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Hotter After Midnight


Learning. Her heart was thumping like crazy. “Learning what?” Emily asked softly. Brooks and Colin were silent, watchful. And Colin still had his hand clamped on Bryan’s shoulder. “Learning our routines? Learning when we were alone, when we weren’t?” It was the only thing that made sense.


Bryan didn’t reply.


“Someone told you to watch us, right, Bryan?”


He turned to his lawyer. “I don’t want to talk to this demon bitch anymore.”


James raised his brows. “You heard my client.”


Dammit. Emily sucked in a sharp breath. The boy was stubborn. Scared to death. And not talking.


She wet her lips. There was one other method she could try.


Her psychic gift had never worked with humans. She couldn’t read them like she did the Other, and she’d only been able to pick up the barest of impressions in the past, but she didn’t have anything to lose by trying.


She inhaled deeply, exhaled. Kept her eyes locked on Bryan. And slowly lowered her mental shields.


She shouldn’t be here. Bastard marked her. Can see his fingers on her neck. She shouldn’t—


Colin’s thoughts hit her like a train, slamming into her mind with the force of his fury behind them.


Emily drew in another deep breath, tried to shift her focus away from him.


Kid’s lying. We’ve got to break him. I don’t want a dead cop on tomorrow’s news.


McNeal.


Another breath. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Bryan. Colin and McNeal’s thoughts became a distant buzz in her mind.


She couldn’t hear any thoughts from the boy. Couldn’t feel any emotions. She could see his fear and anger, see it on his face, but she couldn’t feel anything.


Catch had tried to teach her to hone her gift. During her “therapy” sessions, they’d spent hours trying to strengthen her abilities. But the lessons had never seemed to take.


She stared into Bryan’s eyes, stared straight into his black pupils and tried to put every ounce of her power into forming a link with him. The air seemed to thicken around her. To tighten and—


Emily jerked back, gasping. “He told you we were demons.”


Bryan shook his head. “You don’t know—”


Emily stood. She’d gotten only a vague impression from the boy. But it was all she’d need. She glanced at James. “Your client needs serious counseling. He’s not competent for trial.” No, he wasn’t competent. And it would take years to get him back to some semblance of normalcy.


Because a demon had been playing with his head. Twisting his thoughts. Using him.


She hadn’t been able to touch Bryan’s mind. The human mind was closed to her. But she’d touched the remnants of a demon’s power.


A very powerful demon.


She needed to talk with Colin and McNeal. Because either they were looking for two monsters who were working together or the killer was one damn strong hybrid.


A demon/shifter hybrid.


It was the deadliest combination she could think of, and the one guaranteed to bring a wake of murder and destruction to the city.


Something is wrong with Emily. Colin waited until another detective tagged out with him before he followed her out of the interrogation room.


She was standing next to McNeal, whispering furiously.


His insides tightened at the strained expression on her face. Oh yeah, something is definitely up.


He stalked toward and fought the urge to pull Emily against him. Now wasn’t the time.


When Trace had attacked her, the beast had snarled within him, and he’d thought, for one terrible, timeless moment, that he was going to shift. Right there, in front of a dozen cops.


But his control had held. He’d told Emily that the man controlled the beast. So far, that statement had been true in his life. He was realizing, though, that if anyone could make him lose control, it would be Emily.


“What the hell do you mean, two killers?”


“I don’t—” She broke off, glancing up at Colin’s approach. “Good. I wanted to talk to you.”


And he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than talk to her. “What’s happening?”


“During interrogation, umm, I–” She flushed, looking vaguely guilty and admitted, “I dropped my mental shields and tried to touch Bryan’s mind.”


“But he’s human.” A pause. “Isn’t he?” The kid didn’t smell like a shifter. He just smelled like prey. The way most humans did.


Except Emily.


She smelled like…roses. Cream. Woman.


“Yeah, he’s human. And I couldn’t read a thing from him.” She licked her lips. “But I felt the trace of power.”


“Whose power?” McNeal asked sharply.


“A demon’s. High level.” She glanced around quickly to make certain they weren’t being overheard. “Some demons can control humans, if they’re strong enough. Make them into puppets.”


“The possessed.” McNeal nodded, apparently familiar with the term.


“Right. I-I think that’s what happened with Bryan. He honestly doesn’t know why he thinks I’m a demon. He doesn’t know why he’s supposed to follow me. He just does.”


“Because some all-powerful demon put the idea in his head?” Colin frowned. “Look, that sounds crazy as—”


“It’s happened before. Many, many times. Demons kill this way—they keep their hands clean and let their puppets do the dirty work.” Emily met his gaze. “It even happened to me once.”


When she’d nearly been put into a coma.


“I was able to fight the guy off, but someone without my psychic gift, he’d be helpless.”


Possessed.


“So this punk’s been stalking, sorry, hunting, because some demon put it in his head that was his duty?” Sounded like bullshit.


Damn. Why couldn’t the cases be easy anymore?


“Yes, that’s exactly what I think happened.”


“So are we looking for two killers?” McNeal demanded. “Is the demon making the shifter take his kills? What in the hell is going on?”


“Actually, I think I know.” Colin spoke slowly. A powerful demon. A deadly shifter. He met Emily’s gaze and realized the doc was thinking the same thing.


Fuck.


There’s talk of a hybrid demon in town. A strong demon, a nine or ten. Niol’s words echoed in his mind. The sonofabitch had known, Colin realized. He’d known exactly what the killer was.


But did he know who he was?


“Doc, why don’t you give the captain a science lesson on hybrids.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door.


“Gyth! Where are you going?” McNeal called out.


He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “To Paradise. I’m going to find a demon and make the bastard tell me everything he knows about the Butcher.” And if he had to use claws and teeth to get the information, all the better.

“Wait! I’ll come, too! You’ll need me—”


Colin turned around, caught Emily by her wrists, and jerked her against him. “The fucking last place I want you to be is Paradise Found.” The killer could be there, waiting.


Her eyes seemed so wide behind her glasses, so green.


“I can help you, Gyth, just let me—”


He kissed her. A hard, fast kiss with his mouth open, his tongue stabbing deep. Yeah, it was unprofessional. Yeah, the captain saw him.


But he didn’t really care.


He pulled away from her. “I need to do this alone, Doc.” No Monster Doctor. No police partner. He inclined his head toward McNeal. “And it needs to be off the record.” Because he’d do whatever he had to do to catch the killer.


No more humans were going to die on his watch.


He didn’t wait for a reply. Just turned and marched away, his mind already on the coming confrontation.


It was time to find out once and for all just who was stronger—the beast or the demon.


Colin had been gone for four hours. Emily paced the lobby of the station. Shit. She should have forced Colin to take her with him.


Colin didn’t know the Other world like she did. He wouldn’t understand the demons, the vampires, the—Her cell phone beeped.


Colin. She grabbed the phone, frowning at the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number.


“Emily Drake.”


“Dr. Drake!” The voice was male. Highly agitated. Voices rumbled in the background. Music blared.


“Thomas? Is that you?” It sounded like her newest patient. She’d given him her number because of the serious nature of his situation, but—


“I-I c-can’t control it! I-I’m c-changing—”


Ice seemed to freeze her veins. “Where are you, Thomas? Thomas!”


“P-paradise Fou…” His words ended in a snarl of pain.


The line went dead.


Niol had gone to ground. Colin sat at the bar, a cold beer bottle in his hand, and turned to slowly survey the bar.


He’d searched for the demon. Gone to his house. Gone to the human girlfriend’s. But the demon was nowhere to be found.


Dammit.


He gulped down some of his brew, the slightly bitter taste burning the back of his throat. He turned back to face the bartender. He figured the guy for a demon. If the guy worked for Niol, he probably had to be. Something in the employment contract…


“So how much longer is he goin’ to keep me waitin’?”


The bartender—a big, tall, black guy—smiled. “As long as he wants.”


Colin sat his beer down very carefully. “You know, the game’s old now. You go tell your boss,” cause he had a feeling he was close by, “that if he doesn’t bring his pointy-tailed ass out here, I’m gonna get a warrant and bust into every room in this damn hellhole you call a bar.” He smiled, too, a smile that showed a lot of teeth. “And I bet I’ll find a few interesting surprises while the boys in blue and I search.”


The bartender stopped smiling. Glanced slightly over Colin’s shoulder.


Niol.


Colin spun around, claws ready, fangs bared, and caught the demon around the throat. He slammed him against the bar, holding him down with one hand.


The demon’s black eyes stared up at him. “Hello, shif…ter.” He choked a bit on the last word.


Emily had choked like that, when that bastard had wrapped his fingers around her.


With an effort, Colin loosened his hold. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me, Niol.” And he didn’t have time to pussyfoot around with him anymore. “I want the hybrid’s name.”


The bartender was standing stock still, staring at them.


Niol lifted his hand, waved him away, but his black stare never left Colin. “Let me go.”


“Tell me the name.” He wasn’t in the mood for this shit.


A fist plowed into his back. A strong, hard punch that drove straight into his spine.


Colin snarled and spun around. A demon stood behind him, fists raised. Colin kicked out at him, catching the guy in the ribs and sending him flying into a nearby table. People moved out of the way when the table and the demon crashed to the floor. But the music and dancing never stopped.


“Enough!” Niol ordered. He pointed at the fallen demon. “Mentaur, give us a minute.”


Mentaur rose to his feet, spit at Colin, then stomped away.


Colin stepped forward, that demon ass—


“You can’t expect to attack me and not get retaliation,” Niol informed him softly. “My men, they don’t like to see me bothered.”


Bothered. “Yeah, well, if you don’t tell me what I want to know in the next ten seconds, they’re going to see you bloody.” He lifted his claws. “And we don’t want that, do we?” The band began yelling a hard, fast tune. Guitars squealed.


Niol cocked his head to the side. “You’re convinced the hybrid’s behind the killings.”


“Aren’t you?”


Niol didn’t answer.


“His name. ”


“I don’t know it.”


“Bullshit, you know—”


“I know he’s in town because I felt the rush of his power the night you and the good doctor were attacked. But then, I’m sure she felt it too. Being as how she’s the professional at sensing our kind, I’m sure she got a better lock on him than I did.”


Niol sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know who he is. I only know that he’s out there. He’s not one of mine, shifter.”


“You’d better not be lying to me.” But wasn’t that what demons did? Lie? Twist the truth?


Damn. He should have brought Emily with him. She’d be able to sense the truth or the deception.


But he hadn’t wanted to risk her.


Hadn’t wanted to put her in any more danger.


“You think I don’t want this guy stopped?” Niol sounded mildly curious as he stared back at him.


“I think you don’t give a damn what happens to the humans.”


“But I do care about what happens to my kind.”


Gillian Nemont. “Where is she?”


Niol didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “She’s already been taken care of, shifter. She was his first victim.”


Sonofa— “Taken care of? What the hell does that mean?”


Niol’s black eyes hardened and the air vibrated with the force of his rage. “It means I didn’t want her dissected by one of the human doctors. Cut open. Studied. She deserved better than that.”


“So what? You took her body? Hid her? Took her clothes to make it look like she’d skipped town? Destroyed evidence—”

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