Free Catastrophe by Liz Schulte Page A

blood is on you.”
    My temper boiled up. In about two moves, that gun could be mine and he could be one less problem in my life. Instead I threw the washcloth into the sink. He wasn’t the one I was mad at. That squarely fell on Corbin’s shoulders. “Look, you don’t need to worry about it. I didn’t kill a single living human. Grab me some clothes then get out of here before someone thinks you know more than you should.”
    Amos said he had the information I needed. I didn’t need Dempsey anymore. We would both be better off if he had nothing to do with this case. He could go on living his oblivious, yet happy, human life, and I could keep from having to babysit a nearly helpless human.
    “I already know more than I ever wanted to,” he mumbled to himself as he went to my duffel bag and pulled out a pair of leather pants and a long-sleeve black shirt and handed them to me, but made no move toward the door.
    I dried off and changed, feeling slightly better. “Look, I should have never come to your crime scene. There are probably two different killers. Good luck with your cases, but I don’t think we can help each other.”
    “That’s it?” He gave me a dubious look. “You said something today…” His tongue touched the corner of his mouth.
    “About?” I asked, putting my boots back on and tucking the last of knives back into their hiding spots on my body.
    “You said you know about…”
    He couldn’t even say the word. “Supernaturals?”
    Relief washed over his face. “What do you know?”
    This wasn’t the first time I had seen a human go through something like this. Knowing in theory but not knowing enough to understand was terrible, but it also kept them alive. So long as they were smart enough not to keep digging, no one in the Abyss had to know they knew, because once that was out, they were a liability. The only choice I really had was to perpetuate what everyone was probably already telling him. “That it’s bullshit,” I said, forcing a smile. “I lied. I heard them call you X-Files and took a stab. Is that why you are here and waited for me? Sort of pathetic. You’re too old for ghosts and goblins.”
    He rolled his shoulders back, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I was married once. Wife. Kids. That sort of thing. It was the happiest time of my life.” His voice cracked. “I was never a believer back then. The stories, the legends—they weren’t my thing. I always figured we had enough real bad guys to deal with that we didn’t need to make up fake ones.” His hands went up and loosened his tie. “I honestly never gave any of it much thought. Then one night this happened and my whole life changed.” He opened his shirt, revealing a long, jagged scar across his chest.
    “It’s not possible,” I said, staring at the scar. If a werewolf had scratched him, he would be a werewolf now. That didn’t go away. Once someone transformed into a wolf, they didn’t go back to their human form…ever. If he had some sort of mutation of the virus, then the council had a much larger problem on their hands. Also, he might very well be the killer. He asked me if I had been scratched, if I had blacked out. Was that what happened to him?
    He buttoned his shirt again and ran his hand back and forth through his hair. “For someone who doesn’t believe, you seem to know what you saw.” He met my eyes. “As I said, you are going to tell me what you know.”
    I put a hand to one of my knives just in case. “If I do, I can’t protect you.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t need protection. I need to know what is happening.”
    I nodded. “Fine. Tell me the whole story about what happened to you, and I will answer your questions if I can.”
    His shoulders sagged and his eyes closed. Not exactly the response I expected. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again, the lines on his face deepening. He ran his hand over his hair again. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he