“Maybe.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, what’s the name of the girl Bryce wanted to change?”

“Katie Hixson. She’s about thirty-two years old. Medium height, slim, with short blond hair and blue eyes,” Knox listed succinctly.

“Do you know her address?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

I downshifted the car as I pulled over to the side of the road just outside the Dark Room, a nightclub in that catered only to nightwalkers and lycanthropes. A long line had already begun to stretch outside the bar as a mix of shifters and nightwalkers hoped to get in tonight. It was one of the few places you were likely to run into the nightwalker you were looking for.

“That’s okay. Daniel can locate her for me. You start digging around in Bryce’s past. Call me if you find anything interesting.”

Knox nodded once and slowly got out of the car. By the expression that flashed across his face, each motion was painful. After closing the door, he leaned forward on it, wincing as it cut into his wounded hands. “I’m sorry about the morgue and how I…performed at the house. I—”

“Let it go, Knox. This job takes some getting used to. I’m not Valerio.” I was quick to cut him off. I didn’t want his apologies, particularly out in the open where any nightwalker might be able to hear him. We needed a strong front or there would be the chaos Bishop was so confident was everywhere within my domain. “Just get to work. I’ll be in contact.”

“Mira, you realize that if the Daylight Coalition is behind this, there is a very good chance a member now has your photograph,” Knox grimly pointed out.

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to get this bastard, because I’m not moving,” I said with a smirk. “Get to work.”

The thought chilled me to the shreds of my soul. I had lived more than six hundred years and had never come close to exposing what I was to the world at large. But now it was a very real threat that my identity was in jeopardy. At the very least, I would become the main target for all of the Daylight Coalition.

As I drove off, heading to a quieter part of the city, I pushed the speaker button on my steering wheel and said Daniel’s name into the open air. The Bluetooth connection to my cell phone quickly dialed the number.

“I’m a little busy right now,” Daniel’s voice growled from the speakers of my car.

“I have no doubt you are, but I need your help,” I said, pulling into a dark parking lot. “I have a lead in the case we discussed, but I need you to track her down for me. Name’s Katie Hixson. Slim build with blond hair—”

“And blue eyes,” Daniel finished in a suddenly weary voice.

“You know her?” I was stunned. What were the odds that Daniel knew this nightwalker wannabe?

“Yeah.”

“Do you know where I can find her?”

“Yeah, I’m with her now. She’s dead, Mira.”

4

A dozen profanities tumbled past my lips, filling the air. It was a good thing that the residents of Savannah didn’t know seventeenth century Italian curses or I might have blushed.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” It was a stupid question, but I couldn’t afford for Katie to be dead. Sure, I had planned to kill her if she had anything to do with Bryce’s murder, but that was only after I had managed to extract some information from her still-living brain.

“I know dead, Mira,” Daniel snarled. “Her neck has been broken and she’s been drained of blood. She looks like a gray raisin. She’s dead.”

I pounded the steering wheel once with my fist and swallowed a fresh round of curses. This was not how my night was supposed to go. I had hoped to have this whole mess settled before sunrise, but I was beginning to have serious doubts. Bishop was going to serve my head up on a silver platter to the Coven if I continued at this rate. That was assuming the Daylight Coalition didn’t get ahold of me first.

“Where did you find her?” I bit out, trying to rein in my temper. My hands had begun to tremble and it felt as if my throat was starting to close up in fear. I wouldn’t let the Coven take me.

“At home. Her neighbor called. She got concerned when she saw the front door left open.” The scrape of Daniel’s shoes on concrete could be heard in the background. It sounded like he was pacing outside, the one place he could get a little privacy at a murder investigation.

“A wild guess, but the neighbor didn’t see anything?”

“Not a thing. Not even sure when Ms. Hixson got home.”

“Has Archie arrived yet?”

“He’s on his way.”

“Tell him to stall if necessary. I want to look at the body before you move it. What’s the address?”

Daniel gave me quick directions as I shifted back into first and drove out of the dark parking lot. Once I found the right street, the house would be easy to identify. It would be the one surrounded by flashing cop cars and decorated in yellow tape like a giant Christmas tree.

I flew through the gears, zipping across town as fast as I could. Katie’s house was just on the outskirts of the city on the opposite end from where Bryce’s nighttime lair was located. While Bryce’s death had annoyed me, Katie’s obvious murder had caused a knot of worry to start growing in my stomach. Had someone else known about her involvement with Bryce and killed her in fear that she knew something or saw something? Or maybe someone thought she was responsible for Bryce’s untimely demise and had murdered her in revenge?

Yet all these concerns and speculation were pushed to back of my mind as I parked my car at the end of the block from Katie’s house. I had briefly hoped it would be in a questionable part of town so her death could be pawned off as a flash of random violence in a violent neighborhood. Unfortunately, Katie had owned a house in a quiet, family-oriented part of town with its neighborhood watches, window boxes, and decorative flags celebrating the upcoming start of summer. Not the type of place a body was supposed to be found drained and broken.

Popping the trunk, I walked around to the back of the car and pulled out a black blazer. I quickly tucked my shirt into my jeans and pulled on the jacket. I briefly tried to straighten my hair and wipe away some of the blood that covered the side of my face. Without seeing a mirror, I knew I looked like I had been dragged through hell. Yet part of convincing a human that we were something other than what we really were was giving them a good reason to believe us. And right now, I needed to be able to convince the cops milling around this crime scene that I was just another detective.

With my shoulders back and my head up, I walked down the street and past the threshold of the house, pausing long enough to wipe my feet on the brown and black welcome mat. As I passed each police officer, detective, and forensic investigator, I mentally pushed the image of my being another detective into their brains. It took a little extra push because my jeans were torn and dirty. There was also dried blood on my temple and along the side of my face from where my scalp had been cut by flying debris at Bryce’s house.

The process was tiring and the strain was already causing my head to throb along with all the other aches in my body. There were close to a dozen people in the area, not counting the neighbors that were standing in their front yards with looks of horror stretched across their faces. Normally, I wouldn’t dare to come into a crime scene littered with so many people, but three people were dead in less than twenty-four hours and I was beginning to fear that the body count was going to continue to rise if I didn’t find the killer soon. My people didn’t need to be drawn into the spotlight by some psychopathic loose cannon.

In the living room, I found Daniel standing on the fringe of the group huddled around the body sprawled on the floor. His lips were drawn into a frown, causing deep lines to crease his face. An unlit cigarette dangled from his fingertips, waiting for him to finally step outside again so he could light it.