Midnight's Master

by Cynthia Eden

  “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.”

&nbs
p; “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, w
ell, 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.