Sin caught it and gripped the smooth metal beneath the inscriptions. “Okay, it’s part of a sword. What about it?”
Detective Petrakis sat very still, staring at the artifact in her hand, and then slumped back into his chair. “Guess I had it wrong.”
“Guess so,” she said, knowing she wasn’t meant to follow his line of conversation by the way his gaze grew distant and lifted beyond her shoulder. “Look, I have some questions for you.”
The detective stood abruptly and held out his hand for the artifact. “Sorry to have taken u
p your time.”
Sin reached automatically to place it back in his palm but snatched it back at the last moment. “You’re really not going to clue me in on what happened the other night?”
His lips slid into a tight smile. “I have to get to work. I believe you have a shift starting in an hour. You’re gonna be late.”
“You can call and square it with my supervisor,” she said slowly, “seeing as how you’re the reason I’m gonna be late. I still have questions.”
“I read your report. I’ll let you look at mine. Now, I really do have to go.”
Sin stood, annoyed at being dismissed. “If we didn’t meet the other night then how do I know what you look like naked?”
One dark, perfectly arched brow rose. “A good imagination? I’m flattered.” He held out his hand again, and Sin grudgingly placed the handle across his palm. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door.
Her stomach continued to knot. She knew if she let him leave, she’d lose her one last chance to find out what she’d really experienced. “I saw his face,” she blurted, “before he went into that alley. He didn’t look human.”
Petrakis’s hand paused on the doorknob. “What exactly did you see?” he asked softly.
“I heard him first. Back at the coin shop. He growled like a mountain lion. When he reached a streetlamp, he looked back at me. His face…it kind of bled away in streaks of color.”
Detective Petrakis looked over his shoulder, his gaze so intense, she had a moment’s doubt she should have mentioned it.
“Have you seen anything like him before?”
She nodded. “A homeless guy, just before we got the call from dispatch.”
A low, filthy curse passed between his thinning lips. Holding her gaze, he turned and leaned his back against the door. “Sinead O’Rourke, I think I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
From his grim expression, Detective Petrakis wasn’t very happy with her revelation. He closed his eyes, cursed softly again, and then seemed to come to a decision.
Everything after that happened quickly. He bundled her into his car without a word, told her to keep her questions to herself until he had a chance to consult with someone else, then took her back to the coin shop.
Just as before, the shop appeared empty when they entered.
“He really needs to think about hiring some help,” Sin muttered.
A muffled voice sounded from the back room, and the little, wiry shopkeeper appeared, blinking first at the detective, and then stiffening when he saw Sin. “More questions for me, Officer?”
“You’ve been back here?” the detective asked, suspicion in his deepening tone.
She shrugged. “Like he said, I had some questions.”
“About the artifact,” the shopkeeper interjected, his eyebrows rising as he shared a charged glance with the detective.
Both men turned to stare at Sin.
She shifted, uncomfortable beneath their scrutiny. “So what?”
“She sees demons, Athanasius,” Petrakis said. “Skinwalkers, to be precise.”
The shopkeeper’s expression froze, and his gaze returned to sweep her head to foot. “But she’s human. Isn’t she? Did you confirm it?”