Читать книгу Midnight's Master - Cynthia Eden - Страница 9

Cops weren’t exactly his friends. Never had been. Maybe because they looked at him and saw him for what he was.

A killer.

Niol tightened his grip on Holly’s arm as they headed toward the morgue. The scent of death was too strong down here, stopping up his nostrils with the cloying odor.

Holly was stiff beside him, her movements like those of a robot. She’d trembled when that shifter ass Gyth had told her about the body. One long, rolling tremble from head to toe. She’d said the poor bastard’s name, “Sam,” with a kind of wild despair.

Then she’d gotten control of herself—fast. Probably too damn fast. Now he saw a woman with a taut body. Expressionless face. Ice-cold hands.

He knew the name the cops had tossed out, of course. Sam Miters. Demon, level-seven. Niol made a habit of knowing all the demons in his city. Just for the sake of good business.

Unstable as all hell and an addict—old Sam had been an accident waiting to happen.

“You don’t need to come inside the viewing room,” Gyth said.

Niol grunted. The detective didn’t want him inside, but he didn’t give a damn.

Another demon had fallen on his streets. Niol wanted to see the body.

“I-I want him with me.” Holly’s voice, cool and hollow.

The lady was shaken. Two murders and an attempt on her own life, all within two short days. Yes, she had reason to be nervous.

Should have listened to me. Now hell’s coming down on her.

She looked up at him with those glittering green eyes. So green. Humans thought eyes were the window to the soul. They were wrong. As usual. Eyes lied.

Hers were lying now. She was trying to look strong and in control, when he knew she was close to breaking apart.

His left hand lifted and shoved open the door. “Let’s get this shit over with.” Before Holly broke.

And why do I care?

She was just another human.

Just. Another. Hu—

He heard the soft sigh of her breath. The little hitch that gave away her fear as she stepped forward.

The body was on the table in the middle of the room. Covered by a thin, white sheet. Niol could see two feet hanging off the slab, pale toes peeking over the edge of the sheet.

Tagged and bagged.

A woman with coal-black hair and skin of dark cream stepped forward. Niol recognized her immediately—Dr. Nathalia Smith. The medical examiner. She’d been in the papers after the Night Butcher case.

Smart, tough, and in the know about the Other.

Her gaze was on Holly, not him. Gyth crowded in behind him, and that jerkoff Brooks crossed to the good doctor’s side.

“Are you the next of kin?” Smith asked.

Holly shook her head. “A friend.”

Not really, as far as Niol knew. Old Sam hadn’t exactly been the friend type.

Smith’s stare turned to him. “And you are—”

“Forget him,” Brooks told her. “Just forget you ever saw him.”

“Not likely.” Her eyes were locked on his and Niol saw the shock on her face. The horror in her gaze. Her dark stare wasn’t full of lies—what she felt, it was right there for him to see. And that was a stare he recognized.

He smiled at her.

Her jaw clenched and she gave a jerky nod. Then her hands rose to the sheet and she eased it down, exposing the—

“God!” Holly jerked away from him and stumbled back, ramming into Gyth. “What the hell happened to him?” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

Gyth caught her shoulders, wrapping his fingers around her flesh and pulling her against him.

Niol tensed and the air thickened around him. Shifter had better back off, no one else touched her, no one—

Gyth caught his stare, and, smart bastard, read the warning in Niol’s eyes. He lifted his hands, palms up, and stepped away from Holly.

Niol glided toward Holly. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and—

Comfort her?

What the hell?

“What happened to him?” Holly repeated, her voice stronger and her eyes helplessly returning to the body. “His face, it’s been—”

Carved up. Cut with perfect precision. Long, slim slices.

Smith yanked the sheet back over him. “So you can identify the victim.”

A nod. “It’s Sam.”

Or what was left of him.

Niol’s nostrils twitched. He tried to shove the stench of blood and bleach out of his system as he focused on the body. There had to be something there, a scent left by the killer—

From the corner of his eye, he saw Holly sway.

He was on her in less than a second. Grabbing her, pulling her tightly against his chest.

And she fit, dammit. Her body matched his perfectly, and she felt right.

Even when she shuddered. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

Unlike him, she wasn’t used to dead bodies. Not enough dead bodies at her crime scenes.

If she intended to keep working the case, though, she’d get used to them. Fast.

He pushed her toward the door. They’d seen the body. Holly had completed the whole good-citizen routine. No sense wasting more time.

The door flew open with the force of Holly’s shove. She stumbled ahead of him. Poor human. She’d had one hell of day. Hit-and-run. Dead body.

Him.

The light shone on the tiled floor. “Thanks, Niol,” she muttered and some of the real Holly stared back at him from her green eyes. “I never thought I’d say this but I needed you in—”

“Not so fast, Ms. Storm.” The shifter’s voice. Quiet. Hard.

Niol glanced back at him. He had questions for the shifter, questions he’d rather not ask in front of a reporter.

Because while he wanted Holly like hell on fire—and he sure knew about hell—Niol didn’t trust her.

He didn’t trust anyone.

And that was why he was still alive.

Well, one of the reasons.

The human, Brooks, stepped out beside Gyth. “We’re gonna need to see you for a while in Interrogation.” A pause. “Both of you.”

Fuck.

They separated them. Stupid human manipulation. As if being apart would make them turn on each other. Spill secrets.

They had no secrets to spill.

The shifter stayed with him. Locked eyes on him and just stared.

Niol stared back.

After ten minutes, the cop spoke. “You killin’ your own kind again, demon?”

A shrug. He was sprawled in the chair, legs out in front of him, shoulders slumped.

Where was Holly? She’d handle herself; he knew she’d be fine. Once she shook off the horror of that dead body, Holly Storm would snap back to action.

But he wanted her close by. The better to watch and protect.

“Sam Miters was a demon, wasn’t he?” Gyth’s arms were crossed over his chest. Niol figured the guy was supposed to be intimidating, but he was just annoying.

Niol raised his brows. “Did the Monster Doctor tell you that?” The Monster Doctor, Dr. Emily Drake, the psychologist in town who treated all the Other with their myriad of problems. She could tell a paranormal with just one look. The lady could even recognize the power of the dead ones.

Handy little trick. One he’d like to have.

As it stood in the paranormal world, generally, like recognized like. He could stare right through the glamour that disguised most of his kind and find the demon beneath the skin. He knew witches felt the power surge when their kin were close. Shifters—they could smell their brethren, damn strong senses.

But Emily Drake, a human, she could discover all their secrets in less than a few seconds’ time.

And the fact that she was sleeping with the detective, well, that meant he had pretty much immediate access to Emily’s wonderfully interesting mind—and her powers.

“Don’t concern yourself with Emily,” Gyth growled.

Ah. Some real emotion from the detective. He was a possessive bastard, but most wolf shifters were. Possessive, and often psychotic.

“Why’d you do it? Why him? Did he piss you off?”

Niol sighed. He really didn’t have time for this crap. He needed to get Holly and get her home. Then he had to start hunting a killer. “Don’t look to me for this one.” His hands weren’t clean of blood, but, this time, the crime wasn’t his.

“Then who?” Gyth grabbed the chair across from Niol. Twisted it around and straddled it. “That first night, you knew the kid, and I think you knew who killed him, too.”

The detective was getting warmer, but still damn off track.

“Tell me, Niol, tell me. What the hell is going on in this city? Why am I stumbling over dead demons? And why are you sniffing around Storm?”

Because I want to sniff her. Sniff her, kiss her, take her. But that was none of the detective’s business.

“Don’t look to me,” Niol said again and rose. This interrogation was over. He didn’t have to put up with this shit.

“Then who?” A snarl.

“The humans, shifter. This time, the killer’s one of them.” He’d bet on it.

A human, killing demons.

The world just wasn’t safe anymore.

“Why’d Sam have your card?”

Holly blinked and tried to shove the image of Sam’s ravaged face out of her mind.

But she knew she’d be seeing that image in her nightmares for months.

Christ. Sam. “He—he was one of my sources.” No sense lying. She rubbed her eyes. Dammit, she hurt. Her body ached, her heart felt like it had been ripped out, and she wanted to get out of the cramped interrogation room with the flickering light that made her temples throb and just go back to the safety of her house.

“What kind of information was Sam feeding you?”

Her fingers dug into her forehead and she didn’t look at Todd Brooks. The guy was human, like her, but he was also very heavily involved in the demon world.

The guy’s girlfriend was a succubus, so yeah, in Holly’s book, that qualified as involved.

“Ms. Storm?” The groan of a chair’s legs as he yanked back the chair next to her and sat close, crowding her.

She hated being crowded.

“Just what kind of information was Sam giving you?”

Her hand dropped and she met his stare. That deceptively warm, I’ll-be-your-friend, come-on-trust-me brown stare. The good cop, to Colin Gyth’s badass. Right. Holly almost snorted. Both cops knew the game, and they’d do anything to catch their prey.

And now they thought she was that prey. “Sam was a demon.” She didn’t glance toward the shining mirror on the right wall. She knew somebody had to be behind that glass, watching her. Holly just hoped it was someone who knew the score, and not some paper pusher who was gonna try to get her committed to Reed Infirmary’s Psych ward in the next hour. “He was teaching me about his world.” Feeding her bits of information, one tiny crumb at a time.

He swore, then muttered, “Couldn’t you leave ’em alone? They nearly killed you before—”

“Not they.” Her jaw was clenched and she gritted the words. “He. One man.” Not all demons were killers; she’d learned that. Just as she’d learned all humans, even those who wore badges, weren’t to be trusted.

Just seven months ago, her cheating ex-fiancé had sure hammered that lesson home.

Holly drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. Todd wanted her to lose her cool. The guy thought she was involved in the murders, and, okay, she could even see where he was coming from. She’d been on the scene of the first crime, she’d known the guy was a demon—she’d known him. Carl had been one of her sources, just like Sam. Wouldn’t take a genius to connect the lines back to her.

But she hadn’t killed them. “Sam wasn’t a bad guy, okay? He was getting clean.” She sure knew how hard that had been. She’d watched her brother fight that battle, and fail. “He was harmless, he was—”

“Butchered.”

Holly flinched. She didn’t need that visual. Really didn’t. I’m so sorry, Sam. Until that last meeting, they’d always gotten along so well.

Until that last meeting…

Her heart didn’t slow down. It sped up as realization dawned.

Sam had been desperate to get her away from him. Because he’d known he was a target? And the hit-and-run right after she’d left him—no damn way would she buy that as a coincidence.

“When was the last time you saw Sam Miters alive?”

A quick swipe of her tongue over her lips. “Um, lunch.” Was that yesterday? She glanced at her watch. Nearing six A.M. “Yesterday.”

“And did he seem…agitated to you?”

Sweat coated her palms as she met his measuring stare. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“What exactly did he say in that meeting?”

Watch your pretty ass, Storm. Hell’s coming to town.

Her gaze held his.

Sam had known. He’d known that a killer was loose on the streets. But had he realized he’d be the next victim?

“What. Did. He. Say?” Voice harder now. More demanding. Good cop starting to disintegrate into bad. Her shoulders rolled in a shrug. Where was Niol? And why had Gyth wanted to question him? Did he think Niol was involved?

Then she remembered what Sam had muttered when she’d asked if Niol had warned him away from her.

“Niol’s involved? Fuck, I’m out of here.”

Oh, shit. Just what had she stumbled into?

“Storm.”

She blinked and realized Brooks was glaring at her. Time to answer the cop, or partially answer him, anyway. “He told me our arrangement was over. That I should lose his number.” Her wrist and arm were throbbing again. She could really use an aspirin. Nothing stronger because she never took pain pills or anything that might make her—

“And how did you respond?” His fingers tapped out a quiet rhythm on the table.

I asked if Niol had scared him. “He left. I got hit by a van.” A shrug that made her arm ache more. “End of story.” Not really. The real end had come when Sam got sliced to pieces.

Not the way he should have gone. Not right—for him or Carl.

“You’ve got two dead sources, Storm.” Storm. He always called her by that name. Whatever. She always thought of him as Brooks. Not exactly on a good, first-name basis. “Two dead, demon sources.”

Yeah, and she knew it looked bad. “I didn’t kill them.”

His brows rose. “I never said you did.”

Well, good. But why the hell was she in Interrogation when—

“But your new boyfriend…” A hard exhalation of air. “Now he’s another story.” His lips curved down. “You’re in over your head, lady. You don’t know just how dangerous your new lover is.”

Yes, she did. “I was there that night, detective.” A reminder the guy didn’t need. She knew he hadn’t forgotten one instance of that horror-filled night at Paradise Found. She sure hadn’t. “I saw Niol. I saw everything.” More than the detective had realized. His attention had been splintered. He’d been dealing with the approaching cops, trying to protect his succubus lover, and making sure the killer was down.

But her eyes had been on Niol. She’d seen him. She knew exactly how dangerous he was.

Niol didn’t need to rip and claw a man to shreds. He could use a stray thought to kill.

Level-ten demon. There wasn’t a more powerful being in the Other world.

She wasn’t going to pretend Niol was some kind of good guy. A demon with a pure heart. She knew what he was.

And wanted him anyway.

Talk about being screwed up.

“Niol’s got quite a temper,” Brooks murmured. “Maybe that temper got out of control. Maybe he didn’t like other demons being near you, so he eliminated the competition.”

Bullshit. If she and Niol were involved sexually, she doubted he would have considered a kid and a recovering drug addict to be much competition. Holly shook her head. “Niol didn’t even know I was working with them. And you’ve got the wrong idea, Niol and I—we—”

The door to the interrogation room opened with a squeak. Easily, softly. Niol stood in the doorway, arms hanging loosely at his sides. “It’s time to leave, Holly.”

She blinked. “Ah—”

“What the hell?” Brooks shot to his feet. “Get out of here, asshole! I’m questioning her—”

“Not anymore.” Niol’s gaze raked over Holly. “You all right?”

Was that a thread of concern in his voice? Holly pushed back from the table, rising on legs that should have been steadier, but—

It had been one hell of a night. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

She tried to walk around Brooks, but his hand caught her wrist. “We’re not finished.”

A growl. And one that didn’t come from the shifter standing just behind Niol.

No, it came from Niol. “You don’t want to do that,” he said, and the words were dark and rumbling.

The air around her suddenly felt thicker, colder—and then Todd’s hand was gone. Almost…wrenched away.

The cop swore and stumbled away from her. “I’m not in the mood for your tricks, Niol!”

“And I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.” He crossed the cramped space and took Holly’s hand. “We gave you half an hour. Answered your questions like the damn good citizens we are—now we’re leaving.”

A muscle flexed along his jaw. His voice was controlled, but Holly realized Niol was seriously pissed.

“Yeah, he’s got quite a temper,” Todd said again and tossed a calculating glance her way. “You sure that you want to leave with him, Storm?”

Niol’s fingers caressed the skin over her wrist. A light, gentle touch. One he didn’t even seem to be aware of making.

Her pulse jumped under that touch, a hard spike.

Niol turned to meet her stare.

Such dark eyes. A perfect black.

Was his soul like that, too? Was she making a huge mistake?

“I didn’t kill Carl or Sam.” The words were too loud, as if they were directed at the cops, but Niol’s eyes were for her only. “Holly knows that.”

“You’ve killed in the past,” Gyth said, stalking into the room.

Niol finally looked away from her. “Prove it.”

“Fuck.”

Holly saw the shark’s smile on the demon’s face. “Now get out of my way—and stay out of my way.”

For a moment, Gyth’s eyes seemed to brighten, taking on a wild glow, but he clenched his jaw and stepped aside.

Niol and Holly headed for the door.

“Screw him, but don’t trust him.” The warning from Gyth had her stopping a foot away from the exit. “You’re not up to playing his games.”

The detective didn’t know her very well. She gave him a hard grin, her own version of a shark’s smile. “Yes, I am.” She was tired of the warnings. The bullshit. She knew what she was dealing with when it came to Niol, and she knew that he was the one she needed to help her solve this mess.

Keeping her head up, she walked out of that too-tight room and down the halls of the station, with her demon at her side.

“That went piss poor.” Captain Danny McNeal eased back in his seat and glared at his two best detectives. He’d watched the interrogations and knew that as far as the case was concerned, they’d just gotten jack and shit.

“The woman would have talked,” Collin said. “If the demon hadn’t gotten to her—”

“No.” Danny was certain of this. “You’re not giving her enough credit.” That woman was good at keeping secrets—he’d seen it in her eyes.

Why was she with the demon?

A soft knock sounded at his door, and then, almost instantly, the knob turned and Nathalia Smith strode into the room.

He tried not to look at her legs. Long, long legs. The skirt she’d worn today had been driving him crazy—ever since she’d given him that come-and-get-me smile as she pulled it on this morning, right after they’d gotten out of his shower.

But that smile wasn’t on her face now. Her plump lips, sin sexy, were turned down and her eyes had narrowed to near slits. “We’ve got a problem,” she announced, lifting a file.

Two problems, the way Danny saw it. Two dead bodies.

Colin and Todd glanced toward her.

“Some things are missing.”

“Things?” Danny repeated softly, really not liking where this was going. Nathalia, well, Smith to the rest of the PD, took care of the stiffs. She was the best ME he’d ever met. The best-looking, too, but that was just a perk. The woman had a freaking genius-level IQ.

She’d also been through hell recently, courtesy of a sick fuck who’d terrorized the city, but she was clawing her way back to normalcy.

Or, what amounted to normalcy in this world.

He took the folder from her, leafed through the pages, and knew that his blood pressure was rising even before the pounding began in his temples. “Shit. Tell me you’re not sayin’—”

“The killer did a brutal job on them—Miters doesn’t have a heart anymore, and Bronx is missing a kidney.”

“What?” The shock was from Todd. Understandable. Like Nathalia, he was a human. Still capable of being shocked, even though he was mated to a demon.

“Why the hell would someone take organs?” The disgust, that came from Colin. Colin was a damn fine detective. His shifter senses made him a state-of-the-art hunter, and few prey ever escaped him.

“Because we’ve got another sick freak on the streets,” Danny growled, and knew it was the absolute truth. Hell, just great. Someone was slicing demons, stealing body parts, and a reporter was right in the middle of the whole stinking mess.

His luck was always fuck poor.

And this was the last story that he wanted to see headlining the evening news.

“Who knows this?” There were leaks in his department, leaks in every department. And Niol had too many contacts. His demons were everywhere, even in the Atlanta PD.

Those demons—they kept the peace, upheld the law, and kept Niol fully informed at all times.

“I came straight to you,” Nathalia said softly.

His shoulders eased, just a bit. He lifted his hand and pointed at his detectives. “This won’t stay quiet for long.” Maybe a few days, if they were lucky. “When the media gets wind of this—”

“They’ll have the whole city scared shitless,” Colin finished.

Todd rose to his feet. “Not necessarily a bad thing. Not with some asshole out there slicing up his kills.”

What the hell had happened to his city? In the last few years, the crimes had just become more violent. The killers more sadistic.

Maybe there were too many Other these days. Too many monsters with too much power.

Humans had forgotten to fear the creatures in the darkness and that was a mistake.

Because those monsters…they were in the mood to play and kill.

“Get Emily in on this,” he ordered. Emily Drake, the psychologist with the power to touch the minds of Other. The only woman who could profile a paranormal killer.

Oh, yeah, they sure as shit needed Emily on this one.

“Get her in here, and find this bastard.”

Before he killed again…and the story made the lead on the evening news.

Holly wasn’t talking to him. She didn’t speak during the ride back to her house. Didn’t open her mouth when he walked her to the front door of her place.

Women and the silent treatment—what a deadly weapon.

Niol sighed and waited for her to unlock the door. The sun was up, getting ready to drift across the sky. He could see the shadows of the bruises on her flesh and anger hummed within him.

The door swung open and Holly glanced back at him. “Niol…”

Ah, finally. She spoke. He could tell by her expression that Holly was seconds away from telling him to get lost.

He’d do just that, after he had his turn to speak. He crowded against her, pretty much forcing Holly to either step back or get real close and intimate with him.

He wouldn’t have minded the close and intimate part, not at all, but Holly moved back.

With a shove of his foot, he slammed the door. “We need to get some things settled between us.”

Her eyes widened. “Us? I didn’t think there was an ‘us.’ I thought there was just you telling me to stay the hell out of demon business.”

The rules had changed.

He reached for her.

She flinched back.

Oh, hell, no. “I didn’t kill those two men,” he gritted. Those cops—they’d planted the fear in her mind. He’d have to remember to pay them back for that.

“Why were you—why were you at the scene of Carl’s death?”

Because Carl had called him and asked him for a meeting. If he’d arrived earlier, he might have been able to save the kid.

Instead of finding all that blood.

“I’ve killed, Holly. You know that.” And not just that psychotic incubus who’d attacked her in that alley. “I’ve never claimed to be one of the good guys.” He wasn’t like Gyth or Brooks, out keeping the peace and locking up the bad guys. Not his style of justice. “But I don’t kill innocents.”

Her lips twisted into a ghost of a smile. No dimple, dammit. “Oh, Niol, I know you’re not good. I’ve known that from the beginning.”

But she’d walked into his lair anyway. Smelling of fear and sin. Tempting him.

“I don’t trust you,” she told him.

Good. “I wasn’t on that street to hurt Carl,” Niol said. Time for some truth. “I was there to help him.”

“How?”

“Someone was after him. Carl wanted protection.” He could still hear the kid’s voice. H-he’s following me, Niol. Hunting me.

“Wait! You knew Carl was in trouble? Did you tell Gyth? If someone was stalking him—”

“Two demons are dead.” Flat, cold. “This isn’t police business, it’s my business.”

“Because, what? You’re judge, jury, and executioner for the demons in this city? Come on, you—”

“Yes, I am.” His voice cut across the tumble of her words.

And seemed to stop her cold.

“Niol…” Holly shook her head. “Don’t try to give me any warnings about stepping back from this case, okay? I get it—these are your pissing grounds, but they were my friends. They trusted me. I’m not going to drop this case until I find out who killed them.”

He knew that. He also knew that it was too late for Holly to back off. “You’re the link, love.” A link he’d use.

She swallowed, but didn’t reply, and he knew she already understood.

Two dead sources.

One hit-and-run.

He would have needed to be blind not to have made the connection. “The killer’s got you in his sights, Holly.”

She didn’t deny it.

“The question is…why?” She wasn’t a demon, but maybe, just maybe, she’d learned something about the demon world that should have remained secret.

“You’re telling me one of the Other is hunting me now?” Her breath came too fast. “Great. What? Do I have a vampire on my trail? A crazy-ass shifter? A—”

“Human.”

Silence.

Then, “Run that by me again.”

“Carl told me a human was dogging his steps.” If only he’d gotten the bastard’s name…but Carl had been sliced to pieces before he could give away that information. “This time, the killer is one of yours.”

“Hell.”

Hmm…who said monsters were just demons and shifters? Humans had monsters living and breathing in their bodies. Sometimes, the humans were worse than the Other.

Much, much worse.

Holly turned away from him and began to pace the length of her den. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Turning, turning—

She spun around and pinned him with a fierce look.

And grinding to a halt.

“I don’t want to be jerked around by you anymore.” The hum of anger vibrated beneath the words. “You should have told me this from the beginning.”

Maybe, but he wasn’t big on trust, either. “I think the hit-and-run was a warning.” Niol figured there was no other way to look at it. If the killer had wanted Holly to die yesterday, well, she would have been found carved up with Sam.

His hands fisted and a vase shattered to his left.

“What? Jesus, Niol, what are you doing?” Holly ran back to his side and bent to pick up the shards of glass. “Nice. This was a gift from—”

He grabbed her hands, heedless of the glass. Niol pulled her to her feet, kept her close. His nostrils flared as her scent teased him.

If Holly had been the one in that morgue…

“Niol?” Her gaze searched his.

He swallowed back the rage. “You still want to team up on this thing?” Because she couldn’t hunt the killer on her own, not when she would be walking in both worlds.

Human and Other.

A grim nod. “You know I do. I don’t have your contacts.”

But she had some. For a human, she’d done a good job of slipping into the realm hidden by darkness.

Besides, if he was right, they didn’t really need to explore too much in the demon realm.

“You want in my world. I want in yours.”

“What are you proposing?”

Her skin felt so soft beneath his fingers. Delicate. He could hurt her, if he wasn’t careful.

But he’d be careful with Holly Storm. Very, very careful. He’d gain her confidence, and in time he’d get…her.

She’d been a fire in his blood for too long. Time to get rid of the gnawing hunger and past time to stop a killer.

Luckily, he had the perfect plan for meeting both goals.

He lowered his head. Brought his mouth inches away from hers. “Tell me, Holly, are you in the mood for a new lover?”

Her breath hissed out.

“I’ll take that as a yes. The cops already think we’re together.” They could keep thinking that. It would be the perfect cover. “You can talk to the demons this way, find out if any of them know anything about Sam or Carl.” No demon in Atlanta would dare to touch her once he’d staked his claim.

“And what do you get from the arrangement?” Husky. Dammit. Sexy.

He got more fantasies. More hard-ons. And maybe, just maybe, the fuck he’d been dreaming of for all these long months.

If he played the game right, he’d also catch a killer. “I get enough.” That was all he’d say, for now.

His eyes lingered on her mouth. She had a great mouth. He loved her bottom lip. Niol wanted to kiss her. To taste the lips so close to his.

And he was more than used to doing exactly as he wanted.

So he took her mouth.

A deep, long kiss. Lips and tongue. Craving. Hunger.

Her lips were warm and soft, and her response—fuck.

She kissed him with fury. With wild need.

Nothing tentative about her.

His cock, already semiaroused, swelled against the front of his jeans.

He wanted her naked. The bed was close. He could take her into the bedroom. Strip her, and make the fantasy he’d been suggesting into a reality.

It would be so easy.

Holly pushed against him, her nails biting into his chest.

Maybe not.

His head raised. He could still taste her sweetness on his tongue.

“What is it that you want from me, Niol?”

Everything.

“I want to stop the killer, same as you.” He forced his hands to free her and he stepped back. He’d been careful not to jar her. He didn’t want to hurt her.

She must have felt his cock straining against her when they’d kissed. The woman knew she’d gotten him turned on and ready.

But he’d pulled back.

For now. “So what’s it gonna be, love? Do you want to hunt with me?”

“Yes.” Instant. “But we do this together, you got me, demon? No more secrets, no more lies. Together.”

He wasn’t going to make any promises. His life was all about secrets and lies.

“Then welcome to the wild side, Holly.” She’d better get ready for one rough ride.