“No, because that was one detail I didn’t release,” Sofia said. “Just in case.”
Masters turned to her. “In case of what?”
“In case the real killer identified himself by slipping up.”
The silence in the room was so thick, she could have cut it with a knife. Masters’s mouth curled up into a smile. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you, Detective Selinofoto?”
“I like to think so.” She slightly tilted her head in his direction. What she was about to do what a gamble, but she was feeling lucky. “Why did you set him up?”
His ordinary face twisted into a hateful expression. “Why? Because we’ve been trying to get to him for months. He’s so well protected by his damn clan. So, we decided that the best way to get to him was to let the human authorities jail him. Then, once he was trapped, we could finally take what we needed.”
Clan. Humans. Sofia’s blood ran cold. Masters knew Lucas was a Lycan. Was he one too? “You want to kill him that bad that you would frame him for murder?”
“Do you have any idea what he is? The abomination that is their kind?” Masters’s voice grew distorted from anger. “You know,” he spat. “And still, you whored your body to that filthy animal!”
“David Masters, you’re under arrest.” She relished those words.
“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Venom dripped from his words. “Too bad I’m going to have to kill you.”
She would have laughed if he wasn’t so pathetic. “With what weapon?” He definitely wasn’t hiding anything under his clothes.
His hand went to his throat, his fingers stroking his shirt—no, there was something under the fabric. Little sharp bumps, like he was wearing jewelry. He stretched his other hand out. “With this.”
The sound of a gun cocking made her freeze. Her gaze darted to Sharpe, who had raised his arm and his weapon pointed at her. “Sharpe,” she said in a low voice. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Probably not.”
She jumped as both Sharpe and Masters said the words in unison. “What the—” Astrid’s words came back to her. They can do all sorts of things, like control people and make spells that can harm us. What were they called? “You’re a … mage.”
Masters laughed. “Correct. It’s too bad Lucas Anderson hates your guts, otherwise I might have used you as bait.”
“How did you—” And then she realized the truth. Sharpe’s hazel eyes had turned a deep brown, just like Masters’. And yesterday, the Captain’s eyes were the same shade. “You can control Bushnell. And see what he sees.”
“Yes.” He slipped a finger under his collar and took out something gold stuck around his neck. It was a thick chain that had a large disk hanging from it. In the middle of the disk was a large red gem. “Thanks to this, I can control anyone. Well, any human. But once we have taken Lucas’s blood, I will be able to control Lycans and other magical beings.”
“You bastard!” She wanted to do something—like kick his fucking teeth in—but Sharpe’s gun was still trained on her. “Sharpe,” she pleaded. “Henry … you have to fight it.”
“He can’t!” Masters spat. As if to prove a point, he twisted his hand and made Sharpe point the gun at his own head.
“No!” she cried. “Kill me. But let him live. Can’t you … erase his memories instead?”
“I don’t think so. We can’t leave witnesses, can we? No, after he kills you, he will turn the gun on himself. We’re covering our bases so even your captain has to go. Unfortunately for the poor captain, he’s about to die in a terrible car crash, care of my associates.”
“Fuck you!”
“I wouldn’t even touch you with someone else’s dick, you whore.” His grin turned evil. “Maybe I should make your death slow. A shot to the stomach so you can bleed out.” Sharpe trained the gun back at her.
This was it. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. This was how she was going to die. Her gaze went back to Sharpe. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to remember anything.
But just as she was about to resign herself to her fate, she saw something that made her grasp at the last threads of hope. Sharpe’s eyes went back to their hazel depths, just for the briefest of seconds. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his temple. He was fighting for control! She didn’t know how, but she knew.
“Goodbye, Detective,” Masters sneered.
A split second before the gunshot rang out, Sharpe pulled his hand back, sending the bullet ricocheting just over her left shoulder. The ringing in her ear was painful, but she didn’t have time to contemplate how close the bullet had gotten to her because she threw her body at Masters.
He screamed in surprise, his hands going up to cover his face. This was her chance. Her fingers targeted his neck—to the necklace—and ripped it off him, making him wail in pain. Good.
“Freeze, motherfucker!”
Sofia rolled off Masters, and when she looked up, Sharpe stood above Masters, his gun pointed at the mage. She nearly wept in relief. “I’ll call 911.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Is that it?” Sofia asked as they watched the uniformed police officers put the handcuffed Masters into the cop car. The mage’s face was stony, and he was silent the entire time, from the moment they restrained him until the officers arrived to read him his rights.
Sharpe held his hand up, as he was listening to whoever was on the other line of his phone conversation. “Thank you, ma’am. Yes, we’re headed back now.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “Yes. They’re releasing Anderson now.”
Relief washed over her like a wave. Thank God. Masters’s confession in front of two detectives was enough for the DA to drop the charges against Lucas. “And the captain?”
“Critical condition, but the doctors are positive he’ll make a recovery.” It seemed
