Hannah Jayne Read Online Free PDF Page A

him, narrowing my eyes.
    “I almost got blown up by a psychotic fallen angel,” I reminded.
    “You almost got blown up in general.”
    “Which makes looking into a demon murder look like a cakewalk.” I forced a Cheshire grin.
    “So we’re on the case?”
    “Let Dixon handle it,” Alex repeated.
    I thought of the dismissive way Dixon promised to “look into” the incident and then looked at Alex as he beelined down the front walk, stuffing his gun back into his holster. He paused at the sidewalk and looked over his shoulder. “Coming?”
    I followed Alex down to his car, where he fished out a first aid box from under the seat. He carefully, tenderly picked the last bits of glass out of my palms, then swabbed the whole thing with Mercurochrome.
    I squirmed. “That stings!”
    “Hold still.”
    He fished out a roll of gauze from the kit.
    “I shouldn’t be letting you do this,” I said finally.
    “Because I’m not a doctor?”
    “Because you’re an idiot. Something is going on. It could be a band of—of Mexican drug lords or a fallen angel coming to seek her ultimate revenge or, you know, crackheads. And you didn’t do a thing about it.” My eyes started to sting and I sniffled furiously, willing myself not to cry. “You’re going to feel so bad if they come back and gut me.”
    The muscle in Alex’s jaw twitched and I saw he was fighting a smile. “You’re just waiting for someone to get gutted, aren’t you?”
    I blew out a sigh. “Don’t you have a stakeout to go on?”
    “I’m not leaving just yet. And I’m concerned, Lawson, I am. But like I said, this”—and here he jutted his chin toward the Hendersons’ very plain, very non-Underworld-looking house—“is really not police department jurisdiction.” His eyes were soft, what I imagined would be bed-roomy and rather sexy—were I not half covered in gauze and dried blood and just about to pee.
    “So what do I do?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Just ignore a crime scene and file it under, I don’t know, weird, demonic coincidences?”
    Alex wound the last bit of gauze around my left hand and then pulled it close to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss on my palm. He looked at me through lowered lashes; the blue of his eyes was intense, piercing. “I promise to look into it,” he murmured, “if you promise me you won’t.”

    I swallowed and he held my eyes.
    “Promise,” I said, trying to consider how to cross my fingers while Alex still held my hand.
    Under Suspicion

    Chapter Two

    I was fishing my keys out of my shoulder bag—and cursing my apparent need to pack everything I’ve ever owned into eleven inches of knockoff Kate Spade—when I heard the thump from behind my locked apartment door. My hackles immediately went up. My suddenly sweaty palms worked the straps of my bag while my heart thudded into my throat and I pressed my ear to the door.
    There was an audible groan. A breathy whimper.
    I dumped my bag and gave the door a “hi-ya!” with my foot, splintering it open—at least, that’s what I imagined I would do. Instead, I shakily retrieved the hide-a-key from the dusty top of the door frame and sank it into the lock, very slowly pushing open the door. I peered in-to the darkened living room, gulping heavily when my little lunatic of puppy fur and kibble breath didn’t come barreling and barking to the door to greet me.
    “ChaCha?” I whispered into the darkness.
    The metallic stench of blood hung heavy in the air.
    “Sophie?”
    “Vlad?” I pressed on the light and felt my stomach churn as Vlad sprang up, shirtless, his chest alabaster pale in the now-glaring lights.
    Kale sprang up from underneath him, her manicured black fingernails working furiously to button her shirt.
    “Oh God. You guys! This is ... ew!”
    I tried to look away as Vlad reworked the contraption that passed for his VERM-approved seventeenth-century button fly.
    “Ew, ew, EW!”
    “What are you doing home?” Vlad demanded. He looked