by Cynthia Eden
Niol caught sight of the wolf shifter cop, pushing his way through the crowd.
A gun wouldn’t kill him, but that one—though he’d sure never let on to the detective—he could give Niol a good run at death.
A wolf shifter’s claws, if they got a lucky swipe at his throat, would be able to end his days. Not a mortal weapon, so one deadly to him.
Not that he’d ever be telling the cop…
There was a reason level-ten demons didn’t get along with wolf shifters. Self-preservation.
Gyth reached for him, as if he’d help. “Get the hell away from me,” Niol growled, straightening his shoulders. The day he needed help from a wolf would be the day he—
“Humans are here,” Gyth whispered. “You were shot in the heart, asshole. Let me help.”
Not the heart. The woman’s aim hadn’t been that good.
But Holly’s shot at the male had been perfect. The lady sure knew how to handle a gun. He’d have to ask her about that one day.
One day. But for now…
Niol gave a grim nod, then, though it grated, he wrapped an arm around the wolf shifter’s shoulders and let Gyth lead him from the house. He kept his right hand locked on Holly. No way would he leave her behind in that shack that smelled of death.
“He’s going to kill me! You have to protect me! I need help!” The bitch’s screams rose, making his temples throb. He spared a glance for the blonde as he passed her and watched with satisfaction as she jerked back against the cop near her.
“We’ll take care of her, don’t worry,” Gyth said. The words, Niol knew, were a warning. Because when Gyth turned his head, just a fraction, and met Niol’s stare, he saw very clearly what the cop was thinking. My job. Don’t even think of going after her.
Ah, but the wolf knew he liked to hunt.
Niol tossed one more glance at the woman. Then he lifted his eyes to the cop who held her with one hand clenching around her shoulder. A middle-aged cop, with black hair already going gray, a strong jaw, and lips that were pressed into a firm line. Niol met his warm brown gaze—and looked straight through his glamour.
Brown eyes flashed black.
Told his partner before. Demons are a third of the force.
“Don’t worry, detective,” he said, keeping his voice calm, but making sure he was heard by the ones that mattered. “I’ll leave this case in the hands of the police. I’m sure it will be handled just right.”
The cop on the other side of the blonde stepped forward. Niol recognized him. Another one of mine.
A slight inclination of the cop’s head.
“Don’t worry, love,” he told Holly as they left the woman’s cries behind them, “she won’t hurt anyone else.”
That was a guarantee.
They stepped onto an old porch. One with rotting wood and loose boards. Police cruisers surrounded the house. Two ambulances waited near the drive, and there was even a fire truck braking at the side of the broken street.
Niol glanced over at Gyth.
The wolf gave a slow smile. “I put a tail on you. Figured after the fire, you wouldn’t be taking shit much longer.”
No, he wouldn’t.
“Didn’t expect a grab on Storm.” The smile dimmed. “Thought you were the target, not her.”
“So did I.” For a time.
“I didn’t expect a grab, either,” Holly muttered.
Gyth shook his head. “When you came in here and I heard the explosion—”
The shifter would have heard the wall collapse from miles away.
“—I knew the shit had hit the fan. I called for backup and got to the house just when the shots were fired.”
Gyth exhaled on a heavy sigh. “That blonde came running out—don’t know where the hell she thought she was going, but I had to hold your men back when they saw her.”
Yes, Niol bet he’d had to hold them—hard.
EMTs rushed toward him with a stretcher. Dammit. Niol felt the eyes on him. He heard the screech of tires and saw the news vans jerking to a stop in a cloud of dirt.
“Sir?” A young guy, clean shaven, wearing a perfectly pressed uniform.
“Go with them, Niol,” Holly said, her voice stroking over him.
His teeth clenched, but he climbed on the stretcher. He’d disappear long before the ambulance pulled up at the hospital and the ride would keep him away from prying eyes.
Least I’m finally away from the shifter.
Though he’d admit the bastard wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. Emily could have done worse.
Course she could have done better.
Holly leaned over him. Her eyes were wide and stark and the dried blood on her neck made him want to kill that ass-hole all over again.
“Thank you.” Her mouth lifted into a half-smile.
He didn’t want her fucking thanks.
He just wanted her.
The EMT moved to strap him down.
“Don’t even think about it!”
The guy backed up, fast.
“Kiss me, Holly.” One more kiss, before the world that was waiting with cameras and microphones stole her.
“Storm! Storm!” Niol didn’t look away from her as he heard the yell.
Holly bent over him and brushed her lips against his. Not nearly enough.
His fingers tangled in her hair. He pulled her closer and thrust his tongue into her sweet mouth.
Still not enough.
“Storm! Storm, get a mike! You’re the damn story! This is the best story of your life! Get. A. Mike!”
Her head lifted. The EMTs waited to wheel him away. And the cameras waited for her.
His heart ached, and not because of the bullet slowly making its way back up through his chest.
She’d stepped in front of a bullet for him. Been willing to die. For him.
Don’t deserve her. Never will. Need to walk away.
Maybe for once, he should do the right thing.
“Good-bye, love.” His fingers slipped down her cheek. Brushed over her lips.
Then the EMTs rolled him away from her. She looked so fragile, with the blood on her clothes and the shadows under her eyes. So breakable.
But today, faced with hell, she hadn’t broken.
She’d fired back. Tried to kill a man she’d nearly married. Protected me.
They pushed him into the back of the ambulance. The instant the doors slammed, Niol jerked upright. One of the EMTs, the woman, was a shifter. She’d come to Paradise a few times. A real fox.
He pointed to the brunette. “The vehicle makes a pit stop before the hospital.”
She smiled. She knew the way things worked in this city.
Unable to stop himself, Niol turned his head and watched through the back window. Two men stood on either side of Holly. Ben, the cameraman he’d seen a few times. His head was bandaged, and he had his camera hoisted up on his shoulder.
The other guy was older, with silver-streaked hair. He shoved a microphone toward Holly.
Her gaze lifted. Met his.
Do the right thing.
The siren wailed to life.
The ambulance pulled away.
Doing the right thing—fucking hard. But for her, he’d do just about anything.
Even if that meant leaving her.
He’d left her. The red lights from the ambulance lit up the street and Holly watched those lights, spellbound.
He’d left. And she’d seen his eyes—seen the good-bye in them. This wasn’t an I’ll-See-You-Later leave.
This was the end.
The hunters had been stopped. The demons were safe again, and Holly had never felt more alone.
“For Christ’s sake, Storm, take the microphone!”
The bellow had her lifting the gaze she’d dropped and looking into Mac’s glittering eyes. The guy’s face was crimson and he seriously looked like he would be bursting a blood vessel any minute.
“Take the mike.” Her cameraman’s whisper.
She blin
ked and realized that bright lights and cameras were all around her. She heard other reporters talking, running with the story they’d no doubt picked up on the police radio.
It was the story. One she knew more about than any other. But she didn’t want to tell it. She wanted to go after Niol.
It can’t end this way.
It didn’t matter why they had come together in the beginning. She didn’t care about his past. She just wanted his future.
She wanted him.
“I’m begging you—take the microphone!” Mac. His knuckles whitened around the microphone. Had she really thought he might be the killer?
She’d sure never thought Zack was…
A red hole in his chest. Eyes wide with terror.
No. Don’t go there.
The fingers that were shaking fisted.
The ambulance was gone now. The sudden wind on her cheeks stung, bringing tears to her eyes.
Holly swallowed and slowly straightened her shoulders.
This wasn’t the way things would end for her. Saved, but alone. No damn way.
This wasn’t her ending. Wasn’t their ending.
Her eyes narrowed. “I know where to find you.”
“Maybe we should get a doctor to look at her,” Ben mumbled. “Could be she’s in shock.”
Probably was. Holly figured that would account for the trembling. But, as always, a breakdown really wasn’t an option for her.
There was a story to cover, and after that, there was a demon to catch. A demon who wouldn’t be getting away from her so easily.
No, not so easily.
Holly reached for the microphone. “How do I look?” She knew the answer, though, even before Mac helpfully supplied—
“Like shit, sweetheart, shit.” A whistle. “We’re gonna blow those other bastards right out of the water!”
As usual, his tact was absent.
Such was Mac.
“Zoom in on her neck—and her side—some blood’s there, too,” he ordered.
But Ben hesitated. “Hol—you sure you don’t want a doctor to look at you?”
The bleeding had stopped. Luckily, her wounds were shallow. She’d be fine. “Start rolling.” This was her story. Hers, Sam’s, Carl’s—she owed it to them. And to Kim and Julia.
The other reporters on the scene, they scented there was more to the story than met the eye. Once upon a time, she would have been like them. Desperate to reveal the real truth about the killings.
But there was something more important at stake tonight. Justice had been served. Would be served to Michelle. Now there were others to think about. Others to protect.
All of the demons in the shadows.
The many monsters who feared humans would come hunting them, too. If their secrets were revealed.
Niol didn’t fear discovery, but the others did. So she’d keep their secrets safe.
She’d also get her story, and maybe a freaking Peabody Award to boot. Hell, she deserved one.
Ben turned on the camera and a light spilled onto her. Holly lifted the microphone, aware that the lens would pick up her trembling. Nothing she could do about that.
Or about the fact that she probably really did look like shit.
Holly took a deep breath and looked right into the lens. “Justice was served tonight, here on this quiet street where a vicious murderer” You never can trust some people “was killed, and his co-conspirator…” Probably should be using the word “alleged” but screw that “ was captured by police.”
Her left hand lifted and brushed over the cut on her throat. “The killer was delusional, seeing demons everywhere, and in the end, his insanity pushed him over the edge” and sent him to hell, “ and his life ended with the shot of a gun.”
Holly heard Gyth swear behind her. She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere. She knew the guy wanted to yank her off the air and she also knew that he wouldn’t. She’d bled for this story. It was hers.
She’d give the cops a statement later.
“I’m Holly Storm for News Flash Five, and I’m live on the scene of what could have been my own murder…”
The lens rotated as Ben moved in for a close-up.
“Damn, but she’s something else.” Brooks shook his head as Holly delivered her story, voice cool and calm, face bruised and bloody. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Should we be worried about what she’s going to say?” One word about demon-hunters and they’d be screwed.
Holly Storm had them by the balls.
All she had to do was direct the cameraman’s attention to Michelle—that woman would spill everything about the demons. We need to get her loaded into the truck, fast.
Gyth shook his head. “Storm won’t talk about the Other.” The guy sounded completely confident.
Brooks didn’t exactly share that confidence. “Maybe we should pull her off the air. We’ve got a dead body on the scene, man, and—”
“I shot my attacker…” Still cool and calm.
Brooks closed his eyes. Fuck.
“She didn’t kill him.” Brooks cracked open his eyes and saw that Gyth was still watching Holly Storm, his head cocked to the left as he said, “But she’d take the fall in a heartbeat for that kill.”
For him.
Brooks felt his temples throb. “Niol got to him first?”
Gyth didn’t answer, but then, he didn’t really have to. Brooks knew just what Niol was capable of doing with his mind. “Should’ve given us a statement first,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t think Storm makes a habit out of doing the things she should do.”
He was getting that.
“Niol’s not gonna make it to the hospital, is he?”
“No, but we know where to find him.”
True. The guy had never been one to hide. Brooks figured they’d get his statement soon enough. One thing he’d learned, the Other cases didn’t always go by the book.
Five minutes later, the camera finally lowered.
They headed for Storm.
She dressed with care. Sexy two-inch heels. Short black skirt. Low neck, cleavage-showing, bloodred shirt.
Her side ached and her arm still stung, but, all things considered, Holly figured she was doing pretty damn well.
For a woman who’d almost been sliced open.
She took a deep breath.
Over. Zack wouldn’t hurt anyone else, not ever again.
Holly stared into her mirror and watched her eyes fade to black. She could control the change now. It felt…natural.
At this point, she rather liked those eyes.
Not impure. Not a mistake.
Me.
The cops had kept her for hours. So many questions. So many eyes on her.
Then there had been more cameras. Other reporters wanting her to talk.
When she’d finally managed to escape, her first instinct had been to run straight to Paradise.
But she hadn’t wanted to see Niol still covered in blood.
Besides, she’d known that the police were going for him—his turn to answer questions.
So she’d waited and let the darkness fall.
Holly glanced at the clock. Close to ten p.m. now. Things should just be getting started at Paradise. Time for her to hunt a demon…
And to lay her soul bare before him.
Chapter 19
Demons and vampires packed the floors of Paradise. Holly walked right past them, her chin up, her shoulders back, her heels clicking on the floor.
Music blared in her ears. A loud, drumming beat that heated her blood.
So many bodies. So much power.
But she wanted only one man.
There. At the bar. Head back, strong fingers wrapped around his glass of amber liquid.
A whisper went through the crowd and she knew she’d been spotted.
News traveled even faster in the demon world than it did in the human one.
Niol’s head lowered and his eyes locked o
n her. No surprise showed on his face.
He knew I was here the minute I stepped inside Paradise.
He watched her, his face still, expressionless. The mask was back. The demon who felt nothing.
Holly didn’t stop walking.
She could see right through the mask. She could see the emotion in his eyes. Burning black fire.
More whispers as she drew closer to him.
They’d have an audience for this. Not her style, but his.
Holly stopped two feet away from him. The guy looked good. No, gorgeous. Not even a hint of pale skin. Apparently two gunshot wounds didn’t slow the man down long at all.
Though they’d sure scared some years off her life.
His gaze swept over her, lingering not on the exposed skin of her breasts, but on the faint cut on her throat, the bandage on her arm, and the wound on her side that was covered by her silk shirt.
“You shouldn’t be here.” A rumble of sound.
Her brows rose. “I thought I was welcome here.” If he wanted to tell her to fuck off, he could do it. But this wasn’t going to be some quiet ending. She was coming clean with Niol.
Time to tell the demon just how she felt.
“You’re an asshole, Niol. You saved my life, but then you left me and didn’t look back.”
His eyelids flickered at that.
Had he looked back?
The glass in his hand cracked. Slowly, carefully, Niol sat the drink down on the bar top. “Why are you here, Holly? The case is over.”
And so are we.
No, not yet.
“There are only two reasons humans come here…” This came from the bartender.
I’m not human. Those rules didn’t apply to her. They never had.
“Are you here to play?” Niol asked.
Holly shook her head. “Game time’s over, demon.”
His lips tightened and Niol stood, the barstool scraping on the floor behind him. “Why are you here?”
For you. She knew her eyes said the answer for her.
He shook his head.
She closed the distance between them, rose up, and kissed him. Kissed him with her hunger, with the lust that was always so close, and with the love that had stirred slowly within her.
A gust of wind tossed her hair and teased her flesh.
Niol lifted his head.
The blaring music quieted.
