Midnight Sins

  “That’s your dick talking,” McNeal snapped.

  Todd stepped forward, body tense.

  McNeal glared right back at him. “Gyth . . .” He never took his eyes off Todd. “Bring her in.”

  He felt, rather than saw, his partner’s hesitation. “Her story checked out, Captain—and the alibis—they were given by demons and a witch, not humans.”

  “Like demons and witches don’t lie.” McNeal shook his head. “I want Ms. Firon here to-damn-day.”

  Todd realized that his hands were clenched into fists. “You’re wasting time.”

  “Gyth—get out of here.” McNeal barked the order, then glared at Todd a full minute before saying, “Brooks, you’d better start talking—fast—and let me know why I should keep you on this case. If Cara’s guilty—”

  “She’s not.” Gut, psychic edge, whatever the hell it was—every instinct he possessed screamed her innocence.

  The woman had lied to him, though. A sex demon. Shit. She should have told him—

  “You’d damn well better prove she’s not involved in these killings—convince me, or your lover is going to find her ass in jail.”

  She was back in the station again. Back in the same dingy interrogation room. Sitting at the same scarred table and sitting in the same chair that tilted slightly to the right.

  And Cara was pissed.

  “Why isn’t Detective Todd Brooks in here?” She demanded, glaring at the stony visage of his partner.

  Gyth shrugged. “Because I’ve got questions for you.”

  Screw his questions—and screw him. “Does he know what you’ve done? That you dragged me out of my house—”

  “Politely escorted—”

  “Handcuffed me—”

  “For your own protection—”

  “Cut my hair—”

  “You agreed to that sample—”

  “And put me back in this shitty room—”

  He cleared his throat. “Interrogation rooms aren’t supposed to be pretty.”

  Her nails tapped against the table top. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression we’d already done this dance before. My alibis checked out, remember? I even got a nice apology from your partner.”

  “You left out a few facts when you were here before.” He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table. Flipped it around. Straddled it as he sat down.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, like the fact that you’re a demon. You didn’t mention that little tidbit the first time around.”

  He’d told her secret. “Todd . . . discussed that with you?” It hurt. In the heart that others had said she didn’t have. To think that Todd had run straight from her bed to the station so that he could tell his buddies what a freak of nature she was—

  Cara straightened her shoulders. “I want to see him.”

  “Don’t think that’s the best idea,” he murmured.

  Like she gave half a rat’s ass what he thought. Her nails scraped over the old wood. “Look, shifter—”

  His jaw tensed. “How do you—”

  “I want to see Todd. If I don’t see him, I’m done talking. Done being the good citizen and putting up with all this bullshit.” She’d call Niol, and he’d make the cops sorry they’d even thought to question her. “You don’t want to mess with me. I’ve got friends—you can’t even imagine how strong they are. Not even in your darkest dreams.”

  He leaned forward. “You threatening me?”

  Cara shrugged. She was done talking. Unless she got to see Todd.

  “He’s been watching you.” Gyth pointed his index finger toward the mirror. “Listening to you.”

  Not a newsflash. She could feel his stare. He’d been in and out of the other room since she’d been dumped in interrogation. But she didn’t want to admit her knowledge to the cop, so she’d asked her questions—

  And gotten more damn enraged by the moment.

  Todd should have his ass in there. What game was he playing now? What—

  “If he wanted to talk to you, he’d be here—”

  The door shoved open before Gyth could finish his sentence. Banged back against the wall with a thud. Todd stood in the doorway, face flushed, eyes glinting.

  He looked furious. Body tight. Hands clenched.

  Just the way she felt. “Been telling stories, have you, Todd?” She asked softly, tilting her chin back just the slightest bit. Seeing him again stirred an ache inside her. The hunger hadn’t abated. The need was still there, even though he’d turned on her.

  She could be such an idiot sometimes.

  “I didn’t have to tell him. Gyth already knew.” He slammed the door shut with his heel, then stalked toward her.

  Ah. Her gaze darted back to the other cop. Shifter nose.

  “And how’d you know about me?” Gyth asked.

  A shrug. Not like it was confidential information or anything. “When you smelled my pheromones, you stepped back. Demons, humans, vamps—they all come closer.”

  A growl sounded. It didn’t come from the shifter, but from Todd. “So you’ve got a lot of... experience luring men, do you?”

  She didn’t like his tone. Not. One. Bit.

  “But you’re a sex demon, right? So screwing men, draining them, even killing them for sensual power—that’s just right up your alley, isn’t it?”

  What the hell was happening? Was this some really nightmarish game of bad cop, bad cop? What had happened to her tender lover?

  He’d left when he found out what I truly am.

  The air in the room thickened around her. “I don’t like the term ‘sex demon.’ ” Her head cocked to the right. “I find it offensive.” As offensive as she found the rest of his words. She’d made love with him the night before. She hadn’t just been screwing around.

  Her fingers flattened against the table. Deep groves indented the surface, courtesy of her nails. Her gaze held Todd’s. “And I am not, not, going to apologize for being what I am.” She’d been born a demon. Unchangeable fact. She was a demon, one that, after she hit adulthood, needed a certain powerful energy to continue living. Not her fault. Just the hand of fate.

  “You’re not going to apologize for killing?” Gyth asked. “Damn ballsy of you.”

  Now she had to be careful. “And just who is it that you think I killed? I’ve already told you that I had nothing to do with Michael’s death, or the others you mentioned and—”

  “But you didn’t tell us that Simon Battle liked to come to Paradise Found and listen to you sing.” Todd was at the edge of the table. Hands fisted. Brows low over his eyes, and jaw clenched tight.

  “What? Who?”

  “Simon Battle.” Gyth slid the eight-by-ten photo across the table. “Victim number one, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Her gaze flickered to the photo. She inhaled sharply. “I don’t know him.”

  “But he knew you,” Todd told her. “In fact, according to the guy’s friends, he made it a habit to go and catch your show once a week.”

  “I’ve only been singing at Paradise Found for a little over two months—”

  “And he caught one of your shows every week.”

  Cara studied the photo, tried to block the pain that shook her. The man’s eyes were closed. There was nothing particularly familiar about the guy. He was attractive, with strong features and a faint dimple in his chin. His hair was brushed back from his high forehead.

  Yeah, a good-looking, dead guy. One she didn’t know. Her eyes lifted back to Todd’s. “You’ve been at Paradise when I sing.”

  Gyth swore.

  She ignored him, continuing, “You know how packed that place can get. With the lights on the stage, it’s not like I can see every man in the crowd.”

  “But they can all see you.”

  “So?”

  He opened his mouth, began to snap, “That’s just what you—”

  “How’d a human get inside Paradise so often?” Gy
th demanded, cutting across Todd’s angry words.

  Cara blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Humans get in all the time. Those who know about us sometimes like to play.”

  “And Niol lets them?”

  “As long as no one gets seriously hurt in his place, Niol tolerates just about anything.”

  “You know him pretty well.” Todd’s voice was controlled now, too controlled.

  Cara nodded.

  “He’s like you, right?”

  “Not exactly.” Niol wasn’t an incubus. Just a full-blooded, deadly dangerous warrior ... who happened to be a level-ten demon.

  He’d also been her sister’s lover. Years ago.

  “What about him?” Gyth pushed another photo in front of her.

  She really didn’t enjoy looking at photos of dead men. Cara spared a brief glance for the still features of the handsome man, felt pity stir in her heart. “Am I supposed to know him, too?”

  “Travis Walters. Until recently, he lived on your block. We found out he moved about five months ago.”

  “And I moved in less than four.” She wanted to jump up, to scream and rage at Todd. How could he be doing this? Did he really think she’d murdered these men? How the hell could he go from making love to her to—to treating her like a prime suspect?

  She wanted to punch him. She wanted to scream.

  Damn it, she even felt stupid tears welling in her eyes.

  This shit sucked!

  “Tell me, Cara . . .” Todd’s tone was so sharp it could have cut glass. “Can a succubus really kill her lover?”

  “You’re still alive, aren’t you?” She flared, driven to the edge. She was about to snap. One more smartass comment from her lover and—

  “Can a succubus kill?”

  Cara shot to her feet. “Anyone can kill under the right circumstances.” He should know that. After all, he’d admitted his own crimes to her.

  “But what about killing without damaging the body? Without breaking the skin at all?” Gyth asked.

  Her stare never left Todd. “What am I? Your prime suspect or some kind of expert on demons?”

  Todd’s lips tightened and gaze dropped to her lips. She saw hunger flicker in those eyes, need. Anger. “You’re both.”

  “And you’re a damn jerk.” Why did she always have to fall for the wrong man? And, shit—these questions, they weren’t just about her being a suspect, Cara realized with a sinking heart. Todd and Gyth thought the killer was a succubus.

  And they knew she was a succubus.

  Oh, hell.

  “Is it true that succubi are territorial? That only one or two hunt in a city at a time?” Gyth just kept pressing with his questions. Firing one after the other.

  And then she realized what they were doing. Todd was the distraction. Gyth was the real threat. He was hitting her, trying to uncover any secrets she might have.

  Fine. If they wanted some secrets, she’d tell them. Nothing too dangerous, of course. But... “Yeah, we’re a bunch of possessive bitches.” A faint shrug. “Usually one, maybe two in a city—”

  “How many are in the city now?” Gyth fired.

  She paused. Okay, this was gonna look bad, but she’d give them the truth. “As far as I know ... I’m the only one.”

  The two men shared a dark look.

  Hell. Jeez, Cara, why not just ask your lover to lock you up and toss that key away next time?

  “As far as you know . . .” Todd repeated carefully. “Does that mean another succubus could be in the city?”

  “Possibly,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

  “You sense each other, don’t you?” Gyth’s question was hard.

  “Just like you’d know another shifter.” She pushed back the hair that wanted to tumble over her eyes. “Look, it’s possible another succubus is in Atlanta—if she’s stayed far enough away from me, I wouldn’t have sensed her, so I can’t say with complete certainty—”

  “What about the men?” Todd asked quietly.

  Cara frowned. “There aren’t any other—”

  “Incubi.”

  Oh. A shrug. “Yeah, some of ’em are in Atlanta.” The incubi outnumbered the succubi nine to one, so they’d had to learn long ago how to share the prime cities. It had been a real bloodbath at first. Too many men. Too much aggressive hunting instinct bred into the blood.

  She smiled at Todd, a deliberate, seductive smile, and let her scent out, full-force.

  The shifter swore. “Man, be careful.”

  Too late. Her fragrance was in the air, seducing, and she saw the telling twitch of Todd’s nostrils.

  Cara put her hand on his chest. Just as she’d done last night, when no clothes separated her from his flesh. His heart thundered beneath her touch. Not just from anger. The desire was there—on his face and in his eyes. “Poor detective. Wanting something that you hate.”

  His hand flew up. His fingers locked around her wrist in a hard, steely grip. “I don’t hate you, Cara.”

  “But you fear me.” And suspected her of murder, apparently, again. Damn it. Could things not just work out well for her one time?

  “No, baby, I don’t fear you.” He leaned in closer to her.

  “I’m pissed as hell—you should have told me the truth—all of the truth, damn it—about yourself.”

  Ah, he meant the little succubus part of her demon-hood. “I would have told you—you didn’t give me enough time before you ran out—”

  “I didn’t run! Shit! I had a job waiting on me, fucking cases. I was coming back to you tonight—but then I found out a succubus is killing in the city and oh, guess what, my girlfriend just happens to be a succubus—”

  His girlfriend? Okay, she pushed that part aside, for now. “Todd—what makes you think the killer’s a succubus? We don’t kill.” Anymore. “We get along with humans, we don’t hurt—”

  “Somebody sure as hell is,” Gyth murmured.

  “Tell me it isn’t you,” Todd said, the words fierce, cutting her like a too-sharp knife.

  Did he truly think she’d gone on some kind of sex spree and killed those three men?

  His skin was warm against hers. The scent of his body reminded her—too much—of the pleasures they’d shared. But his eyes held secrets ... and suspicions?

  Fuck him.

  “So was it a game?” The words burst from her as the anger raged past the pain. “Coming to Paradise, dancing with me, going home with me—was it all some trick? You still think I’m a killer and—”

  “I think you’re a sex demon—”

  “Succubus.”

  “And you just confirmed that your kind aren’t exactly tripping over each other in the city.”

  “I. Didn’t. Kill. Them!” But if they knew a succubus was involved... “And you know what, Detective, it sounds to me like someone has been feeding you information about my kind. What’s the deal? You got your own demon expert somewhere around here?” Her gaze jumped to the mirrored wall. “Maybe right there?”

  “Maybe.” The drawl came from Gyth.

  Her gaze jerked back to Todd. He stared down at her, too handsome, too fierce.

  Too human. Humans and their suspicions. Always so quick to judge.

  Her temper snapped. “Arrest me or let me go.”

  “I’m not letting you go.” Todd shook his head.

  “Well, then you’d damn well better—”

  His jaw worked a moment, as if he struggled to find words then, “I-I believe you, Cara.”

  “What?” Gyth demanded. “Brooks, are you crazy—”

  “She’s not a killer.” He cut across Gyth’s snarl with one of his own. “I fucking told you and McNeal that already—”

  Her lips parted. What?

  “She’s in here now because procedure demanded it, but Cara’s alibis checked out, she’s cooperated, and she’s not a damn killer!”

  Okay, the man was making her head swim. “If you knew I was innocent, why did you put me through this shit?”

&
nbsp; He jerked his thumb toward the mirror. “So the asshole in there would know you were innocent, too.”

  She blinked. “Ah . . .”

  He faced the mirror. “Reactions, right, Captain? That’s what you wanted to see. Well, judge her. I say she’s innocent. If you think she’s a murderer, then come in now.”

  Don’t come in. The words flew through Cara’s head.

  Silence.

  Then a curse from Gyth. “Fucking ballsy.”

  Todd grunted then glanced back at her. “I have to do my job. Always. Remember that.”

  She was trying to play catch-up, fast. So, Todd had been forced to question her by his captain? He still believed she was innocent?

  But ... from the look on his face, he was pissed at her.

  Because I didn’t tell him I was a succubus.

  Damn.

  “You had to be questioned, Cara.” Todd spoke, voice softer now, more controlled. “And you had to come in because, hell, Cara, I really do want your help.” He glanced at Gyth. “We need your help.”

  Her knees were shaking. “Just what do you want me to do?” Her anger had cooled a bit, replaced by confusion, fear, and other emotions that she didn’t want to analyze too much.

  Todd sighed and the look on his face told her she wasn’t going to be loving what came next. “Well, first, baby, we’re gonna need you to look at a body.”

  No, not loving it at all.

  He hated battering her with questions. Hated watching the play of stark emotions run across her face.

  For a few moments, she’d looked almost broken. Then the anger—no, rage—had kicked in.

  And the lady had looked like she wanted to kick his ass.

  Not the normal pattern for a killer—he sure as hell hoped McNeal realized that fact, and got off his back.

  The captain had wanted to yank him from the case the minute he’d learned about Todd’s night with Cara. He’d argued for an hour with McNeal, listing every reason, five times, why Cara couldn’t be the killer.

  Damn, but he hoped he wasn’t wrong.

  His gut said he should trust her.

  His cock said he should take her.

  And his heart said he was in serious trouble.

  He was out on a limb now with the captain. A very thin limb that could break at any point, but the fact was, if Cara wasn’t the killer, then seeing as how it looked like another succubus was on the loose, she’d be the best person to guide them in their hunt.