Hotter After Midnight

by Cynthia Eden

  Colin lifted his claws. “And?”

  “And he’s a hybrid. A being of two magical lines, with the powers of both.”

  Why the hell were they even having this conversation? “I should care about these fucking hybrids, why?”

  Niol laughed again. A long, dry laugh. “Oh, you should definitely care, shifter. You and Emily should care.”

  Ten more seconds. If the demon taunted him just a little longer, Niol would be flying across the room.

  It’d be payback for his little trick on Brooks, and it’d make Colin feel damn good.

  “My patience is running thin.” His claws dug deeper. Niol flinched and finally stopped laughing.

  “I’ve heard rumors…”

  Now they were getting somewhere. Colin eased his grip. “What kind of rumors?”

  “There’s talk of a hybrid demon in town. A strong demon, a nine or ten.”

  Strong enough to cause the surge of power Emily had felt in the alley. “Half demon, huh? What else is the bastard?”

  Niol pursed his lips. Glanced down at Colin’s claws. “Shifter.”

  Oh, fuck.

  “You gonna tell me what was going on back there?” Brooks demanded as they marched back to Colin’s Jeep.

  “We were interrogating a suspect.” Colin glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, throwing blood red streaks across the sky.

  He needed to find Emily. Needed to ask her about hybrids. Damn. Could the guy they were looking for be some uber-combination of demon and shifter? If so, then the case had just taken a very dangerous turn.

  Fighting and tracking another shifter was hard enough. But with a demon’s magical powers…

  The city could be screwed.

  “Dammit, Colin! You know what I’m talking about!” Brooks grabbed him, shoved him against the back of the Jeep.

  The beast howled, but Colin hung on to his control.

  “You’re holding out on me.” Brooks glared at him. “You know more about the case than you’ve said.”

  Yeah, he did. And he’d have to keep holding out on his partner. Because Brooks wasn’t ready for the truth.

  “You didn’t even have my back in there when that bastard threw me across the room!”

  “He didn’t throw you.” Colin pushed away from the Jeep, crossed his arms over his chest, and met Brooks’s angry stare.

  “The hell he didn’t, I—”

  “I watched his hands. He never touched you.” True. The demon had used his powers to push Brooks. But how did he explain that?

  “I should have arrested him.” Brooks rolled his left shoulder. “A night in the pen would have made him talk.”

  Doubtful. A night in the pen more likely would have resulted in Niol driving the guards insane. Literally.

  “And what the hell was up with his eyes?” He shuddered. “Who’d want to wear contacts like that? Everything was pitch black.”

  He wanted to tell Brooks the truth.

  But the last time he’d told his partner the truth about the Other, Colin had wound up with a bullet in him.

  “I expect more from you, man.” Brooks shook his head. “We’ve been teamed up for two years now. I expect more.”

  He wanted to give more. Wished that he could tell Brooks everything.

  But he couldn’t guarantee his partner’s reaction. And he didn’t want to have to fight off another friend.

  And the captain had said the case data he and the doc had collected was confidential. Too confidential for even Brooks.

  At least for now.

  Colin sighed. He had to offer Brooks something. The guy deserved that much. “You’re right, there is more going on than I’ve told you.”

  A muscle flexed along his partner’s jaw. “Why the hell are you keeping me out of the loop? We’re partners.”

  “I have to. What’s going on has been deemed classified.”

  “What?”

  Damn. This wasn’t going well. “There’s stuff going on here—it’s too dangerous for you to know.”

  “Too dangerous for me?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “But let me guess. Dr. Drake knows, doesn’t she? Why isn’t it too dangerous for her?”

  It was. But the doc was already in too deep to pull out.

  “Shit! I don’t like this.” Brooks jabbed a finger in the air near Colin’s chest. “Not a fucking bit.”

  Neither did he.

  Brooks stalked around the Jeep. Jumped inside.

  Colin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d have to tell the captain that Brooks was getting suspicious.

  Maybe McNeal would say he should confide in him.

  Or maybe not.

  Colin climbed inside. Started the engine.

  “I know he didn’t touch me.” Brooks wasn’t looking at him. He was gazing straight through the windshield. “I saw his hands too. I know Niol didn’t touch me.”

  “Brooks—”

  “But I felt his hands on me, I felt him throw me across the room.” He clenched his fingers into fists. “How is that possible?”

  “Look, man, I—”

  “Hell.” Brooks sighed. “Maybe I’m the one who needs to be seeing the doctor. If I’m starting to imagine—”

  “You didn’t imagine it.” He spun out of the lot. He couldn’t risk telling Brooks much, but he’d be damned if he’d let his friend think he was going crazy. “I can’t tell you what’s happening, but believe me, you didn’t imagine a damn thing.”

  No, his partner had just stepped into the world where monsters were real, and he didn’t even realize it.

  “We can’t tell him the truth, Gyth. It’s too risky.”

  “Yeah, I know that.” But it didn’t mean he had to like it. Colin paced around McNeal’s office, tension tight in his body.

  “The case is too big. I can’t risk having one of my detectives losing his cool because he’s suddenly aware that monsters are all around him.”

  “He might not,” Colin muttered, gazing out the window into the darkness. Night had fallen over the city. It was a cloudy, starless night. The kind of night that hid secrets.

  He had a bad feeling about the night. Niol’s words about a hybrid had thrown him.

  He wanted to talk to Emily. He’d tried to call her several times since he’d left Paradise Found, but he just kept getting her voice mail.

  “Look at what happened the last time you told your partner the truth.” McNeal was behind his desk. Hands resting easily on the scarred surface.

  The last time you told your partner the truth. Colin stiffened. “What do you know about my old partner?”

  “I know everything.” McNeal arched a brow. “You think I didn’t do a full check on you before I brought you on down here? I know all about Mike Phillips.”

  Well, shit. “And you didn’t say anything?”

  McNeal shrugged. “What’s to say? Your ex-partner found out that you aren’t human. He tried to kill you, burn down your house.”

  Yeah, that about summed it up.

  The captain leaned forward. “From what I learned, Phillips was unstable to begin with.”

  “He was a good man.” He’d been a good friend, until that night. “He just couldn’t handle what I—”

  “Bullshit. The guy had a history of being on the edge. He’d attacked suspects, been warned by his superiors, and he’d been stalking his ex-wife.”

  Colin didn’t speak. Mike Phillips had been his best friend for ten years. Until that one night.

  “He was fleeing the scene of the fire when he hit that truck, wasn’t he?” McNeal whistled softly. “Driving ninety in a twenty-five, running through the red light, driving straight into the side of that big rig.”

  Colin clenched his back teeth.

  “He was running, wasn’t he? He’d shot you, set the house on fire, then he left you to bleed out.”

  “Ancient history.” History he sure as hell didn’t feel like rehashing right then.

  “But it showed you how some humans can react.
” His fingers drummed against the desk. “They’re not all like that, but the fanatics, the ones who think monsters should be destroyed, they’re the reason we still live in secret.”

  “You ever wonder what it would be like, Captain, if all the Other did reveal themselves? If we stopped pretending? Stopped hiding?” If they all came out of the shadows, what would the world be like then?

  “Yeah, I wonder…and I think half of ’em probably wouldn’t give a damn about us being different.”

  “And the other half?”

  “They’d get the torches and try to burn us all out.”

  Colin nodded. “That’s what I figured.” And the world wasn’t ready for a war between the humans and the Other. “So I tell Brooks nothing.”

  McNeal nodded. “If he gives you trouble, send him to me.”

  No, he could handle Brooks. But, “You know, there are only so many times a man can see magic and deny it.” And if Brooks got tossed across a room by a demon a few more times, odds were good his partner would start to put the facts together.

  “If he figures out what’s going on, we’ll deal with it. With him.”

  Easy words to say, but he knew Brooks wouldn’t be that easy to handle. His gaze drifted to McNeal’s desk. To the thin picture frame on the side.

  A pretty, gray-haired lady smiled cheerfully. His eyes narrowed.

  “Keep any information you find on the Other strictly confidential. Brief me, no one else.”

  “Right.” He heard the captain’s words, but his attention was caught by the woman in the photo. He inched closer to the frame. The woman was holding something—a basket!

  He realized he was looking at a picture of the lady he’d seen in Emily’s office. Margie something. The woman with the hissing wicker basket.

  “My mother.” McNeal tapped the picture. “Raised me by herself after my dad died in the war.”

  “Umm…” He had to ask. “What’s in the basket?”

  A half smile curved McNeal’s lips. “Don’t you know?”

  “I—”

  The phone beside McNeal rang. A loud, shrill cry. He picked it up, barking, “McNeal.”

  His eyes widened as he listened to the voice on the other end. “What? When?”

  Colin tensed.

  “Shit. My men are on their way.” He slammed down the phone. Shot to his feet. “Get Brooks and get down to the News Flash Five station. I’ll call Emily, tell her to meet you there.”

  The News Flash Five station. “What’s happened?”

  “Some intern just found Darla Mitchell’s body. Her throat’s been ripped out.”

  Chapter 11

  He smelled the blood the minute he climbed out of his Jeep. Caught the coppery scent on the wind.

  A line of reporters from other stations had already gathered. Lights were flashing. Cameras rolling. “Shit. Guess who’s gonna be on every station at six o’clock in the morning?”

  He didn’t have to guess. Dammit. The attention was just what the asshole wanted.

  “Colin!” He turned at the feminine cry, found Emily hurrying toward him. Her hair was loose, her glasses slightly askew.

  His insides seemed to tighten as he stared at her. He didn’t want her going inside. Didn’t want her seeing the carnage that waited.

  But he needed her. And the needs of the cop had to outweigh the man’s.

  “I’m going to talk to Smith. See what she’s saying about the victim.” Brooks stepped away, disappearing into the swarm of blue uniforms.

  “What’s happening?” Emily’s gaze darted to the line of police cruisers. “McNeal just told me to get down here, fast.”

  Shit. She didn’t even know what she was walking into. He grabbed her arm, pulled her with him. “Another murder. Same MO as Myers.” He bent, crouching under the yellow line of police tape at the entrance to the station.

  Emily sucked in a sharp breath. “He struck again?”

  “You said he probably would.”

  “Yes, but I’d hoped I was wrong.” She licked her lips. “The victim…who is it?”

  Colin flashed his badge to the cops blocking the crime scene. Emily pulled her ID out of her bag. “She’s working the case as a profiler,” he said.

  The scent of blood was stronger now. Clogging his nostrils. Tickling the back of his throat.

  If he’d been in his other form, he would have relished the smell. The beast loved the scent.

  But the man hated it.

  “Colin.” Emily pulled against his hand. “Who’s the victim?”

  He dropped her fingers. Pulled out his latex gloves. Time to get to work. “Darla Mitchell.” He shoved open the door and walked into hell.

  It was the same as before. The exact same.

  Darla’s prone body lay on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding her body. Her throat had been ripped away, torn, clawed. Her eyes were wide open, frozen in horror, and her mouth was twisted in a silent scream.

  She’d been pretty in life. But death hadn’t been so kind.

  Emily stared down at her still figure. The scents of blood and death filled her nostrils. Around her, she could vaguely hear a buzz of conversation. Brooks was whispering with Smith. Colin was talking to a uniformed officer, ordering the guy to get every piece of surveillance data the station had. A man in a white coat was walking around the body, snapping pictures.

  And Darla stared up at her. Screaming.

  Emily closed her eyes. Felt the rage simmering in the room. So strong…

  She drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. The kill was fresh. And the dark power of the killer still hung in the air like a looming shadow.

  There was no doubt in her mind that the killer who’d savaged Preston Myers and the killer who’d ripped out Darla’s throat were one and the same. Even the blood spatters on the wall looked similar.

  The taint of power surrounded her, and Emily realized there was something familiar about that remnant energy. About the hate and twisted fury.

  Her eyes opened, scanned the room. Colin was a few steps away from her. Should she warn him about what she was going to do? But what if she did and the others overheard? Too many people were in the small room. No, she’d just be careful. Not pry too deeply into his mind.

  But she had to see…

  Emily looked back at the body and slowly, very slowly, lowered the mental shield in her mind.

  Shit. I can’t believe the bastard struck again so soon. We’d better find his face on the security camera. No way could he have gotten in and out of this place without someone knowing. The station’s a freaking zoo.

  Colin’s mind. She pushed his thoughts away, tried to link with the flow of the killer.

  I hope she didn’t suffer.

  Her brow furrowed. Not the killer. This guy felt…too sad, but he was definitely Other. Her head lifted and she looked toward the door. A young, uniformed cop stood in the entranceway, his hands clenched into fists. He hadn’t been there when she’d arrived. Must have just come on duty.

  A charmer.

  She dismissed him, tried to search again. Damn. It’d been so long since she’d lowered her shields with a group of people. It was hard to narrow her focus. So hard to—

  The bitch was too easy to kill.

  Emily stiffened. That wasn’t some kind of remnant energy.

  Her blood tasted good. He could still feel it on his tongue.

  Shit. Her body began to tremble. She moved her head carefully, inch by inch. Scanned the room.

  Colin and the young cop were the only supernaturals she saw.

  She was been better than that other bastard. Tasted sweeter. Maybe I’ll go for a woman again the next time too.

  Emily took one halting step toward the door, then another. Her body felt weighted, but at the same time it was as if she were being pulled. Pulled toward him.

  The killer.

  He was still in the building.

  She had to find him.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she dropped her shie
lds all the way. Felt a flood of hot, dark power singe her, and she lunged for the door.

  She’d find him now; she had his psychic trail. She’d get him and—

  “Where the hell are you going?” Brooks stepped in front of her, frowning. “This is a crime scene, Dr. Drake, you can’t go running—”

  “Get out of my way.”

  The cops are right in front of me. The fucking idiots. Maybe I’ll do one of them next. Yeah, that’d be good.

  Brooks lifted a brow but stepped back.

  Would cops taste different? Would they try to fight more?

  Emily hurried out of Darla’s office. Looked to the left. That way.

  Cops were searching the hall, some crouching. Standing. Some were talking to reporters.

  The dark trail of power was stronger now. Closer.

  She shouldn’t have fucked with me. Should have left the doctor alone.

  Emily froze as she caught his thought. The doctor.

  Darla had asked her questions at the press conference. Asked her about demons.

  Had the killer known?

  “Emily!” Colin’s voice. A loud, demanding cry that turned every head in the hallway.

  The voice in her mind shut off. The twisting power dissipated.

  Shit.

  Emily ran down the hallway, ignoring Colin’s call. It was like the guy had just thrown up some kind of block. No, not a block. A shield. A shield just like hers.

  That didn’t make a damn bit of sense. She’d never met a shifter who had enough psychic power to put up a shield. A demon, yes, but not a shifter.

  She pushed past two cops. Turned the corner. And ran straight into Jake.

  “Dr. Drake!” His eyes widened and his arms automatically wrapped around her as she barreled into him.

  She felt the weak flow of his magic surround her.

  Not the guy she was looking for. “Excuse me.” She pulled away from him, ran straight ahead.

  But there was nothing. No telltale pull of power. No sign of any high-level supernaturals.

  “Emily, what are you doing?” Colin grabbed her elbow, spun her around. “Why are you running?”

  “He’s here.”

  “What?”

  “The killer. He’s still in the building. Or he was…just a moment ago.”

  His fingers tightened around her. “How do you know? Did you see something?”