Midnight Sins tmt-2

by Синтия Иден

  Because she knew he was evil. All the way to the core.

  But so was she.

  Carefully, slowly, she began to kneel down. Before she’d shot out of town, she’d stopped at the pawnshop and picked up a new knife—one that was strapped on her ankle and sharpened to kill. Susan liked knives—liked having them close. She had since she was seventeen, when she’d used the sweet, sharp blade of her mother’s steak knife to stab her stepfather right in his heart.

  Right after the bastard had made the mistake of touching her again.

  Just a few more inches, and she’d have the knife. She knew the demon’s weak spots, and even if she couldn’t take him down, she could hurt him enough to get away and—

  He lunged for her. Grabbed her right hand. Broke her wrist with a twist of his fingers.

  She didn’t cry out. She’d stopped doing that years ago. Susan stared up into his black eyes and choked down the pain.

  He yanked her up against him. “You’ve been playing without me, sweetheart.” He leaned in close, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and inhaled her scent. “I can still smell the blood on your skin.”

  She’d washed for hours. Scrubbed until her flesh was sore. But those damn demons, they could smell a speck of blood from a mile away.

  Or so the stories said.

  Susan thought the stories were half bull, but one thing was undeniable—the demon knew what she’d been up to while he’d been watching other prey. “Tommy deserved to die.” He’d turned his back on her. Her. Tried to walk away and leave her behind.

  No one did that. Not anymore.

  And Tommy had sure changed his tune once she’d started using her knife on him. He’d been begging for her forgiveness then.

  But she hadn’t been in a forgiving mood.

  “Thomas Monroe wasn’t on my list, Susan.” His touch was ice cold.

  She’d liked that in the beginning. Liked the chill and the rush that he gave her.

  When they’d started killing, she’d liked him even better. It was only lately that she’d begun to worry about him, and to wonder—

  What did the good-looking demon who carried the scent of sex and death have planned for her?

  “He wasn’t supposed to die.”

  “Yeah, well, he was on my list.” She should probably be playing this differently. Acting cowed. Scared.

  Not her style, even though fear squeezed her heart.

  The demon smiled down at her, and his scent thickened in the air around them. Helplessly, she felt her body begin to respond. Her nipples tightened. Her sex creamed.

  “You were such a surprise to me, sweetheart.” He leaned his head toward her. Kissed her lips. Pushed her back even harder against the plastic phone. “So beautiful.”

  His words were a lie. She knew it. Yeah, she was pretty. She’d used that physical appeal more times than she could count in the past, but he hadn’t wanted her because she was pretty.

  He’d wanted her because she looked like the other woman, Cara.

  She’d fixed that demon whore. Cara would be ending up in jail soon.

  “You left evidence behind. Very, very sloppy of you, sweetheart.”

  So she wasn’t as smart as he was. Not as good at cleaning up. “The cops don’t have anything on me.” She forced a smile. “They think it’s that singer, Cara. I just called the detective, you know, the one who’s been watching her at the club…”

  His hand dropped to her throat. Caressed the skin. “And?”

  “I-I told him that her alibi was crap. That the people at the club were lying.” Her heartbeat began to steady as hope raised its head. Maybe she could smooth the situation over with him. He wanted Cara to take the fall for the killings. She’d just given him the other woman on a silver platter.

  Surely that made up for a little extra murder?

  His fingers began to squeeze her throat. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

  The pain of his steely grasp brought tears to her eyes. She blinked, trying to block the moisture from falling. She could get out of this mess. There was still time.

  But her heart had started to race again.

  “He’s screwing her now,” he spat the words at her. “When you called Detective Brooks, she was in his bed.” A laugh. Cold. Deadly. “She would have heard everything you said. She’ll know what’s happening now, Susan. She’ll start hunting you.”

  “W-won’t…f-find…m-me…” Talking was hard with his fingers digging into her windpipe. She barely managed to gasp out the words.

  Then his hand was gone and she dragged air into her lungs, sucking in the oxygen desperately.

  “Of course, she will. Demons are very, very good at hunting. Almost as good as those fucking animal shifters.”

  But that Cara, she was just a piece of fluff. Susan wasn’t scared of her. She’d cut the demon up, just like she’d cut Tommy—

  He laughed at her. “You still don’t understand what you’re up against, do you?”

  Now she was getting pissed. “I…understand th-that you…need me.” He couldn’t kill without her. She was the bait. The perfect setup. Though the demon might be furious, he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. “Look, I th-think…the rules between us…need to change.” The sex was great. Hell, sex was always great after a kill. And he’d been giving her money. Gotten her a nicer place.

  But now the shift of power was about to turn, in her favor. Susan let a smile curve her lips.

  His eyes narrowed. “Actually, Susan, I don’t need you anymore at all.”

  Just like that, her fate was sealed.

  She shoved against him, hard, seeing her death in the darkness of his gaze. The bastard laughed again and stepped back, and she managed to twist and yank her knife from its sheath. “You stay the hell back!” She had to hold the blade with her weaker left hand—no way could she use her right now.

  “Aw, Susan, why do you want to fight me?” That charming, deceitful smile was on his face. She’d always thought humans lied well, but they couldn’t even come close to matching demons.

  “Get out of my way!” He was blocking the entrance to the phone booth. But if she could make him move, she could run, maybe make it to her car—

  It hit her then. His scent. Teasing her nostrils. Sex. Power.

  No, damn it, no!

  Helplessly, she felt her body respond even more to him.

  “You don’t want to use that knife on me.” His voice became even deeper.

  Damn demon power.

  She hated demons.

  The hand gripping the knife began to lower.

  “Good girl.”

  No. She’d stopped being a good girl the night her bastard of a stepfather had climbed into her bed.

  “You want me, don’t you, Susan?” Still using that hypnotic power of his.

  Her nipples were so hard they ached. Her legs trembled. She managed a nod.

  “And you don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

  Oh, but she did.

  He lifted his hand toward her as he closed the space between them. His fingers trailed over her breast. Plucked the nipple. “Kiss me, Susan.”

  Her mouth, open, met his. The kiss was far too hard, far too rough, and she felt the copper of blood on her tongue.

  The she felt the press of his hand against her chest.

  Right over her heart.

  No! The scream echoed in her mind even as she continued to helplessly kiss him back.

  His lips lifted. “I’m gonna drain you,” he whispered, and sounded like a lover with a caress in his voice. “Every drop of power from you—I’m gonna take it. Then I’m gonna leave your corpse to rot.” Another bruising kiss.

  Then she felt it. The slow stir of magic in the air. No, God, no, she wouldn’t go out like this.

  With every ounce of strength she had, Susan focused on her left hand. She just needed to break the demon’s power. If he lost his concentration, the pheromones would weaken, and she’d be able to fight more—

  And not just tw
ist and moan eagerly like a bitch in heat against him.

  “Ah, Susan, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you, then to kill you.”

  The fingers of her left hand trembled as they tightened around the knife.

  Distract him. “I-I can still…help you,” she managed. “I-I can get…more men. Don’t—”

  He laughed at her. Laughed. “I told you, Susan.” His hands cupped her cheeks. “I don’t need you anymore.”

  She’d screwed up. Played with the devil when she wasn’t ready for hell. “B-but I-I can give…you the n-next man on…y-your list! I-I can give y-you…T-Todd Brooks—”

  “You already have.” He smirked at her. “Thanks for the gift.”

  Oh, he’d be thanking her. Her breath caught, sweat beaded her brow, and she managed to lift the knife and plunge it into his side.

  Startled, the demon cried out, then stumbled back.

  His scent eased, just for a moment, and her head cleared.

  Snarling, she plunged the knife straight into his chest. His cry of pain was music to her ears. Susan yanked the blade out and drove it deep again.

  Blood sprayed across the phone booth. Dripped down the glass.

  She drove the knife into his chest once more. Furious. Desperate. He should be going down. Weakening.

  Susan lifted the knife, prepared for another hard thrust.

  His fingers flew out and locked around her throat. “Bitch.” His breath was ragged. “I’m not one of your fucking humans, Susan.” He shook her, slamming her head back against the glass. Stars exploded before her eyes. Bloodred stars. “It takes a hell of a lot more than a few knife wounds to kill me.”

  She’d see what it took, Susan thought, her world a blur of pain and blood. She’d keep stabbing him until the bastard went down. Straining, she struggled to bring the knife between them.

  He should have been weak. His blood was all around her. On her skin. Soaking her clothes. Covering the glass of the booth.

  His hold tightened around her throat. The knife was slippery in her hand, wet from too much blood. If she could just—

  “I’m glad you came out here, sweetheart,” he gritted the words and glared down at her with black eyes. “Nice deserted spot. No one around for miles. The perfect place to die.”

  Her thundering heart shook her entire body. “Don’t! Just—”

  Too late. He jerked his hand, twisting her head hard to the right and breaking her neck in one fast move.

  The knife slipped from her hand and landed on the floor of the phone booth with a clatter.

  He held her a moment, enjoying the feel of her twisted neck beneath his fingers. Then he smiled and let her body fall.

  Todd was called to the crime scene on Thomas Boulevard the next morning at a little after 8 A.M. When he’d awoken, Cara had been gone, and he wondered for the fifth time since leaving his place why the woman had disappeared on him without a word.

  He pulled his car to a stop, jumped out, automatically reached for the latex gloves he’d brought in his jacket, only to be stopped short by Colin.

  There was worry in his eyes. “Where’s Cara?”

  Todd frowned at that. “Hell if I know.” But he’d be finding out, soon.

  Colin’s lips tightened. “When did you see her last?”

  What the hell? “Is this another hit by our killer? Damn it, I wondered why we got the call on this one.” So what was happening? There wasn’t a hotel around, but had the Bondage Killer struck again? And was Colin trying to pin this one on Cara? Not gonna happen. “Look, man, Cara has an alibi, she was with me last night.”

  “With you?”

  “Yeah, at my place, in my bed, until seven this morning.” When he’d heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.

  “I wasn’t saying she committed this crime—”

  “Then what were you—”

  Colin grunted. “You sure she was with you until seven?”

  What the fuck? “Yeah.”

  His shoulders seemed to relax. “Thought it was her at first, but the smell was off, the freckles weren’t right and—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Blue eyes held his. “Go see for yourself.”

  Well, he’d been trying to do just that when Colin had stopped him. Shouldering past his partner, Todd headed for the phone booth just beyond the crossing lines of yellow tape. Even from the distance, he could see the blood lining the glass. “Shit. Someone really did a number on the vic—”

  “Not the victim’s blood,” Colin said from behind him. “The victim died from a broken neck.”

  He was at the phone booth now. Todd glanced down, and felt as if he’d just taken a knife to the chest. “She…looks like Cara.” Not a perfect match. But the hair was the same. The nose. The brow. This woman’s chin was bit more curved and she had a line of freckles on her nose, but—damn, it was a close resemblance.

  “The uniforms on scene recognized her from the station…or they thought they did. They called the captain—he told me to get down here ASAP.”

  It could have been Cara.

  The woman looked so much like her that she could have been her sister.

  A woman who was a copy of Cara, murdered near a phone booth just hours after his mystery call.

  No damn way that was a coincidence. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Have you run the phone records?”

  “Just sent out the order.” A pause. “When I got the call from McNeal, he told me not to notify you yet. I-I didn’t know what was happening, and I thought you should be in the loop—” Colin broke off, shaking his head. “Man, if I’d known that he thought it was your lady, I never would have called you in—”

  Your lady. The remorse in Colin’s voice was undeniable. “It’s not Cara.” But, what if it had been? What if he’d arrived and found her bloodstained body, lying broken in the phone booth.

  No. His hands fisted. He wasn’t even gonna think about shit like that. His lady, as Colin had so aptly put it, was a strong demon. No one would hurt her.

  No one. Todd forced his gaze away from the woman’s face. Sweat beaded his brow.

  Do the job.

  He had to focus. Do what needed to be done.

  Then he could get the hell out of there.

  Not Cara.

  He moved forward, being careful not to disturb the victim. His gaze locked on the small identification square just below the phone. The plastic screen that covered the phone number for the booth was spattered with blood, but he could still make out the numbers.

  He exhaled heavily. A damn match. He turned his attention to a still shaken-looking Colin. “I think you’re going to find my number was the last one dialed.”

  “What?”

  “I got a call last night, this morning, hell, around four a.m.” The call could’ve come moments before the victim’s time of death. “A woman told me that Cara’s alibis were crap. That the staff at Paradise Found were lying.”

  “And why would they be doing that?”

  “Because Niol told them to.”

  “Shit.”

  “The call came from this number.” He pointed to the small sign. This case just kept throwing him one damn surprise after another. He whistled as he glanced around the booth and saw nothing but blood. “The lady must have done a hell of a number on her attacker.”

  Thank God it hadn’t been Cara.

  “There was a knife beside her body,” Colin said. “It’s already been tagged and bagged.”

  The stench of blood had him swallowing and stepping back. Well, a knife would explain the blood, if…“Shouldn’t there be another dead body here?” He asked quietly. Someone had sure bled out like a stuck pig, and no human could survive that kind of blood loss.

  No human. He met Colin’s stare, understanding hitting him with the force of a blow right to the face.

  “It takes a lot to kill certain people,” was all Colin said.

  Not people. Other.

  Sonofabitch. “Just how
fast,” he asked quietly, too quietly for the other cops to hear, “do demons heal?”

  “From wounds like this?” Colin exhaled, then said, “A couple of days. Unless it’s one of the level-tens—and even for one like that, healing would take some time—at least twenty-four hours.”

  Then he’d better move, fast. “You got this scene secured?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got the scene. Smith’s on her way. So is the captain.” He whistled. “Bastard’s gonna bawl my ass out when he finds out you were here.” A wince. “What I deserve, though, man, I’m sorry, if it had been her—”

  “It wasn’t.” He turned away from the body. The scene would be safe. He could trust Colin to handle this end for him.

  Todd yanked off his gloves and began heading for his car, his long strides almost a run.

  “Brooks! Damn it! Wait!”

  He paused, but only for a moment. “If the killer can heal as fast as you say, then time’s running out, partner.” Every minute that passed was more time for the killer to heal. “You lead things here.”

  “And where are you going?”

  He turned his head and met Colin’s stare. His partner wasn’t going to like this. “I’m heading to Paradise.”

  Colin started cursing. “No, wait, not without backup—”

  “Take care of the body,” he said. “And this time, I’ll take care of Niol.”

  The bastard really hadn’t been on his list of suspects, until that call came last night. After mentioning the demon’s name, the lady had met one hell of a violent end.

  Coincidence? He didn’t buy those anymore.

  Oh, yeah, it was past time for him to see the devil.

  And to find out if he bled.

  “I want to see your boss.” The two assholes at the door just smirked at Todd when he gave his order.

  I’m not in the damn mood for this. He brushed back the edge of his jacket, let his holster show. “I said I want to see your fucking boss.”

  They stopped smirking. The big, bald one—Jesus, did that guy ever sleep?—stepped toward him, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. “Niol’s busy now.”

  Busy doing what? Trying to staunch the flow of blood from knife wounds? “Let me in.” No, he didn’t have a warrant, probably couldn’t even get one, but he wasn’t leaving until he talked to Niol.