Keri Arthur - Circle of Desire

If she didn't follow it, she'd lose it. But she couldn't leave the shifter here alone, either. Not when he appeared to have no idea what it was he faced.

"Back off, shifter, and let me at it," she said.

"Like… hell." His words were punctured with the smack of flesh against flesh.

"Hitting it is not going to damage it." Exasperation edged her voice. If she lost the soul sucker's trail because of this man's stubbornness…

"He's injured. Bleeding."

"And already dead," the vampire snarled. "As you and the bitch will be by the time I'm finished with you both."

"As I said to the lady, like hell."

His words were emphasized by a grunt of effort and another smack of flesh. The vampire made an odd sound deep in his throat and staggered backwards. It was the break she'd been waiting for. She reached deep, drawing on all her remaining kinetic strength, and flung the shapeshifter back — far back, across the warehouse.

Surprise whisked around her a moment before he smacked against the wall, then all emotion died . Hit his head. At least she didn't have to worry about him getting in the way.

She raised the stake and ran at the vampire. He snarled and tried to dodge, but his quicksilver movements were slowing, and he was nowhere near fast enough. She drove the stake through his chest into his black heart, then leapt sideways as he lashed at her with clawed hands. His fingers slithered down her leg, tearing through her jeans and into flesh. She cursed and kicked him, shoving him backwards.

He hit the ground with a splat and didn't do anything more than writhe. Blue fire encased his torso, and the smell of burning meat churned her stomach. She climbed to her feet, brushed the dirt from her hands and watched the vampire incinerate. She felt no elation at her victory.

Couldn't. Not when there was one more horror still running free.

When there was nothing left but ash, she turned and ran for the stairs. The shifter was safe enough now that the vampire was dead, and with any luck, Gran and she would be well gone by the time he woke. Because if the hostility he'd projected was anything to go by, it wouldn't be pleasant to be within a ten-mile radius of the man when he eventually stirred. Especially after she'd knocked him cold.

The moonlight seemed abnormally bright after the shuttered darkness within the warehouse. She blinked and hesitated, searching for some sign of the soul sucker. Evil was a distant echo moving away fast.

She shifted shape and flew down the alley, skimming past the cops who raced toward the warehouse. This time the creature headed for the main street. Perhaps it hoped the noise and motion might loosen any psychic hold she had on it, which was a definite possibility after all she'd been through tonight.

The bitterness of the night chilled the moisture dripping down her leg. Each breath was a puff of white that hung in the air, oddly resembling the thing she chased. Goose bumps fled across her skin. Perhaps a premonition of what might be if she wasn't very careful over the next few days.

The soul sucker hit the street, its ethereal form getting lost in the warm glow of lights. It whisked away to the right, and the psychic leash she had on it snapped with a suddenness that had her plummeting to the ground.

She hit with a grunt, then shifted shape and rolled onto her back, staring up at the moon.

She'd lost the damn thing.

Ethan impatiently thrust the paramedic's hand away.

"Enough, already. The cut is not that bad."

"Sir, the wound needs stitches — " "It's stopped bleeding, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but there's still the possibility of concussion — " If the ache in his head was anything to go by, it was more than a possibility. But right now, he had no intention of going anywhere — as much as the paramedics and the captain might wish it. "I haven't got a concussion, and I have no desire to go to the hospital."

"Sir — " "Goddamn it, Morgan." The second voice rose out of the night, cutting through the paramedic's words like a foghorn. "I thought I told you to keep away from this investigation."

The captain huffed to a stop three feet away, nose and cheeks beacon bright in the stark light coming from the ambulance's interior. Ethan knew the cause was not so much the cold as blood pressure. This case would surely kill Benton if they didn't solve it soon.

"You didn't tell me to keep away from the warehouse," he said with a calm he certainly didn't feel. "Not my fault one of the suspects decided to head my way."

"I told you to stay completely away. That means out of the whole damn area."

Benton dragged a stick of gum from his pocket and undid the silvery wrapper. He offered it to Ethan, who shook his head. The captain had given up smoking two months before in an effort to save some money more than save his health, but he now appeared to be spending more on gum than he ever had on cigarettes. And his health hadn't improved — although this case certainly wasn't helping anyone's physical or mental state.

"Just what the hell happened in that warehouse?"

Ethan shrugged. "As I told Mark, I heard the man and woman enter the building. I wasn't sure who they were or what they were doing, so I waited. When the man attacked the woman, I intervened, but the woman somehow managed to knock me unconscious. You know the rest."

Benton grunted. "Was there anyone else in the warehouse other than those two?"

"No." Though he'd certainly had a sense of something else, something he couldn't exactly define. "Why?"

"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. Magic 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 haven't 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."