop the bastard doing this.”

Amen to that. Ethan grabbed his jacket and stood up. “You mind if I go talk with Mark for a few minutes?”

“Like it’s going to make any difference if I say no.” Benton unwrapped another stick of gum and shoved it in his mouth. “But a few minutes is all you’re getting, then I want your ass out of here. As of tonight, you’re on leave.”

This time it was anger that rose in a red tide. He struggled to keep his voice calm as he said, “Captain, you know I can’t—”

“You’re too involved, Morgan.”

Of course he was too involved—three days ago his goddamn niece had become one of the missing kids. And he’d promised Luke—his brother, and the only family member he acknowledged these days—that he’d find her, and bring her back safely. Which was a stupid thing to do, but he just couldn’t help it. Luke and his family were the one truly good thing remaining in his life.

He flexed his fingers and took a deep breath. Anger wouldn’t help his cause. It would only confirm the captain’s opinion that he couldn’t keep a clear mind. “I know this case better than anyone. And I’ve got a better nose for hunting down killers than anyone else in the squad.” Which was certainly more accurate than the captain would ever know.

“I’m not denying either of those facts.” Benton paused, beady eyes narrowing. “But when was the last time you slept properly?”

Ethan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“And when was the last time you ate a decent meal?”

“Cap, that has nothing to do with my ability—”

“That has everything to do with it! You’re running on anger, Morgan, and nothing else. God, man, you look like shit.”

Wasn’t t

hat the truth! But the cause wasn’t just lack of sleep or food or his missing niece. It was the heat of the moon pounding through his blood.

“Your few minutes are ticking by, Morgan. Move it.”

Ethan put on his jacket and pushed past the paramedic and captain.

“Morgan?”

He hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

“Leave. If I catch your ass in the area again, and I’ll lock you up until this thing is over.”

Ethan’s smile was grim. With the full moon rising, there wasn’t a prison cell in the country that could hold him. “Sure, Cap.”