Gaby pushed Cross away, and to her surprise, he allowed the distance. He even stepped back to give her room. “What is it?” he asked again.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Okay.” He turned a full circle, searching the area. He held his body in the deceptively relaxed pose of someone who knew how to kick serious ass.
Moderating her strained breathing, keeping her thoughts calm and free, Gaby took her time scanning the area. She detected the commonplace turbulence of humans out on this muggy, electric night—but not the red-hot evil she sought…
Until she again faced Cross.
It lurked behind him, in the playground.
Stepping around the detective, Gaby strode determinedly toward the evil, and sensed it taking flight, evading her, running from her.
Like a candle, once snuffed, only a wisp of smoke remained as a reminder of the flame. Gaby wanted to follow, to hunt the malignant corruption and chase it to ground, but damn it, Cross stood there, watching her, waiting.
Because she couldn’t risk him or her secrets, knowing that with him observing her every move she couldn’t proceed, she cast him a quelling glare.
“Fascinating,” he said, without a speck of humor. “Now tell me what the hell is going on.”