I shifted my gaze to Vas. He stretched his wings and took a single step closer to Clint. He let out a shriek and cringed away from him. “All I know is she’s into some bad shit, okay? I asked around.”

“Last name?”

“I don’t know.

“What does she look like?”

“I dunno, Jesus, don’t hurt me!”

Vas took another step closer and Clint flinched. “Okay, okay. I might’ve gotten a picture of her face.”

“You might’ve? You’re pissing me off, Clint.”

“Okay, I did.”

“Where is it?”

“On my phone.”

I did not want to fish his phone out of those jeans. Vas gave me a look that said there was no chance in hell he was doing it.

I sighed. Luckily, Clint’s phone was sticking mostly out of his back pocket thanks to all his writhing around on the chair. I popped it out and unlocked it as Clint rattled off the combination.

I scrolled through his photos. “You fucking perve.”

He’d obviously set up some kind of camera in his bathroom, and this Cassie woman was pulling off her blouse. She had another shirt on the counter in front of her, and her top half was only covered by her bra.

A paranormal would’ve likely found the camera, but as a human, she’d had no idea.

I looked up from the phone and my power exploded.

23

Danica

Power poured from me, darkening the room as I clamped my hand around Clint’s throat. I’d kill him for daring to think he could record a woman— any woman— without her permission. I’d skin him alive with my power, and hang him from Samael’s tower as a warning to any other man who thought they could fuck with the women of this city. My city.

“Danica. Danica, you’re killing him. He might have more information.”

I focused on one finger at a time, slowly loosening them. Clint’s eyes were bloodshot. “Please,” he mouthed.

I managed to let go, but I couldn’t pack my power away. It tangled around Clint, eager to make him pay.

“Talk.”

He could barely speak. Vas folded his arms and we both watched as he attempted to get the words out.

“Contacted me,” he finally mouthed. “Recent calls.”

I scrolled through the phone, holding it up until he nodded. I added the number to my own phone, and then I checked his messages.

He’d shared the photo of Cassie with several of his friends. They’d started a message thread, filled with lewd jokes.

“How’d you get her to take her top off in your bathroom, Clint? You spill something on her?”

Clint stared at me, his expression resigned.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, okay! It’s just a harmless prank!”