She also knew . . . Roberts wasn’t human. She’d caught the flash of fang when he’d been reviewing some of her evidence. The pictures of the mutilated shifters she’d taken from Wyatt’s desk—those had really pissed off the cop.
“We found him,” Roberts said with a shake of his head. “He was just where you said, lying with the stake next to his body and—”
Eve held up her hand. “Wait. Where was the stake?”
Roberts picked up a manila folder and thumbed through the notes. “Next to Wyatt’s left hand.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms. “When I left him, that stake was in his heart.” She’d made sure of it.
Someone else had gone back in that room. Someone who’d taken the stake out—why? To try and help Wyatt?
She looked up and found Roberts staring at her. “Maybe the . . . Subject Thirteen that you mentioned? Perhaps he pulled the stake out?”
No, he’d been the one to shove it into Wyatt’s chest . . . but Eve had claimed responsibility for that desperate act. She knew Cain wanted his anonymity, and she was trying to give it to him. Trying to protect him, as much as I can. Eve shook her head. “Maybe a guard, maybe someone else . . .” She exhaled. What did it matter? Wyatt was still dead. Genesis was a pile of rubble. Uncle Sam was cleaning up the mess.
“I want to put protection on you.”
Eve stilled. After a heartbeat of time, her palms curled around the sides of her chair. “This protection had better not involve me being locked up someplace.”
“A safe house—”
Eve shook her head, cutting through his words. “No.” Simple, flat. “I’m finishing my story, I can’t—”
“Every media outlet in the country is running with your story.”
Yes, she knew it. And that was pretty damn awesome.
“While most humans are coming out as being on our side”—Roberts rolled his shoulders and the faint lines bracketing his mouth deepened—“there are others who still think we’re just monsters who need to be put down. Those guys aren’t going to like all this attention and support you’re raising.”
“And I’m supposed to do—what?” Eve asked him, lifting her brows. “Cower somewhere because I might get some threats? I was nearly killed—over and over—in the last few days. I’m tough, detective. I can handle whatever comes my way.”
“Like you handled Subject Thirteen?”
She hadn’t seen that hit coming.
Roberts cocked his head to the side. “We found more files on him in that lab, you know. Wyatt believed that Thirteen had a sociopathic personality and that he was an extreme menace to the human population.”
“Yeah, well, Wyatt was also a lying sack of—”
The door opened. Another detective stood there. A balding guy with tired brown eyes. “She’s clear. Her lawyer just raised hell with the captain. Bradley gets to walk out now.”
Perfect.
Roberts swore. “You need protection.”
Eve leaned toward him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The other detective turned away.
Eve wasn’t about to let this drop. “You found something else at that lab, didn’t you?”
A muscle jerked in Roberts’s jaw and he gave a grim nod.
“Tell me.”
“It’s confidential. Can’t be leaked to the press and you—you’re the most famous reporter in the whole state right now.”
She stared back at him. “This might shock the hell out of you, Detective, but I’ve managed to keep some secrets in my time.” But if he didn’t want to tell her what had him so all-fired determined that she needed guards, fine.
Eve pushed away from the table and headed for the door.
“Like you kept the wolf’s secrets?”
Her breath burned in her lungs. Eve didn’t go out that door. She slammed it shut then spun to face the detective. “What do you know about him?”
“I saw Wyatt’s files on him.”
And? What? Was she going to have to pull the truth from the detective?
“Wyatt was working on a drug that would amp up a shifter’s physical strength.”
Yeah, Trace had sure looked like he’d been amped up. His muscles had bulged.
“Wyatt didn’t want shifters to transform into animals in order to get that power boost.” Roberts’s voice was low. “He wanted them to have that power, twenty-four seven.”
Eve waited.