“Aye, the anon was me,” James says with a nod to the detective.“Our lass nearly got napped.”
Our lass… So James knows about me and the detective.Wait, of course he knows.He has cameras outside my house watching me nearly get kidnapped or murdered, so obviously he’s seen Eddie and I fucking on the front porch since we can’t do that with my shadow daddy here inside the house.
Yet James doesn’t seem bothered in the least as he takes his tablet from me and hands it to Eddie.
Shadow Daddy does mind, however.The hallway groans.The shadows thicken, coalesce, his jealous rage feeding him strength.I can feel his domineering fury like a living thing, wrapping around my throat.
Mine.MINE, echoes in my skull.
“Daddy, stop,” I order him, catching the wide stares of the two living men.
James shifts his weight, his muscles coiling beneath his black T-shirt.“Daddy?”
“Tell me you didn’t name your rats ‘Daddy.’”Eddie’s hand goes to his hip, reaching for his gun.
The powder keg is about to blow.
“Outside.”The word rips from my throat.“Now.Both of you,outside.”
I grab Eddie’s arm with one hand, James’s with the other, and haul them toward the door.They resist for a heartbeat—two alpha predators unwilling to retreat from the threat.I shove them both onto the porch and follow, leaving the front door open behind me as a concession so Shadow Daddy can hear.So he knows I’m not abandoning him.
The fall chill hits like a wall after the unnatural winter inside.Behind us, through the open door, the shadows writhe, watching and listening.
“Now can someone tell me what the fuck’s going on?”Detective Eddie says.
James points to the tablet in Eddie’s grip, the frozen footage accusing me of my own stupidity.“Hit play.”
“Who are you anyway, and what are you doing here?”the detective demands.
“James, Sera’s mate since her Kansas City days,” James says smoothly in his Scottish accent.
My mate, my stalker, and now my lover and co-conspirator and co-murderer.
James juts his chin toward the tablet.“Hit play.”
Eddie does and watches the tablet in silence, his jaw tightening with each passing second.When it ends, he rewinds it and watches it again.
Then he turns to me, his detective brain clearly processing, but the panic in his blue eyes drags a shudder down my back.
“Sera.”
“What?”
“That could have been Red Hands,” he says, going straight for the jugular.“The MO fits.Stalking.Patience.Waiting for the right moment.If you’d gotten in that car, he’d have you, right now, alone, confined, and vulnerable.”
His next victim.A victim yet again to another man.My stomach churns, and I taste bile.
“I didn’t want to consider that,” I say, “but in the back of my mind, while I watched that footage…”
James nods solemnly, as though he considered it too.
“But we can’t see a face,” Eddie continues, zooming in on the figure.“The resolution is too poor, and it’s just a black blur.We can’t make a positive ID.Where did you get this footage?”
Eddie’s tone shifts and turns sharper.He looks at James.
James meets his gaze, unflinching.“Cameras.”
“What cameras?”
