by Cynthia Eden
“But he is wanted by Cara.”
Cameron’s mouth snapped closed. The handsome face turned almost ugly for a moment. “He’s what she wants ... now.”
“Ah, so you don’t think that ... wanting will last?”
“Not for Cara.” Absolutely certain. Then his gaze sharpened. “Wait, you never said—is Cara okay? Is she? Or has that asshole cop done something to—”
“She’s fine.”
His shoulders relaxed.
Colin’s gaze raked over the demon’s body. “I need you to lift up your shirt for me, Cameron.” It was the same request he’d made to the last two demons. Right after they’d finished their explanations and alibis.
He wasn’t going to wait for the alibi spin with this guy—he was ready to cut to the chase with old Cameron. No sense listening to false stories from this guy when a simple test would tell the truth about him.
Susan Dobbs had fought like a wildcat. Her knife had found its mark over and over on her killer. And, yeah, demons healed fast, but an incubus wasn’t a level-ten, and it would take time—a hell of a lot longer than twenty-four hours–for the wounds to heal.
If Cameron had killed Susan, the marks would still be on his flesh.
Flesh that was currently hidden by a dark shirt, a shirt buttoned all the way to the demon’s neck, and with long, thick sleeves that covered his arms and fastened at his wrists.
Cameron smirked. “Sorry, man, I don’t swing that way.”
Colin stared back at him until the little bastard lost his grin. Then he said, “Two ways to do this, demon. You can willingly take off your shirt—or I can take it off for you.”
The demon’s eyes darted to the mirror. “You can’t do that! That’s not legal!”
Yeah, the ADA had said pretty much the same thing, but . . . Colin let a smile shape his lips, one that showed the tips of his lengthening canines. “I don’t really care about legal now. I just wanna stop the killing.” Human laws weren’t going to apply to this ... situation.
Cameron’s gaze darted to Colin’s teeth. “Ah, shit, shifter.”
His smile widened.
“Thought you might be a charmer, hadn’t pegged you for one of those animals.” His hands went to the bottom of the shirt, and he jerked the material up, fast.
Revealing a completely unmarred stomach and chest. Just like the flesh of the other two demons.
Well, damn.
“Satisfied?” Cameron snapped, and Colin saw the faint tremble in his hands.
“No.” The wounds could have been to the killer’s arms. Defensive wounds that were deep, and bled like a stuck pig. “Show me your arms.”
A curse. Muttering. Todd yanked the shirt down, fumbled with the buttons at his wrists and finally managed to push up the sleeves.
Not even a scratch, on either arm.
“Now are you satisfied?”
Colin shook his head. Of the three demons, he sure as hell would have pegged this guy as the killer.
But it looked like there was another incubus out there in the city. Hiding in the dark, and killing at will.
And playing one deadly cat-and-mouse game with his partner’s lover.
“I’ll be satisfied,” Colin said clearly, “when you give me your alibis for the murders.” Then he sat down and pulled out his notebook and a pen.
“What? Shifter, damn it, I don’t even know when those humans died!” He tugged his sleeves into place.
“You will.” Colin tapped his pen against the table. “Now let’s start with the first victim, Simon Battle.”
McNeal looked like he was about to start screaming. His face had flushed beet red, and Emily could actually hear the sound of his teeth grinding together.
“Back to square one,” he gritted. “Damn, but I hope Brooks and his demon have better luck with Niol.”
Then he turned on his heel and stalked from the room.
Emily turned her gaze back to her lover, her brows pulling down into a frown.
Maybe it was just the demon’s distaste for humans that had her stomach clenching. There had been such anger in him when he raged at Colin, and she’d been around Cameron before—actually, she’d known him for years—but she’d never felt that fury from him.
He’d always been seductive. A flirt. She’d known he was an incubus, of course, it would have been impossible for her not to know, but the rage in him—
It was new.
And that scared her.
Jesus, but when had he started to hate with such a consuming fury?
That much hatred, if it wasn’t faced and fought, soon, it could destroy a man . . . or a demon.
Chapter 16
Time to face the devil.
When night fell, as the shadows stretched over the city and seemed to swallow the light in their hungry grasp, Todd returned to Paradise and to face his own personal demon.
The guards were at the door this time. He tensed when he saw them, more than ready to deal with their shit.
He’d been briefed by the captain. Their top three suspects appeared to be in the clear. That meant, as McNeal had told him, “We’re back to jackshit with this case.”
He needed a break, and Niol was going to give it to him.
“Don’t mess with me tonight,” he warned, voice cold. Cara wasn’t with him. He’d dropped her off at her place, despite his lady’s vehement and loud protests. But he didn’t want her involved in the danger, superhuman powers or not.
The woman was his, and the way Todd saw it, as a cop, and as a man, he was supposed to do his damnedest to protect her.
Tall and Scary opened the door for him. “Not stopping you this time,” he told Todd. “Boss wants to see you.”
Todd grunted and shouldered past him. It was still early enough that the place wasn’t packed. A few folks had wandered in, and Todd thought he caught the glimpse of fang as one guy turned away from him, but the club appeared mostly empty.
His gaze darted toward the bar.
“He’s not here tonight.” Niol’s voice, coming from right behind him.
Christ. Todd spun around. Met those dark eyes. “Where is he?”
“I was going to ask you the same question, Detective.” Niol cocked his head. “Did your partner decide to arrest my bartender?”
“No.” No sense lying—and where was Cameron, anyway? “He’s clear.” The guy had provided Colin with alibis for the murders. The bastard said he’d been tending bar, and at least four people had already confirmed his story. Sure, the witnesses were humans, so they could have been hypnotized by the demon, but Colin had also told him that the bartender didn’t have so much as a scratch on his body—and there was no way the guy could have covered the knife wounds.
It looked like the asshole bartender was off the hook.
“He’s clear? Hmm. Interesting.” But no interest showed in Niol’s shuttered expression. “Cameron didn’t check in for his shift. Should have been here at least half an hour ago.”
The hair on Todd’s nape rose. “The captain told me he left the precinct just before six.” So where was he? His heart rate kicked up, but Todd drew in a deep breath in an attempt to keep his control.
Cara was okay. While she’d still refused the safe house, she’d finally agreed to accept guards. Grudgingly agreed and just to “satisfy you,” as she’d said. A patrol car was stationed right in front of her house.
Nothing was going to happen to her.
Besides, Cameron had been cleared. He was an annoyance.
Not a killer.
But something was pushing his body into alert mode.
Was it Niol? Or someone, something else? “What did you find out?” He demanded, wanting to get his information and get the hell out of there. His skin was prickling, and he wanted to see Cara again.
God, but the woman was always in his mind. Awake. Asleep. Her smell was on his skin. Her taste in his mouth.
He swallowed.
Niol shook his head. “You’re addicted, you know.”
/>
Not the answer he needed. “What?”
“It can happen. The lure of a succubus is strong. She won’t just take your heart. She’ll take your soul, and you’ll want her so much, you’ll stop caring about the pain when she takes and takes.”
But Cara didn’t just take from him. She gave—passion, trust, strength, power. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” And it wasn’t the demon’s business, anyway. “Forget about Cara. She’s not yours to worry about.”
Niol’s face hardened, his lips firming. “Cara is the only thing resembling a family that I have left in this world. Believe me, human, she most definitely is mine to worry about.”
Okay, now he was about to have to get real physical, real fast with the jerk. And to think, he’d promised himself he’d try to be the good cop tonight.
“I don’t know why she chose you,” Niol said, and his brow furrowed. “She could have anyone.”
Yeah, like he didn’t know that fact. But his goddess had chosen him, and he’d thank his lucky stars every day for the rest of his life.
A life he wanted to spend with her.
The realization was as shocking as it was sudden.
“I’ve got word of a few strays in the area.” Niol shrugged. “Nothing too dangerous from the accounts, but—”
Strays? Niol had used that word earlier and—Jesus, what were the demons, some kind of unwanted cats?
“My men will be bringing them soon.” Said with supreme confidence. “Then you can play your cop games with them, or you can just stand back, and I’ll get all the information you need.”
“I’ll question them.”
“If that’s what you want.” One shoulder lifted. “We’ll play it your way.”
Todd’s gaze returned to the empty bar. Cameron’s disappearance bothered him. So he had alibis and he didn’t have wounds, that should have put him in the clear but—
But Todd didn’t like the guy and he’d always felt that cold shiver of awareness when he was near the demon.
“How long have you known Cameron?” Todd asked as he paced toward the bar.
“Almost as long as I’ve known Cara.”
And that told him jackshit. “How long?”
“Why?”
Still no answer. Niol just couldn’t ever make things easy.
“Cara trusts him.” But she also trusted the demon beside him—not exactly a ringing endorsement. “I want to know why.”
Niol pulled up a bar stool. “Cameron’s still pretty young—particularly so for a sex demon.” His eyes swept the bar, lingered a moment on a couple swaying on the dance floor, then he glanced back at Todd. “Cameron’s mother left his father for a human, and, well, his father—Dominic—he wasn’t exactly the nurturing type.”
Well, well. McNeal had told him that during the interrogation, Cameron had been all too vocal about his disgust for humans.
Now he knew why.
“His mother raised him some, when Cameron wasn’t on the streets, but she had a new family to look out for.”
A family that didn’t include an angry young incubus.
“Cara found him one night. Brought him to me. We taught him the things he should have learned years before.”
He could see Cara doing that. Helping the other man. “Was this before or after her sister died?”
“Before. Cameron helped Cara after . . .” Niol clenched his right hand into a fist. “I wasn’t much good to her then. Cameron made sure she was all right.”
So he should be grateful to the demon, but he wasn’t.
Because his alarms were still shrieking in his ears.
“Damn it, when are your men gonna be here?” He wanted to get back to Cara. Needed to get back to her.
“Soon.” Niol’s black gaze flickered over him. “Relax, human. We’ll have your killer before the night’s over.”
Cara cut through the water, her eyes wide open, her arms moving in fast glides as her feet kicked in quick arches.
She broke the surface, drawing in a deep breath and gazing straight up at the starry night. She’d needed this, needed to wash away the horrors of the day and—
“I thought you liked to swim in the mornings.”
The voice had her spinning around, one hand lifting to her chest. Awareness came too late as the man stepped from the shadows.
Cameron stared down at her, the dim lighting from the patio lights flickering over his face. “You like the dawn, don’t you? You don’t usually swim at night.”
Her heart thumped against her chest. Hard. She ignored his question, saying, “Cameron? How did you get back here?” The patrol officers were right in front of her house, and no way would they have just let him stroll around and—
A brief bark of laughter. “Come on, Cara!” He shook his head, a smile flirting around the edges of his mouth. “I’m a demon. It’s not that hard for our kind to scale a fence.” His gaze flickered to the nine-foot privacy fence that walled in her property. “Even one like yours.”
Cara swam toward the ladder.
“The police picked me up today,” Cameron growled, smile vanishing as he watched her with eyes that didn’t blink. “Hauled me down to the station and that animal shifter questioned me.”
Her fingers closed over the ladder. The metal felt cool to the touch. She climbed up quickly and reached for her robe, not bothering with a towel as the chill in the night air swept over her skin.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
She belted the robe in a quick move. “I’m not.”
Anger swept over his face. “You’re the one who told them about me, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Cameron, I had to! I had to tell Todd about any incubus I knew in the area. Someone’s out there killing humans, leaving them with the death brand on their chests.”
“And you think I’m that someone?” He shook his head. “Cara—I thought you knew me. Inside and out.”
Hurt was in his voice. “Cameron . . .” She stepped toward him.
He immediately moved back. “Do you think I’m that someone?”
His voice blasted her. Well, damn, shouldn’t the cops hear that? Her chin shot up. “It doesn’t matter what I think, don’t you see that? I knew of three incubi in the city—I had to tell Todd about them all! And if I hadn’t, someone else would have. The killings have to stop! I couldn’t just let—”
“I never told about you.” Almost whisper soft.
“Wh-what?” Her arms wrapped around her stomach as the wind seemed to chill even more. She’d been so warm in the water. But the night had taken a turn on her.
“Not a soul.” He raised a hand. Pointed his index finger at her. “I knew what you did to him, but I never told.”
Maybe it wasn’t the wind that was cold. Maybe the icy tendrils were coming from within her. “Told what, Cameron?”
“That you killed him.” Said so quietly, so sadly.
Cara tried taking another step toward him.
Cameron stiffened.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” she told him, and ignored the pang in her heart. She hadn’t, but it had been a damn near thing. “If you’re talking about Lance, he killed himself.”
She didn’t see him move—the guy was on her in less than a second. His hands wrapped around her arms, fingers digging deep. “Don’t lie to me!” A snarl of rage. “You killed him. You seduced him, slipped into his mind, and then you killed him!”
“No, I didn’t—”
“He went to you that night. When his body was found, your scent was all over him.” He shook her once, hard. “I know what you did!” A vein bulged near his temple. His eyes blazed black.
Not so handsome right then.
“Let go of me.” Said calmly, but she wasn’t feeling calm. And if he didn’t get his hands off her—right fucking immediately—she was going to forget their friendship and show him just how dirty a succubus could fight.
His mouth snapped closed and he blinked. “Cara?”
/> “Let. Go.”
His hands dropped immediately. “I-I’m s-sorry—”
“How do you know?”
But Cameron just shook his dark head. The black began to fade from his eyes.
“How do you know,” she repeated again, swallowing and clenching her hands into fists, “that my scent was on him?”
“I went looking for him, after Nina died.” Grudging. His eyes were now as blank as glass. “I knew what you’d want to do to him—”
“And how would you know that?” She demanded.
“Because I know you! You’ve been in my head, I’ve been in yours. I. Know. You.” A ragged exhalation of air. “And if she’d been my sister, I would have wanted to do the same thing.”
To make the killer pay. To scream. To beg.
To die.
“I was the one who found Lance’s body.” He backed away from her, began to pace along the edge of the pool. “I got there and caught the stench of death through the door.”
“If you were there, then you saw that it was suicide and—”
“People who kill themselves don’t have terror frozen on their faces, Cara! They don’t die with their eyes wide open and their mouths twisted into a scream!”
Her nails bit into her palms. She felt the wet trickle of blood easing over her flesh. “You’re saying—”
“Cut the crap! We both know Lance didn’t kill himself, and damn it, I never told what I knew! I never said a word to anyone about you killing him, and you turned and ratted me out to your lover the first chance you got.”
“I didn’t.” Said as softly as his words earlier had been. The wind caught her voice, carried it to him.
Cameron frowned. “You—you said you told him, that—”
“I did tell Todd.” And she would make that choice again. “But I swear to you on my sister’s grave that I did not kill Lance.” Truth time. The air she sucked in tasted bitter. “I was going to, but he got away from me. I wanted him dead, so badly—but I did not kill him.” If he hadn’t pulled that knife, she would have.
And she wouldn’t have regretted the action for a moment.
He stopped, stared at her. “No, no, you killed him because of what he did to—”