The sight of the gun had Eve tensing, but she said, “I will, but I want information first.”
Dru raised her gun. “Um, do you want a bullet in your head?”
It was Cain’s turn to step forward. He positioned himself between Eve and the barrel of the gun. “Fire if you want to,” he invited softly, “but then you should probably run.”
Her nostrils flared as if she were trying to get his scent. “You smell”—Dru whispered—“like blood and fire.”
He stared back at her. “And you smell like a woman who’s been using witchcraft.” A woman with no scent. The witches could do that. They could make a brew to cloak scents.
She laughed then. A deep, rumbling laugh that he hadn’t expected from such a small package. “I don’t mess with any crazy witches”—she leaned forward—“but I do know how to mix some herbs for a little protection.”
Protection that could mask her smell? Yes, he’d heard of that, but . . . “Why doesn’t your heart beat?” When he focused just on her, he should be able to hear it.
He couldn’t.
The laughter faded from her face. “Maybe I lied before. Maybe I just don’t have a heart.”
Eve sighed from behind him. “And maybe you’re just bullshitting.” She shoved Cain aside. “She wears a special vest under her clothes, okay? One that mutes the sound so that no one else can hear it.”
Dru gave a little shrug. “An unfortunate encounter with a vampire a few years ago. Even though he’s rotting in the ground, it’s made me a bit . . . obsessive . . . about a few things.”
“Yeah,” Eve muttered, “but maybe instead of worrying so much about your scent and heartbeat, you should look into investing in a new door and store alarm.” She cleared her throat and slapped her hand on the counter. “But right now, I need you to help me.”
“And I should because . . . ?”
“Because it was my story that put your freak of a stepfather on death row.” Eve bared her teeth. “You’re welcome. Now pay me back, and I’ll get my butt out of your shop.”
Dru’s hand tightened around the gun, but she slowly lowered the weapon to the countertop. “What do you want?”
Eve backed up and hit the lights. When the illumination flooded on, Cain saw the sketches and photographs that lined the wall behind Dru’s head.
“No one inks wolves quite like you.” Eve’s voice was flat.
Cain frowned and searched the pictures. He saw half a dozen wolves scattered in the images. Some were hunting. Howling. Running.
“Even when they’re supposed to look like monsters, the eyes give them away. Your eyes are always different.”
Cain’s own eyes narrowed. He could see what Eve was talking about. The lines drawn for the wolves’ eyes . . . were distinctive. Not an animal. A human gaze.
“It’s like a fingerprint. I saw your fingerprint last night.” Eve’s voice came faster. “I saw your fingerprint on the right inner wrist of a man who locked me in a room and watched while I burned.”
Dru swallowed.
“He was military, don’t know if he was current or discharged, but the guy moved like Special Ops. Controlled. Dangerous. He was six foot two, about two hundred twenty pounds, with dark hair and scars that cut across the right side of his face—”
Dru held up her hand. “You should have started with the scars.” She bent beneath the counter. Pulled out a heavy, black book, and began flipping through the sketches. She stopped and her finger tapped on the image of two wolves.
One wolf had just killed the other. The victor stared back, fangs glinting. Eyes shining.
“He hated the way I did the eyes,” Dru said and her lips pulled down in a frown. “Asshole thought he’d get his money back because I made the wolf look like he had a soul.”
And monsters weren’t supposed to have souls.
“The guy’s a Ranger.” Dru flipped the book around so Eve could scan the notes she’d jotted next to the image. “Name’s Damon Tyler. And I even have his address for you.”
An address Cain had already memorized. He knew this town pretty well, and he knew where to find that street.
“Now are we done?” Dru demanded. “Does this square us up?”
Eve nodded and backed up. “Thank you.” She turned away and Cain followed at her back.
“I should thank you. . . .” Dru’s voice was soft. Far more subdued.
Cain paused when Eve glanced over her shoulder at the other woman.