Hotter After Midnight

But her mother couldn’t see them. Even though they were right there.

“Shh…sweetheart, relax, okay? Everything’s going to be all right.” It was one of the nurses talking. An older woman with bright red hair and lips and skin that looked too pale.

“I-I wanna go home.” She’d never been away from home before, not once in her life. Her friends had sleepovers, but her mom had never let her go—

“You’ll go home.” The nurse stroked her cheek. “Once the doctors make you all better, you’ll go home again.”

She didn’t need to be made better. Her hands balled into fists, jerked against the binds. “I’m not sick!” The words came out as a scream.

The nurse flinched, pulled her hand back.

“You need to calm down, honey.” This came from one of the men in white who’d jerked her out of her mom’s car.

She didn’t like him. Didn’t like the hard, sickly smell that clung to him. Didn’t like his cold eyes.

“Mom!” Her mom couldn’t leave her there. “I’m sorry! I won’t talk about them again, I promise! Don’t leave me, don’t—

”

Her mother was turning away, her shoulders hunched.

No, no, she couldn’t leave her! She wanted to go back home, back to her room, back to—

Her mother was walking away. Not glancing back at her.

“Mom!” One of the straps snapped when she jerked up. “No!”

The men in white caught her shoulders, forced her back down with hands that stung.

“Get the doctor; get him in here, now!”

Emily fought the hands that held her. She didn’t like this place. The people…something was wrong here. The air felt wrong. Too thick.

And it was so cold.

A white-haired man appeared at her side. He had a long, sharp needle in his hands. “This will calm her down.”

She didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to be up!

They held her tightly, and the needle pressed into her arm, burning with a hot flash of pain. She whimpered and finally met the gaze of the doctor.

His blue eyes stared into hers; then, for just an instant, they flashed black.

Her head thrashed against the table. “He’s one of them!” They had to see it! “Look at his eyes! He’s a monster!”

The men in white shifted and glanced at the doctor. The nurse didn’t bother looking his way. “She’s delusional. The mother says she’s been seeing things for a while now, but it’s getting worse.”

The drug was kicking in and her body was starting to feel heavy.

“Hmmm.” The doctor was staring at her, his eyes once again a bright blue. “And what does she see?”

“Monsters.” The nurse brushed a strand of hair back from Emily’s face. “The poor child always sees monsters.”

And she saw one then. Staring down at her from behind the doctor’s concerned face.

“Really…and she’s been seeing them for years?”

The nurse nodded.

Her eyelids wanted to close, but she didn’t want to sleep. Not with the monster so close.

The doctor motioned the others away. Leaned close to her. “What do you see, child, when you look at me?”

Her tongue was thick. Her mouth too dry. Emily wet her lips, swallowed. “M-monster. Y-your eyes…” Her voice was a weak whisper.

He leaned even closer. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “What about them?”

“L-lying, t-trick. A-all black…”

“Hmmm…” His lying eyes narrowed. “You see that, do you?”

“F-feel y-you. In the a-air.” Like a hard wind pressing on her. He was all around. Why didn’t the others feel it too?

Her fingers uncurled, fell back against the hard surface of the bed. Her eyelids dropped, even though she tried to force them open.

Her breathing slowed and her mind began to drift.

“It’s all right, child.” The doctor’s voice sounded so far away. He gripped her fingers, but the touch seemed feather light.

“I’ll take care of you from now on.”

And he had, Emily realized, her thoughts sliding back to the present. Dr. Marcus Catcherly, “Catch,” had taken care of her. He’d helped her to understand what she was seeing. Taught her everything she knew about the Other.

And he’d taught her how to lie. How to pretend to be normal. To fit in at school, with her friends, and even with her family.

He’d been her mentor, closer to her than anyone else in her life.

After three months, Catch had convinced her mother that Emily was well enough to return home. He’d visited her every week, doing what he called follow-up care. She’d talked to him about the different creatures she’d seen and he’d taught her about them all.

And she’d never mentioned a word about monsters to her mother again.

The fire had been his idea. He’d arranged for the patients to go on a “therapy trip” that day. He’d helped her to time the blaze, helped her to make certain every piece of evidence about her stay was destroyed.

She’d been eleven years old when she entered Serenity Woods. At sixteen, she’d torched the place.

Catch had taken her secret to his grave. But one other person knew all of the details of her stay at the psychiatric hospital.

Emily opened her car door, stood, and felt the cool breeze of fall blow against her body.

The house was waiting for her.

Emily straightened her shoulders, walked slowly up the stone sidewalk. A cheerful welcome mat greeted her at the entranceway.

The house was so normal.

“Never trust anything normal. Cuz it’s the normal stuff you’ve got to fear. Monsters, demons, witches…we’re all more afraid of that normal world than you can ever imagine.” Catch’s words rang in her ears. He’d always thought humans were dangerous. Too unpredictable. “They’re more bloodthirsty than we are, remember that.”

Her hand curled into a fist. She rapped against the wooden door. Once, twice.

“Coming!” Muffled, feminine. Shuffling footsteps followed the call. The door opened with a faint squeak.

A small, dark-haired woman in her early fifties blinked. “Emily?”

“Hi, Mom.” Deliberately, she kept her voice light, her body relaxed. “Mind if I come in?”

Her mother’s knuckles whitened around the door frame, but after a moment, she stepped back, and Emily walked slowly into the home she hadn’t seen in years.

“So, the doctor’s your girlfriend now, huh?” Brooks asked as they approached Paradise Found. Two hulking guys were leaning against the outside of the building, their eyes scanning the streets.

“I’m not talking about her, Brooks.” His partner was like a dog with a bone. A damn annoying dog.

“Well, it looked like she was your girlfriend. I mean, I hope you don’t get that friendly in the Crypt with just every woman you meet.”

The two men finally caught sight of them. They stiffened. One pulled out a radio and spoke quickly.

Good. Let the bastard know we’re here.

“Damn. I think our boys are carrying.” Finally, the guy was talking about something other than Emily. Brooks reached for his weapon. “You didn’t tell me this Niol guy had muscle.”

“Yeah, he’s got muscle.” Money. Muscle. And a serious attitude problem. Not the ideal candidate for an impromptu interrogation.

Colin flashed his badge to the guys at the door. Wondered if they were human or demon. For a moment, he wished he’d brought the doc with him. But he hadn’t been able to find her at the precinct.

The woman had run from him. Not a good sign.

But he’d track her. Apologize for jumping on her like a starving asshole. He’d just been desperate for a taste of her, and he’d given in to the driving hunger.

A woman like her, a classy lady used to fancy restaurants and shows, she wouldn’t like being pushed up against a dirty wall and stripped. Oh no, she wouldn’t like that a damn bit.

He was prepared to apologize. And he was also prepared to get her naked beneath him. At the earliest opportunity.

The men grunted as they looked at his ID. “Whaddya want?” The bigger guy asked the question. The fellow had to be six foot seven, maybe eight, and his body was covered with brightly colored tattoos.

“We want to see Niol.”

“Do you now?” The other guy stepped forward, the radio gripped in his hands. “You got a warrant?”

Ah, definitely not new to the game. Colin glanced toward Brooks, saw from his partner’s lifted brow that he was thinking the same thing.

“We’re not here to search the bar,” Brooks told him, flashing his I’m-harmless-and-want-to-be-your-friend smile. “We just need to ask your boss a few questions.”

“Well, maybe he don’t wanna answer yer questions.” Tattooed crossed his beefy arms over his chest and glowered at them.

The radio crackled to life. The smaller guy pushed a button. “Yeah?”

“Let ’em through.”

Tattooed swore.

The smaller guy glared at them as he jerked his thumb toward the door. “Go on.”

“Thanks,” Colin muttered, and lifted his hand to his holster as he went inside. No telling what kind of reception Niol could have waiting for them…

The interior of Paradise Found was lit only by a few weak lights. Niol sat at a table near the bar, a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes. He didn’t rise when they approached, just inclined his head and said, “Detective, back so soon, eh?” A taunting smile curved his lips. “That’s the way it is for most folks. They find my place a bit…addictive.”

Yeah, he just bet they did.

“Drink?”

Colin shook his head.

“And what about you, Detective Brooks, can I get you a…whiskey, isn’t it? That is your drink of choice, right?”

“I’m not thirsty.” Brooks didn’t appear the least bit surprised that Niol knew who he was or even his favorite drink. The guy had always been able to bluff his way through anything.

The chair squeaked as Niol leaned back. “I take it this isn’t a social call?”

Colin reached into his jacket pocket. Pulled out the photos Smith had given him and tossed them onto the table. “Recognize these men?” They were head shots, but it was clear the guys were dead.

Niol touched one of the photos. “What happened to them?” Something that could have been anger hardened his words.

“Don’t you know?” Colin stared back at him and kept his body loose, ready.

Very slowly, Niol took off his glasses. Colin heard a faint gasp of surprise come from Brooks.

“You think I did this?” Eyes as black as night stared back at him. A table to the left began to tremble.

Colin wasn’t impressed. “Did you?”

“Not my style.” Niol shoved the pictures away. “If I’d attacked them, there wouldn’t have been enough left for a picture.”

His words had the ring of truth.

“You know them, don’t you?” Brooks asked as he stepped to the edge of the table.

Niol nodded. “I’ve seen them around Paradise.” A vague admission, nothing more, but Colin had seen the tightening of the man’s lips. The flaring of his nostrils. Hell, yeah, he knew the guys.

“You sent them to jump me and Dr. Drake the other night, didn’t you?” Colin leaned over the table, getting right in Niol’s face. He wasn’t scared of the demon, didn’t give a shit what level he was. If the guy had tried to have Emily killed, he was going to fucking rip him apart.

The demon didn’t so much as blink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!” Now Brooks was the one crowding him. He’d stalked around the table. Come right to Niol’s side. “You know who these guys are and you hired them to rough up my partner and the doctor!”

Niol sighed softly and pushed away from the table. “I can see this isn’t going to be a productive little talk.” He began to stand, but Brooks caught him by the shoulder, holding him in place.

“We’re not finished.”

Colin felt the push of power then, felt the stir in the air—

Brooks was shoved across the room. Shoved a good ten feet. But Niol never touched him. His partner crashed into a table, fell to the floor.

Brooks jumped to his feet. “You sonofabitch!” He ran forward, arms outstretched.

Colin stepped in front of him. “Easy.” The air seemed to be pushing against him, vibrating with malevolent force.

The doc would definitely have come in handy then.

“Keep your partner under control, Gyth.” Niol lifted his chin, stared at him with those creepy-as-hell eyes. “Or I will.”

“He assaulted me!” Brooks snapped, jerking his jacket back into place. “We can arrest the bastard.”

Niol shrugged. “I never touched you. Ask your partner, he’ll tell you.”

Colin’s jaw clenched. Brooks was no match for this guy. But Colin sure as hell would like to get two minutes alone with him.

“Don’t fuck with my partner again, Niol. You won’t like the consequences.”

A flash of amusement lightened his face. “You think you could actually take me on?”

A powerful shifter is the only Other that can match a demon’s strength. Emily had told him that. And the doc knew her supernaturals. “No, I know I could.”

The amusement vanished.

“Now cut the crap, Niol, and tell us what you know.”