Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

television screen. Too bad the reporter couldn't hear me.
    "Are you involved in your assistant manager's disappearance?" Her question proved (to me, at least) that she had very little common sense.
    "My whereabouts have already been disclosed to the police, who are in charge of this investigation, no matter how much you'd prefer to believe otherwise," Hank growled. "Where were you when my assistant manager disappeared?"
    "What?" she squeaked.
    "I can account for my time last night. Can you?" I almost laughed as she turned a bright pink. Yes, I dropped my shield and read her. She'd been in bed with her (married) producer. The station quickly cut to commercial while I snickered.
    * * *
    "Jayson, I need to hire another assistant manager. Trey can't handle everything by himself, and John's family is asking for help with the funeral as soon as the medical examiner releases the body," Hank sighed into his cell.
    "I saw the ambush on television," Jayson replied. "I have no idea what that trollop thought she might accomplish by accusing you. How is John's family doing?"
    "Not well. They knew where he worked and what he did, but that's about it. They didn't interfere with that, as far as I know."
    "They need money?"
    "Yeah—I'm planning to pay for the funeral, but John left instructions on what he wanted done with his brother, and quite a few from the community will be there."
    "Will his family be able to deal with that?"
    "I assume so, but this will be a private service, in case the media wants to show up."
    "You know I can't come—I can't be seen there in case reporters are parked outside," Jayson pointed out.
    "Yes. I'm well aware."
    "Do you think somebody's targeting the community?" Jayson turned to a new topic.
    "It looks that way, doesn't it? Sometime after the funeral, I want to check out that new club. I know it's been open for six months, now, but something about this bothers me."
    "I've driven by a few times—it's certainly upscale. Has valet parking, even."
    "For wannabees with money?"
    "Possibly. You know the subject's gotten hot the past couple of years. Too many wanting to experiment, when they don't have a clue about safety or where to start."
    "Yeah. Got a call from Paul the other day. He's still working as a paramedic, and says he's seen some interesting injuries lately."
    "No surprise," Jayson snorted.
    * * *
    "Well, he's handsome, but rude." Colbi Wayde muttered to her producer.
    "Sweetheart, he shouldn't have said those things to you." Mitchell Graves, producer for the morning and afternoon local news segments, married with three children and having an affair with Colbi, muttered. "Come here. Sit on my lap." He patted his knee suggestively. "I'll tell you the best news you've heard in a long time if you do."
    Mitchell, in his early forties, kept himself fit. He also felt protective of his wife—and his girlfriend.
    "What did you find?" Colbi's sunny blue eyes narrowed as she sauntered toward Mitchell.
    "I found," Mitchell began as he pulled Colbi onto his lap, "That Hank Bell has a co-owner for his club. It's a BDSM oriented business."
    "Really? We can run with that," Colbi whispered, her eyes lighting with immediate interest. "We can drag him through the muck for being an asshole."
    "Wait, you haven't heard the best part," Mitchell grinned before leaning in for a kiss. "You'll never guess who his business partner is."
    "Who is it?" Colbi held her breath.
    "Breanne Hayworth."
    " Torture in Texas Breanne Hayworth? Oh my God !"

Chapter 3  
     
    Breanne's Journal
    I almost choked on my cereal when I saw the news the following morning. Three more deaths the night before—two men and one woman, all found in an alley of the Tenderloin. While crime in the Tenderloin might be a common occurrence, these three died from slashed throats, just like all the others, and the murders were already being attributed to the same killer or killers.
    My guess was that all three victims were prostitutes, but I couldn't say for