“Hey,” I said quietly. “You’re looking better.”
Jame blinked slowly, his eyes going gold for a moment before returning to a more human shade.
I stopped beside Granny Wolfe who didn’t take her eyes off Jame. “Can I ask you some questions?”
Jame swallowed. “Yes.”
I winced at the gravel in his voice. He sounded like he’d been strangled or had screamed for hours on end. It made me angry that both things might actually be possible.
I wasn’t going to go through the long and tedious line of questioning that would build a good court case, and tell me exactly every step of everything Jame and Ben had gone through. Not yet, anyway.
We needed to find Ben and catch a killer. The details could wait.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Contact. Jake Monroy. Government agency. Had information. On Sven. W-wanted info on vampires. R-rossi.”
Everything inside me went cold and still. That was where I’d seen the ring. On Jake’s hand. Holy shit. Ryder’s boss had been the one holding up Sven.
Was he the murderer? A human? Vampires were so much stronger and faster, it was hard for me to accept one man could take them down. Was the Department of Paranormal Protection a front for killers?
Jame panted for a bit, as if those words had been pulled out by the root, exhausting him. But his gaze held mine, burning, angry.
I waited for him to catch his breath.
“The vampire...the vampire. Stank like death. Red eyes. Silver hair. Old. Old. He took...he took...Ben.” The last word came out in a keening whine. Every muscle in Jame’s body tightened, the cords of his neck popping, sweat covering his skin as he fought the wolf inside of him that was hurting for his mate.
Granny Wolfe squeezed his shoulder. “Jame. See me now. Only me.”
His gaze lifted to hers and his muscles relaxed, his breathing evened out.
“Tell her the rest, but you stay here with me, now. I protect you. Protect my own. I protect your mate. Nothing else for you to worry about.”
Jame lifted his chin, exposing the side of his neck, eyes sliding away from her.
“Good now. Good.” Granny squeezed his shoulder again, gently.
“They wanted Old Rossi. Said they’d leave a path of blood to his d-door s-step. And Ben...he smelled Ben. He knew. Ben. He knew Rossi. Knew he made him. Made Ben.”
Everything that was cold inside me flash hot. “Did they kill him?”
“He fought...we fought.”
Silence filled the room, Jame swallowing and swallowing as he choked on memories.
“They took him. They took him. They took him, they took him, took him...” His voice broke into ragged whispers, a mantra of grief repeating pain.
Tears slipped hot down my face, and I wiped them angrily away with the heels of my palms. “We’ll find him. We will. We’ll bring him back. We’ll bring him home to you.”
I didn’t know if he heard me, caught as he was in overwhelming pain and sorrow.
Granny Wolfe heard me. Finally turned my way, her hand shifting from Jame’s shoulder to his head. She stroked his hair back off his forehead over and over, soothing as if he were a child.
“He’s still not healed,” she said. “They pumped him full of drugs. His sorrow’s gonna be rage in the morning. We’ll be hunting. We’ll still be hunting.”
“Has he said anything else?”
“Just that Ben’s still alive. Old vampire has him. Don’t know which way they went. Beat him black and blue to death’s doorway. Used Ben’s blood to leave that message. Message to thestrigoi.”
