Hotter After Midnight
Page 2

The woman wasn’t cute, she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she was pretty. Nice heart-shaped face, a chin that was a little too pointed, high cheekbones and perfect bow red lips.
And her body. Very, very nice. Round, firm breasts. Long, shapely legs. When she’d climbed into his Jeep, her black skirt had hiked up two inches and he’d been given a glorious glimpse of her thighs. The woman had a killer pair of legs.
And he’d always been a sucker for great legs.
“I-is this the place?”
He stiffened at the sound of her voice. That warm, husky Southern drawl. He could imagine hearing that voice late at night, when they were in bed.
What the hell? Colin shook his head. Now was not the time to start fantasizing about the doctor. He was on a case. And really, the lady wasn’t his type. He’d never gone for the brainy broads. He liked the party girls. The here-today-gone-tomorrow-no-questions-asked girls.
And as for the doc, well, damn, she asked questions for a living.
Definitely not his type.
He cleared his throat, dragged his gaze from her legs, and glanced at the brightly lit house. Teams of cops were scouring the yard, shining flashlights, interviewing neighbors. “Yeah, this is it.”
He wasn’t sure why McNeal had ordered him to pick her up. But, hey, he’d been around long enough to learn that when the captain gave an order, you followed it.
He shoved open his door, started to walk around and let the doc out, but she jumped from the vehicle and headed for the house.
A uniformed cop stepped in front of her, holding up his hand as she approached the house’s open front door. “Hey, lady, you can’t go in there—”
“Yes, she can.” McNeal’s gravelly voice. The captain tapped the cop on the shoulder as he appeared directly behind the young guy in the entranceway.
The patrol cop gulped, mumbled an apology, and seemed to slink away.
“Hi, Danny.” A hint of warmth crept into Emily’s voice.
Colin’s eyes narrowed as he stalked behind her. Just what was her relationship with the captain?
Danny McNeal was one of the toughest sonofabitches he’d ever met. The guy was in his early forties, completely bald, and built like a linebacker.
And, as far as Colin knew, the guy wasn’t a shifter, a demon, or any other sort of monster.
Just your average bad-ass human.
So how did the guy know the Monster Doctor?
When McNeal hugged Emily, Colin stiffened and a hot lick of something that sure as hell couldn’t be jealousy ripped through him.
No, it couldn’t be jealousy. He’d just met the woman less than thirty minutes ago. He didn’t have a claim on her.
The captain’s hands seemed to linger around Emily, and Colin got the impression that there was some genuine affection between the two. Were they lovers?
McNeal’s gunmetal gray eyes met his. “Colin, give us a minute.”
His jaw clenched as he nodded, then he stepped back a few feet. He could have stepped back twenty feet, it wouldn’t have made any difference. McNeal might think he was getting some privacy, but thanks to his enhancements, Colin had hypersensitive hearing.
“I need your help,” McNeal murmured.
Colin turned his back on them, watched the cops searching the area.
“There’s a body inside,” his captain continued, his voice little more than a whisper of sound. “I need to know if he’s human or…”
He let his sentence trail off. There was a moment of silence, then he said, “I know you can tell if someone’s Other just by being near if the subject is alive, but will you be able to tell when he’s dead?”
Oh shit. Every muscle in Colin’s body tightened. Other was the general term for any magical being, a catch-all phrase that had evolved years ago.
His eyes squeezed closed and he began to sweat. The doc could tell if you were Other just be being near you? If that were true, then he was seriously screwed.
No one on the force knew about him. And if anyone found out, if the captain were to learn—
“I can tell,” Emily finally spoke, and her voice was just as quiet as McNeal’s. “If the death is recent, some of the spirit will still be there.”
Damn. Damn. Damn. His eyes snapped open. The woman could tell if a dead guy was human or Other. Then she had to know about him.
But why hadn’t she said anything? She’d gotten into his Jeep, as calm as you please, driven for miles, and never said a word about him being—
“The guy died less than two hours ago.”
“Then I can tell.”
“I’m also gonna need an idea of what did this.”
What, not who, Colin noticed. He’d seen the body earlier, and he knew exactly why his captain was suspecting that the killer hadn’t necessarily been human.
“I’ll do my best,” Emily promised.
McNeal grunted. Then, “Colin, come here!”
Colin glanced back over his shoulder, carefully avoiding Emily’s stare. He’d deal with her later.
McNeal motioned toward the door. “Show her the vic.”
He sauntered up the steps, brushed his body lightly against hers as he passed. “Hope you’ve got a strong stomach.” It was all the warning he’d give her. He didn’t think she’d be able to handle the body inside too well. Colin could still smell the stench of vomit from the first two green cops who’d found the victim.
He led her inside, past the gleaming parquet flooring in the foyer, past the spiral staircase, and straight to the body.
Or what was left of it.
“Oh my God! ” She sucked in a sharp breath. Stumbled to a stop near the puddle of congealed blood.
He glanced at her face then. The color had bleached away. And her eyes, so big, so wide, were full of horror.
The impulse to touch her, to comfort her, rushed through him. His hand lifted.
She fell to her knees beside the body.
His fingers balled into a fist, dropped to his side.
A faint tremble shook her. She stared at the man’s body. Gazed at his face, at the eyes that were wide open, staring at the ceiling in abject terror, at the mouth that was contorted in a final, silent scream.
Then her focus shifted to his neck, to the neck that had been ripped wide open.
“I-I need to see Captain McNeal.” She rose to her feet, swaying for a moment.
Is the guy human? His teeth snapped together as he bit back the question. It was his damn case. He needed as much information as he could get, and he didn’t want the doc and the captain keeping him in the dark.
He had a killer to find, and whether the guy was just a crazy-ass human or something more, he needed all the information about the perp he could get.
He lifted his hand, motioned for McNeal, and watched as his captain hurried across the room.
“Ah, Colin, can you excuse us for a minute?” He reached for Emily’s arm.
Colin stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his move. “I wanna hear what she’s got to say.” His eyes met McNeal’s.
A muscle flexed along McNeal’s jaw. “I’ll let you know the doctor’s opinion—”
Not good enough.
Emily pushed past him, stopped beside the captain.
Colin slanted a quick glance at her, then said, “I wanna know what the Monster Doctor thinks.”
She jerked, a slight but telling movement.
So did the captain.
McNeal’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you know?”
“Enough.” Most folks didn’t know about the creatures that lived right next to the humans, didn’t know about the dangerous world that existed in the shadows.
People thought monsters lived in horror movies. Thought that life was about birthday parties, Christmas trees, and summer vacations.
But he knew better. Hell, he’d lived most of his life in the darkness that everyone else feared. He knew the smell of evil, had seen firsthand just how perverted the world could be.
Yeah, he knew about the monsters.
After all, he was one of them.
McNeal glanced around at the other cops. At least five other officers—three men, two women—were in the room. He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen.
Emily nodded her understanding and led the way to the white swinging door.
No cops were inside. The kitchen had already been cleared.
McNeal waited until the door swung shut behind Colin, then he growled, “This doesn’t go past the three of us, got that, Gyth?”
Colin nodded.
“Good.” McNeal leveled his stare at Emily. “Well?”
“He was human.”
A grunt. “Good. At least I don’t have to worry about the ME finding two hearts inside the guy….” He blew out a hard breath.
“After a couple of times, those explanations get harder to make.”
Yeah, he just bet they did. Colin kept his attention on Emily. “So, Doc, any ideas about what might have done that to him?”
She nibbled her lower lip for a moment, then said, “It could have been an animal attack, maybe a dog—”
But the captain was shaking his head. “The owner of the house has one of those fancy security systems with cameras trained on the doors. We’ve got a picture of the perp—a guy in a black hood who was smart enough to keep his damn face hidden—and there’s no animal with him.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“So what do you think, Doc?” Colin pressed. “What kind of thing could have done this?”
Her head cocked to the side and she studied him with that too-knowing gaze of hers. “Well, Detective,” she finally murmured, “the way I figure it, there are three prime suspects.”
He didn’t speak, just waited for her.
She held up one finger. “A vampire.”
A second finger. “A demon.”
Third finger. “Or”—she stared straight into his eyes—“a shifter.”
“A shifter?” McNeal whistled softly. “What kind of shifter would do that?”
Her shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. “A bear. A panther, any kind of wildcat really, or…a wolf.” Her green eyes were still on him.
Watching, weighing.
Judging.
With an effort, Colin managed not to squirm.
McNeal made a faint hmmming sound. “Is there any way to tell for certain?”
“The ME might be able to tell if it’s a shifter.” She pulled off her glasses, polished them absently on her shirt.
Colin blinked. Oh, he liked her without the glasses. She looked softer, sweeter, like—
“He can look for animal hairs. Compare the radius of the bite marks to let us know what we’re looking at.”
Colin raised his brows, impressed. The doc might specialize in mind games, but she knew a bit of forensics too.
Her gaze drifted to the white door that stood between them and the den, between them and the body. “There is so much rage here,” she whispered softly. “I can feel the echoes.”
And just how the hell could she do that?
The doc was a bigger mystery, and a hell of a bigger threat to him, than he’d originally thought.
“You have to find this guy.” She swallowed, straightened her shoulders and seemed to shake off a heavy weight. “Before he does this again.”
Colin stiffened. “Again?” He repeated softly. So far, they just had one body. Sure, the killer had obviously been in a fury—there was blood everywhere, pooled near the victim, smeared on the walls, the furniture, but that didn’t mean they were dealing with a serial—
“He’ll do it again.” She sounded absolutely certain.
McNeal swore beneath his breath. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
Colin stepped toward her, stepped right in front of her so that barely an inch separated them. “And how do you know that?”
“Because now he’s gotten a taste for the kill.” Her gaze held his. Her breath blew lightly across his skin. Her scent, the light, fragrant scent of roses, filled the air around him. “Once a creature like this gets a taste, there’s no going back.”
The good doctor sure as hell sounded like she knew what she was talking about. But he hoped, hoped with every fiber of his being, that she was wrong.
Because if one of his kind really was off on a killing spree, then the humans were screwed.
Chapter 2
She couldn’t get the dead man out of her head.
Emily stared blankly at the flickering TV screen, a bowl of Dutch chocolate ice cream in her lap, a spoon gripped tightly in her fist.
She’d left the crime scene long ago. Been driven back to her office by one of the patrolmen on duty. She’d thanked the fellow, very politely, then gotten into her car and traveled home. And she’d been shaking the whole time.
Dammit. It wasn’t as if that had been the first dead body she’d ever seen.
She’d found her grandmother after her heart attack, and her father after his suicide.
She stabbed the spoon down into the rapidly melting chocolate. No, it hadn’t been her first dead body, but the sight had still hit her like a punch in the gut.
Jesus. There had been so much blood.
And she currently had four vamps as patients, so it wasn’t as if she weren’t used to dealing with blood. Every time she touched their thoughts, images of blood took center stage.
But tonight, that man…he’d been different. The vamps she saw treated blood like it was sacred. To them, blood was life.
Yet when she’d seen the crime scene, the blood had meant nothing more than death.
I have to stop thinking about the body. Emily took a big bite of the ice cream, feeing the cold, delicious chocolate slide over her tongue.
Her toes curled into her carpet. Oh, that was better. That was—