Page 44 of Wynter

What ever made me think I could be a detective? That shit’s nothing like catching skips. At the agency, I had an entire team. Encrypted emails and calls telling me everything I needed to know.

Catch the train at three o’clock.

Your target will have red hair.

Drive east on the 401.

Take the next exit and look for a red van.

But I haven’t got any other marketable skills. So I posted a detective ad on Screech, and next thing I knew, I was meeting Julian Wade at O’Malley’s and following him to Jewels Cafe.

I’d have returned his deposit by now if the thief didn’t mean a lot to Wyn. But I’ve tried. Fuck, I’ve tried. Interviewed everyone who got robbed. Pored over my notes during every waking moment since I ran into Wyn. And so far? Nothing. Big fat nothing.

“There’s only one thing Wyn wants, and it’s not something I can give her.”

“Let me guess. Kids, a family?” Gray asks.

Which is the furthest thing from the truth. Because having both—either—with Wyn would make me the luckiest man in the world. But it’s also the one thing I’ll never have. Not when she’ll never want anything to do with me, even if I am her mate.

Suddenly, I want to shout at Gray to tattoo the top of my foot. The palm of my hand. My ribs. My hip where it dips in and there’s only bone. Because it’s over. Wyn and I—we were always over. Since that day at St. Vincent’s, when I broke her heart, and mine too.

I might as well pack my bags and start over in another town. So I’m not always reminded of what I lost. Of what I stupidly gave up.

Because what other choice do I have? Keep looking for a thief I doubt I’ll ever find? Or beg Wyn to take me back when I’ve got nothing to give?

Chapter Fourteen

Zoe

“You’re not really going back to the agency, are you?” Mini asks after Riley leaves.

I shake my head. “No. Yes. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” Mini rolls her eyes at me. “Do you have a death wish?”

“No, I don’t have a death wish.” I roll my eyes right back. “And why not go back? I was actually good at that job. I made the world a better place.”

Mini raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, look at Snowball.” I gesture at my pet, who’s curled up on the couch between us. “She was living in a cage. And he didn’t feed or bathe her, poor thing.”

Snowball lets out a small whimper, and Mini scoops her up and gives her a hug. “You poor little Snow baby. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Snowball starts to purr, and I lower my voice. “The vampire who made her was building some sort of army. Had cages and cages of fuzzies—bunch of other new species, too—but most didn’t survive.”

Snowball lets out a hiss, and Mini shakes her head.

“Not an army,” she tells me.

“Then what?” I ask.

“Food.” Mini cuddles Snowball closer. “Snowball says they were basically lab rats.”

“He was eating fuzzies?” I gasp.

“Drinking their blood.” Mini shudders. “He couldn’t accept what he’d become, so he was trying to create an alternate food source. So he wouldn’t have to keep from biting humans.”

“And he made round balls of fluff?” I shake my head. “He really was insane.”