by Cynthia Eden
And to dream of killing her.
Ah, such sweet dreams. Dreams of blood and death and rich, wonderful power.
Would Cara like those dreams? She’d be seeing them, perhaps dreamwalking into them, soon enough.
Then she’d be dying, just like all the others.
Revenge was so wonderfully sweet.
Chapter 5
“We’ve got a copycat,” Colin announced the minute
Todd walked to his side in front of the Dayton Hotel.
It was the last thing he’d been expecting. “What? How the hell is that even possible?” The guys in the department had been extra-Captain-McNeal-will-chew-your-ass careful. Nothing had been leaked to the press ... yet.
So there should be no damn way to have a copycat killer striking in the night.
“Come on.” Colin spun on his heel and stalked toward the line of hotel rooms on the east side. “See for yourself.”
They strode past the uniforms scoping the scene. Colin pulled on his gloves as they slipped into the room.
Todd’s gaze zeroed in on the body. Male. Muscled. Naked. Looked to be in his mid-thirties. And tied to the bed.
Same victim. Same MO.
Well, not exactly. The bedcovers were pulled up high on this guy. Past his pectorals. In the other cases, the bedspreads and sheets had pooled right over the men’s groin areas.
Todd slanted a quick glance at Colin. Saw his partner’s nostrils widen, just a bit.
“You smell that?” Colin asked.
Todd inhaled heavily, and caught the scent of... blood. He stepped forward, his gaze now sweeping over the victim’s body like a hawk’s.
A tech lifted the covers then, snapped a picture, and Todd got a good look at the guy’s chest.
Blood coated his flesh.
“Sonofabitch.”
“Yeah.” Colin stepped closer. “The uniforms first on the scene didn’t touch anything. They just called in the body, said a naked guy had been found tied to a bed with white hemp rope—”
“And no one even checked to see that the guy had been butchered.” Fuck. Okay, so the uniforms hadn’t wanted to disturb the crime scene—smart.
But, damn.
The lady hadn’t been playing with weapons before.
So much blood. The poor bastard in the bed had died hard.
“I’d say the guy’s been dead less than an hour,” the tech told them.
Colin grunted. “The guy at check-in has him signing in at nine.”
So the time line fit. Okay, but... “Was there anyone with him when he checked in?” Todd asked.
Colin gave a hard nod. “Talked to the clerk right before you got here.” A dark brow rose. “He saw a woman with long blond hair. A woman who kept her back turned away from him most of the time.”
What was going on? Serials didn’t change their MOs. Not this fast.
“It can’t be a copy,” he muttered, “no one knows about the scene, and—”
“That little redhead, what’s her name? Hannah? Holly? You know, the reporter who replaced Darla on News Flash Five?”
Todd nodded cautiously. Holly Storm.
“I saw her nosing around the scene of the second kill. The captain sent out a gag order.” A damn strong one. Colin shrugged. “But maybe the lady got some info from one of the uniforms.”
“It would’ve been on the five o’clock news if she had.” He’d seen her at the scene, too, skulking around in typical reporter fashion. But Holly hadn’t broadcast any hard-hitting stories yet—because no one on the force had given her so much as a five-second sound bite—and the public wasn’t even aware that there was a crime wave to copy.
Something else was going on.
The scene didn’t feel like a copy.
“Someone has to know.” Colin pointed to the bed.
“Someone knows and they’re trying damn hard to make the scene look the others.”
“Uh, guys?” The tech’s voice, breaking with excitement.
Their heads jerked toward him. The guy lifted up a knife, blade still bloody, gingerly holding it by the hilt. “I think we’ve got the weapon.”
Well, damn. Now that was sure as hell not like the other scenes.
But then, neither was the bloody body.
Either they were dealing with a whole different killer—one who liked the bondage games just as much as the last woman, only she liked for her prey to bleed—or their case had just gotten a very, very big break.
“Let’s get it to forensics.” They needed to scan that baby for prints, ASAP. The odds that there would be a match in the system were slim, even if the perp hadn’t wiped the hilt clean.
Still it was a solid lead, something that they could run with on the hunt. The fire of the chase began to heat Todd’s blood.
It was dawn before Todd made it back to his place. He stripped, then all but fell into the bed.
He caught her scent then. A light, lavender fragrance hanging in the air, mixed with the wilder scent of woman.
Cara.
Hell, it was like the woman was right there with him.
As he closed his eyes, he whispered her name, and wondered if he’d dream of her again.
Or if he’d slip back into the past and dream of sharp teeth and savage claws. A nightmare that he couldn’t escape from as he watched a man transform into a beast in a blinding fury of crunching bones and savage pain.
He wanted Cara, not that shifting demon from hell. The demon who had his partner’s eyes.
She opened her eyes and found herself in his bedroom once more.
Dream or reality? This time, she knew the answer right away.
Light filled the room. Chased away the shadows and clearly showed the man on the bed. He was naked. She could see the muscled expanse of his chest. The faint marks near his shoulder, the white line too close to his heart, and the jagged imprint on his side. Old wounds—the price of his job.
A light covering of dark hair arrowed down to his groin—right down to the heavily aroused flesh of his cock.
The guy emanated so much sexual tension it was a draw she could all but taste in the room.
But she still shouldn’t have been in his dream. Cara frowned even as she stepped forward almost helplessly. She hadn’t entered his dream deliberately. Once she’d gotten into bed, she’d closed her eyes and let exhaustion claim her.
She should have slept in blessed darkness.
Not been sent to him.
What was going on? It was like she had no control over herself or her powers when she thought of him.
“Come closer, Cara,” he whispered, and her eyes lifted in surprise to find his hungry stare on her.
Shouldn’t have happened. Even in the dream state, she should have needed to command his eyes open.
Cara hesitated, confused. But the time before, he’d been awake and aware—just as he was now. She just hadn’t truly realized the significance of that act—until now.
The man had too much power for a human, and if she had any sense, she’d be transporting out of the dream state as fast as she could.
Instead of licking her lips and inching toward the bed.
His gaze dropped and raked over her. His stare was so hot her flesh seemed to burn.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.”
Just a thin gown, like before. No underwear. She lifted her hands, caught the silk, and pulled it over her head.
Todd swallowed.
She tossed the gown onto the floor. “Now I’m not.” The good part of her, the part that had sprung to life just a few years back, screamed at her that this was a mistake. She shouldn’t be in his mind without his permission. Shouldn’t be planning to enjoy a sensual game with him. Shouldn’t be so eager to taste him, his lips, his body, his very soul.
But the other part of her, the wild, dark demon who lived in her heart, she all but growled with eagerness. So much strength and power.
Cara wanted him.
And she would have him.
If only in her dreams.
His dreams.
She eased onto the bed, then crawled up the mattress until she crouched over him. Her index finger lifted and trailed a path down the center of his chest. Her gaze darted over the faint scars and, for a moment, a pang shot through her.
Humans could be hurt so easily.
“God, this feels so real,” he muttered. “I can smell you, all around me.” He reached for her, fisting his hands in her hair and dragging her up for a hard, deep kiss. A kiss that made her forget about the scars and know only raw need. “And I can damn well taste you,” he bit the words off against her lips. Then he kissed her again. Harder. The thrust of his tongue claimed her mouth, and she responded greedily, stroking him and widening her lips.
Her hands caught his shoulders. Broad. Powerful. She pushed up, levering her body so that he lay beneath her while she straddled his hips. “Tell me what you want.” An order. Magic seemed to shimmer in the air.
He caught her hips and closed his fingers over her flesh. The heavy weight of his hands forced her moist sex against the rigid length of his cock. “You know what I want.”
“Tell me,” she said, her voice husky. “I need the words.” She craved them. It made the dream more real.
“I want to taste your breasts. Lick your nipples.”
Her breasts ached with need. Too sensitive. She arched toward him. “Do it.” A challenge.
His back rose from the bed. His lips closed hungrily around her left nipple. Sucked hard. Licked.
Bit. A light, sweet bite.
Cara shuddered and rubbed her sex over his cock. The slick cream from her core covered his thick length. The wet heat made it so easy for her sex to slide over his erection.
And it would be so easy to take him inside.
His mouth was on her other breast now. Wild. Desperate. Licking and sucking and the rough rasp of his tongue felt so good. She pressed her breast closer to him, wanting more.
Needing everything from him.
“Wh-what else?” The words were gasped. Her sex throbbed with need. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with tension and sensual hunger.
It had been too long since she’d fed from a man’s release—and known the fierce pleasure of her own. “What else ... do you want?”
His head lifted, lips wet with a soft sheen of moisture. The look in his eyes caught her breath. “I want you spread beneath me.”
She lifted slightly on her knees. His hands still held her hips. The fingers of his right hand were just below the half-moon birthmark on her left side. She rose a few inches higher, breaking the flesh-on-flesh contact of their sexes. Cara gazed down at her body. At the ivory skin. The light hair that shielded her sex. Then her gaze drifted to his body. Golden skin. Rippling muscles. Thick, full cock. She licked her lips. “What about above you?”
His gaze dropped. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her sex and his lips parted. “I want to taste you.”
She could all too readily imagine the warm swipe of his tongue on her flesh. “That’s just—”
A sharp, shrieking cry erupted in the room. Cara jumped in surprise.
Todd swore.
The damn phone.
The dream connection began to fade as the phone rang again, and its piercing call pulled Todd closer and closer to reality.
And farther away from her.
Saved by the bell, again. Cara’s lips tightened. More like screwed by the damn bell.
She climbed from the bed. Her body ached with unfulfilled need, even as the demon greedily lapped up the sensual currents still permeating the air.
Put him back under. He can’t fight you in the dream state. A dark, insidious voice whispered in her mind. Finish. Take your pleasure. Give the man his.
His hand snaked out, caught her wrist in a steely grip. “Stay with me.”
A reluctant shake of her head. “That’s not how it works.”
The phone pealed again, the sound even louder as it broke the veil of fantasy.
His eyes seemed so aware as he gazed at her. Hunger and need raged in those dark depths. She wasn’t certain just how aware he was of what was happening between them. Did he sense that it was so much more than just an erotic dream?
“You need to be careful.” It was the woman who spoke, fighting back the demon’s snarling demand and her dark wishes. “I’m not who”—what—“you think I am.”
His fingers tightened around her. “Then tell me who you really are.”
Her lips curled as the phone shrieked again. “Lover,” he could have been, “I’m not even human.”
A final demanding cry from the phone swept away the dream and carried her spirit back to her body.
I’m not even human.
Todd’s eyes shot open and he reached for the phone, nearly knocking the nightstand onto the floor. “Damn it, what?” A bleary look at his bedside clock showed that he’d managed to sleep for two hours this time. Two whole fucking hours.
And screw it to hell, but he’d been enjoying that dream. Or at least, he had until Cara had whispered her little secret at the end. Just what in the hell had that been about? How fucked up was his subconscious? First the damn wolf nightmares—the fucking claws and teeth—and now this shit.
Couldn’t a guy just have a good sex dream anymore?
“Ah, Detective?” The rough, slightly arrogant tone had him slapping a hand to his forehead.
Captain Danny McNeal. Aw, hell.
“Is this a bad time for you, Detective?” Annoyed now—and it really didn’t pay to annoy the captain.
“Sorry, Captain. I was . . .” fantasizing, having almost unbelievable sex . . . “sleeping.”
A grunt. “Well, Sleeping Beauty, if you can manage to drag your ass down to the station—”
His back teeth clenched. Drag his ass. Fucking nice. He’d worked most of the night to protect the people of Atlanta. He deserved to let his ass get some sleep now.
“—Smith has some info on your case.”
Now that had him finally snapping to full wakefulness. “Be right there.” But he was talking to the dial tone because McNeal had already hung up on him.
Bastard.
Todd met Colin on the steps of the precinct. His only consolation was that his partner looked like shit. Exactly the way he felt.
Smith’s timing could have been a hell of a lot better.
Or, depending on the victim’s perspective, he guessed it could have been worse.
But he knew the rules. The case came first. Then sleep.
As long as he could function adequately at his job and not jeopardize any civilians, well, he was good to go.
He and Colin rode the elevator silently down to the Crypt. The Crypt was Smith’s domain. It housed the medical examiner’s office as well as all the cold slabs, so the place always chilled him to the bone.
When the elevator doors slid open, he expected to hear the usual soft strains of Smith’s jazz music, but, instead, a heavy, thick silence filled the air.
Colin hesitated. “Maybe you should talk to her alone.” His face was tense, lips tight. “I don’t . . . know if she’s ready to see me yet.”
Now that was damn odd. As far as Todd knew, Colin had rescued Smith from that psycho who’d taken her.
At his raised brow, Colin said, “Bad memories, you know? She just got back, I don’t want to stir anything up for her.” The man looked seriously uncomfortable.
“You haven’t talked to her since she’s been working in the Crypt again?” Todd had gone down the first day to check in with the good doctor. She’d seemed quiet, her face a bit too tense, but otherwise, she’d appeared just fine.
Colin gave a curt shake of his head. “Not yet.”
“Well, hell, man, there’s no time like the present.” He sauntered down the small hallway, grabbed the handle of the door, and opened it with a quick pull. “After you.”
Colin lifted his chin. Marched forward. “Damn it, I don’t want her to freak out.”
/> Yeah, well, Smith had never really struck him as the “freak out” type. More the serious, smart, and very-much-together genius type.
Colin entered the Crypt first, then Todd swept inside behind him, calling out, “Smith! We’re here—”
She stepped out from behind a row of filing cabinets. Her dark gaze immediately went to his partner, and a tremble seemed to roll over her entire body.
“Smith!” He lunged forward, certain that the ME was about to faint.
Colin beat him to her. He grabbed Smith, holding her easily and then pushing her down into a nearby chair. “Easy.”
She sucked in a deep gulp of air. Her skin, light, creamy brown, had completely healed from the attack. The bruises had faded. The scratches and cuts had healed. Smith looked like her old self. Gorgeous face. Exotic eyes. Hair dark as night.
But the fear that he saw lurking in those dark eyes, that was new. Before, Smith hadn’t been afraid of a damn thing.
He’d admired that about her.
“Get your hands off me,” she told Colin, her voice a growl. “I’m fine.”
He backed off immediately.
Smith’s fingers, delicate, ringless, rose to clutch the arms of the chair. Her body wasn’t shaking anymore, and when Colin eased back across the room, some of the fear faded from her gaze. Well, well. What was this about? Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who got nervous around old Colin these days.
But then, after seeing the guy transform into a four-legged dog with teeth a shark would envy, Todd figured he had a right to be a bit on the edgy side.
After all, it wasn’t every day that a guy found out his partner could lick his own ass. Or rip a man’s throat out with his teeth.
Smith’s body trembled “How’s your doc doing?” She asked Colin, and there was an edge to the words that Todd couldn’t quite define.
Colin lifted his brows. “Good. If you went to see her, like you should, you’d know that.”
Her full lips curved into what was definitely not a smile. More a snarl. “I’m afraid I’m not quite the type of patient she’s used to.”
Now what the hell was this? Todd stepped between them, lifting his hands. “Uh, yeah, it’s obvious you two have some shit to talk about, and that’s just great.” He turned his attention solely to Smith. “But I’m tired as hell, and just want to know about the case right now, okay?”
