Katherine pulled away from Dane again. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and rocked back and forth as if trying to soothe herself.

  The silence in the bull pen was deafening. Dane cleared his throat. “Come on, I need to talk to you in interrogation.”

  Katherine didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look at him. She just turned woodenly and headed for interrogation room one.

  Evelyn was still there. Watching.

  Katherine paused in front of her. “I’m sorry about Trent.”

  A tear leaked down Evelyn’s cheek. “I don’t think you are, Kat.”

  Dane stiffened.

  “I’m not sure you can actually be sorry about anything, especially something as insignificant as another person’s life.” Another tear trickled down her cheek.

  Dane stepped in front of Katherine. “Take her out of here, Mac,” he ordered.

  Evelyn’s shoulders straightened. “Because I’m the one who’s out of control, right?” Her tear-filled eyes found Dane’s. “Why can’t you see what she is? Trent couldn’t see either. Now it’s too late.”

  Then she was gone. Being led—pulled—away by Mac.

  Dane turned back to Katherine. He saw a woman struggling to hold on to her self-control. Was she a monster?

  No, he didn’t see it.

  But he knew, based on his own life, that monsters could hide anyplace.

  “I need to see him,” Evelyn said. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. The detective named Mac was trying to force her out of the station, but it wasn’t happening.

  She needed to see Trent.

  One more time.

  “He’s in the morgue. You don’t want—”

  “Yes, I do.” She lifted her chin. “Someone has to identify the body, right? Or did Katherine do that already?”

  “You ever been in a morgue, ma’am?”

  “I’m a doctor—I have a medical license. I’ve seen plenty of bodies.” And she knew where the morgue was located. So she headed for the elevator. She couldn’t look at Katherine anymore.

  The woman was standing there, offering her apologies.

  I don’t believe her.

  But before she could get in the elevator, the detective moved to block her path. “You can’t see him yet.”

  “I have to see him.”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am, not yet, you don’t. Once I get the clear from the captain and the ME, then I’ll take you down. You should go home. Get some rest. We’ll call you.”

  They’d call her to see Trent’s remains.

  Trent. He’d been far from perfect, she knew that. But he’d also been her best friend.

  “I’m not leaving until I see him.”

  Mac swore. “Then go down to the lobby. Stay there, hit the cafeteria. Just don’t come back to the bull pen. I’ll find you.”

  The elevator’s doors opened.

  Mac walked away from her. Probably heading back to talk to Katherine.

  All the cops wanted to talk to Katherine, but no one ever arrested her. No one seemed to see past her surface.

  Only I do.

  Evelyn’s steps were wooden. In a few moments, she was in the lobby, but she heard raised voices. She turned her head and watched the crowd through the windows.

  Reporters. All pushing and asking questions of the uniforms outside.

  She headed toward them and shoved open the doors. The sun was bright, shining.

  “Is it true that Valentine has claimed another victim?” one reporter asked a cop who was heading toward his patrol car.

  The cop didn’t respond.

  Valentine.

  The reporters just didn’t understand. Valentine was only part of the story. Katherine was the rest.

  But no one knew about Katherine. Not the real Katherine.

  Only I do.

  Evelyn’s gaze swept the street, and she saw the news vans that were parked near the station.

  Her heart began to beat faster. Maybe it was time for everyone to know the truth.

  – 12 –

  The door closed behind Dane with a soft click. Katherine took a slow, deep breath, then glanced toward the two-way mirror. “Who’s watching this time?”

  “The captain and Marcus Wayne.”

  She stared at the mirror. The numbness was starting to wear away. Now she just wanted to scream. To rage. To do something. “He was right there. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined what I would do if he was right in front of me?”

  Kill him.

  She’d wanted to.

  Dane pulled out a chair for her.

  She didn’t sit. She started to pace, her body far too tense right then for sitting. Now that the ice was cracking around her, Katherine’s whole body seemed filled with desperate energy.

  “Did he look the same? Has he changed his hair or—”

  She whirled toward him. “I didn’t see his face. He came up behind me.” Her hands lifted, curving around her body in mimicry of his. “He had his mouth at my ear.”

  Dane stepped closer to her. “You’re sure it was him?”

  “He was whispering to me. I remembered his whisper.” Because he’d whispered to her so many times before. Only she hadn’t realized that the one sharing his secrets with her was a killer. “I had my gun, and I was going to turn and shoot him. But he’d taken my bullets.” She rubbed her temples. They were throbbing so badly. “I told you that, didn’t I? That he took my bullets?”

  “Yes, you told me.” There was no expression in his voice.

  Her hands dropped. She studied him, suspicious. “You believe me, don’t you? I had bullets in that gun! I was going to stop him!” Then she whirled toward the mirror. “Marcus! I don’t care what you think—I didn’t let him get away! I wanted to stop him!” She slammed her hand against the mirror. “I want this over.”

  Then Dane’s reflection was behind hers. He reached for her again.

  She whirled around to face him. “Don’t. I-I can’t!”

  And that hurt. Because Dane…he’d been the one person she could touch without feeling the instinctive urge to withdraw. Only now…“I can still feel him on me.” It made her feel dirty. But what was new? Ever since she’d walked into that basement, she’d felt that way.

  Nothing could change that.

  “He’s not here, Katherine.” Dane put his hands on her shoulders.

  His touch was warm and strong, and she wanted to shove him away. “He’s always here.” Didn’t he get that? “Always watching.”

  She saw Dane’s gaze cut to the mirror.

  “You need to get off this case.” She wouldn’t have his death on her conscience. “You need to stay away from me.”

  He didn’t back away. He crowded in closer. “Why? Because Valentine might come after me?”

  “There’s no ‘might’ about it. He said he would! He told me!”

  Dane actually smiled, and the sight chilled her to the bone. “Good. Let the bastard come.”

  “I don’t want any more deaths on me!”

  His gaze searched hers. “That’s what you need to stop believing. None of the deaths are on you. They are all on him. Every single one.”

  But Katherine could only shake her head. “Tell that to Trent. If he’d never met me, he’d still be living.”

  “Still think she’s working with Valentine?” the captain asked him.

  Marcus Wayne didn’t take his gaze off the couple before him. There seemed to be genuine guilt in Katherine’s voice. Of course, sociopaths were often skilled at mimicking emotions.

  Michael O’Rourke was certainly skilled in that area.

  “Katherine Cole is a very complex woman.”

  She’d pulled away from Dane. It was obvious from his expression that the detective hadn’t wanted to let her go.

  Like Valentine, he seemed to be getting pulled in by Katherine. Valentine wanted to protect his Kat. It seemed the detective wanted the same thing.

  “I’d like to see the detective’s personnel record,??
? Marcus said.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the captain stiffen. “Why the hell do you want that?”

  “Because Katherine just told us that Valentine may target your detective. It only makes sense that I learn everything I can about him.” The words were partially true, but more, he wanted to understand why Katherine was drawn to Dane Black.

  First Valentine, now Black. Both men were highly protective and, judging by what he was observing, possessive of her. Did the men share other traits?

  Perhaps he could actually learn about Valentine by studying Black.

  “Katherine, look, I need to—”

  The door flew open. Mac stood there, his face tense. “Dane, I need you. Now.”

  Katherine stepped forward immediately. “Has something happened?” Please, not another victim. Not another…

  Mac’s gaze swept to her. He must have read her fear because he said, “It’s not another victim.”

  Her shoulders sagged as relief hit her.

  “Dane, now.”

  Dane marched toward him. He bent his head near Mac’s, and Katherine strained to hear their whispers. She caught “…reporters…she’s talking to them now…”

  Who was?

  Dane swore and glanced back at Katherine. “Stay here, okay?”

  She was tired of hiding. Hiding hadn’t done her any good. Valentine knew exactly where she was. “Who’s talking to the reporters?”

  A muscle jerked along Dane’s jaw. “Please, stay here.”

  Then he was gone. Leaving her, and no way was she just going to stand there. She couldn’t. Her body was vibrating with desperate energy, and every time she had even a second to think—

  She saw Trent’s body.

  Katherine hurried to the door, but Mac blocked her path. “You should stay here, ma’am.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  Mac shook his head. “No.”

  “Then I’m going with Dane.” She rushed past him and caught Dane just as he was leaving the bull pen. “Wait!” she called.

  Dane turned and reached for her, but seemed to catch himself. His hands fisted. “I’ve got to go outside and do damage control. You need to stay in here. The vultures are circling, and I’m not giving them your blood.”

  Everyone else had bled. Savannah. Amy. Trent.

  Maybe it was her turn. “I’m coming with you, and unless you want to cuff me and toss me into a cell, then you can’t stop me.”

  His jaw locked, but he turned and stormed away. No cuffs. No cell.

  Every step she took after him made her feel stronger. The ice was falling away, crashing at her feet.

  Valentine’s touch was still there, his whisper running through her ear.

  But…

  I won’t let you win.

  Then Dane was heading outside. She could see the crowd of reporters. None of them were looking her way because they were too focused on someone else. Someone right in the middle of the throng.

  Katherine hurried down the steps outside the PD, trying to catch up to Dane. Then she heard a familiar voice. A voice that halted her.

  “I know I’ve put my professional career in jeopardy…”

  The reporters shifted a bit, and Katherine was able to peer through the crowd. She could just see the top of Evelyn Knight’s blonde head, and she heard the woman say, “But I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. Sometimes there are things in this world—people—who are more important than a career.” She pulled in a breath and pointed at Katherine. “My colleague and friend, Dr. Trent Lancaster, was one of those people. Last night, he was brutally murdered by the Valentine Killer.”

  The reporters began firing questions.

  Raising her voice, Evelyn kept talking. “The police won’t tell you the truth. They don’t want you to know Valentine is here, killing in their city.”

  “What. The. Fuck.” Dane’s snarl was lethal. Then he rushed toward Evelyn and the reporters.

  Katherine didn’t move.

  “Valentine is here because he followed the one woman he loves. Katelynn Crenshaw is living in New Orleans.”

  “How do you know that?” A reporter’s yell carried over the frenzied questioning voices.

  “I was treating her.” Evelyn’s stark confession.

  “And this interview session is over.” Dane shoved away a handful of microphones. “Dr. Knight, you need to come with me now.”

  “Detective Black knows the truth!” Evelyn yelled, her face flushing as she stared into the crowd of reporters. “He knows Katelynn is here. He knows—”

  Dane caught her elbow in his hand. He ignored the reporters’ questions and began pushing Evelyn up the steps.

  Evelyn’s gaze darted to the left and met Katherine’s.

  “Where is Katelynn Crenshaw?” shouted a reporter.

  A car braked near the front of the station. Katherine’s marshal jumped out, took in the scene in one wild glance, then started running toward her. Evelyn yanked her elbow from Dane’s grasp, turned back to face the reporters, and pointed at Katherine. “Katelynn Crenshaw is right here!”

  At first there was only silence.

  Then more questions erupted. Her instinct had always been to run. To hide. But now she had the perfect opportunity to say what she wanted to say. “Yes, I’m here.”

  The reporters moved instantly, rushing to swarm around her. Their camera lenses locked on her. Their microphones were suddenly in her face.

  “Katherine!” Ross yelled. She knew he wanted her to stop.

  But she knew she couldn’t.

  The reporters were shouting their questions, one after another in a dizzying blur. She ignored them and stared into the camera nearest her. She wanted a message delivered, and the media would be her delivery service.

  “I’m here,” she said again and lifted her chin. “So if you’re hunting because of me, then come for me. Not anyone else. Just me.”

  She heard low, vicious curses, and then Ross put his hand around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. “I’m U.S. Marshal Anthony Ross.” His voice boomed out. “And all future questions had better be directed at me and my office.”

  There wasn’t a need for Katherine to say more. She knew her clip would air on TV, again and again, and that was exactly what she wanted.

  Give the killer a challenge. Give him me.

  Ross bent his head. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Why?”

  But he knew. He had to know.

  So she pulled back, gave him a grim smile, and said, “Because someone has to stop him.”

  And she was tired of having blood on her hands.

  Then Dane was there. Face locked in angry lines. Jaw tense. As Ross turned back to the reporters, Dane glared at Katherine. “You put yourself out there as bait.”

  Yes, she had. But why was that so surprising? They both knew that he’d planned to use her as bait from the very beginning. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

  Now they’d just see what Valentine did next.

  Dane pretty much dragged Katherine back inside the station. Cops were watching them with wide eyes. The captain was staring at her, shaking his head. Evelyn was seated near a desk, with two uniforms glowering down at her.

  Dane didn’t stop walking. He pulled Katherine with him, then pushed her inside the interrogation room that was becoming too annoyingly familiar to her.

  “Dane, look, I—”

  He slammed the door behind him. His mouth crashed down on hers.

  She should push away from him. Should tell him to stop. She shouldn’t wrap her arms around his shoulders and yank him closer. She shouldn’t open her mouth wider. Shouldn’t kiss him harder.

  A dozen cops waited outside. The vulture reporters were salivating at the chance to tear her apart.

  She shouldn’t be doing this.

  But she needed him more than she needed air right then.

  “Dane.” She forced herself to speak. To grab onto the self-control that was shredding.
>
  His fingers were wrapped around her hips. Holding tight. His head lifted. His blue gaze blazed. “You think I’ll just stand back and let you get hurt?”

  She hadn’t thought about what Dane would do. She just wanted to stop the killing. To get the murderer’s attention. Katherine made herself take a deep breath. Her gaze drifted from him—she couldn’t stare into his eyes right then—and landed on the two-way mirror. Her body tensed. “Is anyone—”

  “There are no suspects in here, so no one’s watching. It’s just us.” His breath expelled in a hard rush. “Bait. You put yourself up as fucking bait.” His fingers bit into her hips. “Why? Do you want to die?”

  There was a rap at the door. “Dane?” Mac’s voice.

  “Give me a minute!” Dane snarled back. Katherine realized he’d pinned her between his body and the door. His muscled frame pressed against her. She should have felt trapped. Should have been angry, afraid.

  But Dane had never made her feel fear. Her heart beat too fast. Adrenaline spiked in her blood. But it wasn’t fear driving her, not with him.

  “Whatever I have to do, I’ll keep you alive.” His words were a vow. “Just don’t ever do something like that again.”

  Then he was kissing her once more. A kiss that was still angry, still rough with desire, but also…desperate.

  She knew desperation when she felt it.

  When he released her, Katherine’s breath panted out.

  He took a step back. Clenched his hands into fists and seemed to be fighting for his own self-control. “If the killer comes after you, he’ll have to go through me first.”

  She couldn’t allow any weakness. Dane was a weakness. She needed to separate from him while she still could. She turned her back on him and reached for the door.

  She twisted the doorknob.

  His hand flew up and slammed the door shut. Then he leaned in behind her. His breath brushed lightly over her ear. Ross had been this close to her on the steps outside the police station. Only she hadn’t felt this desperate tension in her body then. Too much awareness. Too much need.

  It was only for Dane.

  Her heart raced even faster in her chest. “You don’t know me,” she said again—because he couldn’t. She didn’t want him to know the secrets she carried.