Hotter After Midnight
Page 4

“Not going to happen.” She exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “So you can just forget about that. A kiss is one thing, shifter. Sex is a whole other game.”
He blinked. “Ah, now, baby, what makes you think I was—”
“Hands off, now, ” she snapped, not answering his question, but instead narrowing those gorgeous green eyes of hers.
He liked her eyes. Liked the dark, emerald green. Course, those eyes were starting to shine with a rather furious glint.
Reluctantly, he dropped his hands. Colin inhaled her delicious scent one more time, then he stepped back, completely freeing her.
Her hands dropped to her sides. “Future reference note.” Her chin jutted into the air. “If I want you to kiss me, I’ll tell you. I’m not a big fan of the He-man routine.”
“Ah, so you’re already thinking of our future.”
Her lips thinned.
“That’s fine, Doc. When you want to be kissed, you just let me know.” He’d be more than happy to oblige her.
“What I want is for you to go.” She pointed toward the door. “Now.”
Colin didn’t think that was what she really wanted. He could smell her arousal in the air, and her nipples were still tight with desire, thrusting against the white T-shirt she wore. But he nodded.
He’d accomplished most of his goals by coming to see the doc.
He’d discovered that she knew he was a shifter, and she’d given her word that she wouldn’t reveal his secret. For now, he’d take her at her word. Wasn’t like he had much choice in the matter. He’d try trusting her, and for the doc’s sake, he sure as hell hoped that she didn’t betray him.
So he’d gotten her to lay her cards on the table, and he’d finally gotten to taste her. For nearly three straight hours, he’d wanted to feel her lips beneath his. Now that he had, well, he wanted to taste her again.
And he would. Soon.
He stalked toward the front door, flipped the locks.
“You never wanted to talk to me about the case, did you?” Her voice stopped him.
Colin glanced back at her. She still stood against the wall, but her arms were crossed over her chest now and her left foot tapped out a hard rhythm on the floor. “I don’t want to talk about that yet.” Not until he’d gotten his report from the ME and he’d talked to McNeal about the possibility of bringing Emily on the case in a more official capacity.
If she was right, if the killer really was Other, then he figured the PD would need all the help it could get in solving the case.
And who better to hunt a monster than the good doctor?
“Would you work with us?” he asked as he began to make his plan of attack. McNeal had brought her on originally; he’d probably okay pulling Emily completely onto the case.
“Work with you?” Her foot stopped tapping. “I already did. I told you what I know and—”
“Lady, I have the feeling you know a hell of a lot more than you told me.” About the case, about him—but he’d deal with all that in due time.
Her expression never altered. “What is it you want from me?”
Once he’d gotten the official okay, he wanted her to be—“A profiler. I want you to give me a workup on this guy, want you to tell me exactly how he thinks, how he lives.” So that he could catch the bastard before he hurt anyone else. “Can you do that?”
She nodded.
“Then I’ll be seeing you soon, Doc.” And they’d start tracking a killer.
Hmmm. Not a usual date, but with the doc, he had a feeling he’d have to take what he could get.
They’d been inside the house for twenty minutes. The cop had gone in, like he owned the place, and he’d been inside with her for twenty minutes.
A slow rage began to build inside him. This shouldn’t have happened. This should never have happened.
Her front door opened. The cop appeared. He looked back at the woman, muttered something, then marched down the steps.
His body tensed as he watched them. He’d hidden himself well; they wouldn’t be able to see him in the darkness. He was—
The cop froze. Lifted his head. Looked slowly around the yard.
“What is it?” Her voice. Dr. Drake stepped onto the porch. The light cascaded over her. For an instant, with that shining light all around her, she almost looked like an angel.
But he knew she wasn’t an angel. No, not an angel. Never an angel. The doctor was a demon. Just like the others.
The cop was looking right at his hiding spot now. The guy took a step forward.
“Gyth? Is someone out there?” Dr. Drake crossed to the cop’s side.
A trickle of sweat slid down his cheek. He realized the crickets around him had stopped chirping. The night was quiet, too quiet.
Now wasn’t the time, he realized, inching deeper into the brush.
He’d come back for the doctor another night. Wait until she was alone.
Then he’d destroy the demon.
After all, hunting demons was his job.
Colin stared into the dark, twisted trees on the vacant lot across the street. For an instant, he’d sworn he’d heard something, someone.
He spared a quick look at Emily. She was gazing at the trees, a faint furrow between her brows.
“I want to check that place out,” he told her, and pulled his gun from the holster at his hip. “Stay here.”
He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed, just took off, moving slowly, stealthily across the street. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was just too damn tired, but he had to check the place out.
Because his instincts were screaming at him, and he never, ever ignored his instincts.
The faint scent of cigarettes teased his nostrils as he crept closer. Yeah, someone had been here all right.
But why?
The moonlight barely trickled past the trees, but he’d always had excellent night vision. Another little shifter side effect. So he could easily see the ground and the bent grass where someone had knelt, where someone had watched.
A growl rumbled in his throat.
His fingers tightened around the butt of his gun and—
A twig snapped behind him. He spun around, gun drawn, leveled, aimed, and ready to fire—
Right between Emily’s eyes.
“Dammit!” He lowered his gun. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
Her gaze followed the movement of the gun, then slowly lifted back to his face. “Yes, but I’m not a dog. I don’t generally ‘stay’
when I’m told.”
He realized the doctor was annoyed. Good. Matched him perfectly. “Future reference note,” he muttered, quoting her earlier words back to her, “when I give an order, there’s usually a damn good reason for it. And next time, you’d sure as hell better listen to me.”
Her lips tightened. “I thought you might need some help.”
“What?” Jesus. He was the cop! He didn’t need the mind doctor to back him up.
And he was a shifter—that fact alone meant he knew how to guard his own ass.
She muttered something beneath her breath, something he didn’t quite catch but sounded a lot like “asshole shifter.”
“Shit. Just stay behind me, all right?” He wanted to check out the thick patch of bushes up ahead. He strained, trying to listen for any telltale sound that might indicate the watcher was still there. But he heard only the call of crickets, the faint rustle of the leaves in the breeze.
He crept ahead, keeping his gun up. Emily’s soft footsteps whispered behind him.
With his right hand, he pushed back a mass of bushes. Saw only dark earth.
He looked up, gazing straight ahead. There was no sign of anyone else. He couldn’t hear anyone, and he had damn good hearing.
Looked like their watcher was gone.
Pity. He would’ve liked to have found out exactly why the sonofabitch was hanging outside the doc’s place.
He spun back around, frowning down at Emily. In the darkness, he knew she couldn’t see much of him, probably little more than the rough outline of his body. “You got any enemies I should know about, Doc?”
With his enhanced vision, Colin could see every detail of her face and body. He could easily recognize the sudden tension on Emily’s face.
“Doc?”
She swallowed. “No.”
He’d interrogated enough perps to know when someone was lying to him. But he decided not to push her. Not yet.
Colin pushed his gun back into its holster. “Well, looks like one of us managed to catch someone’s attention.” He stalked back to the circle of bent grass. Kneeling, he inhaled and caught the same stale scent of cigarettes he’d noticed earlier.
Someone had been hiding in the darkness, watching her or him. But why?
He sure as hell intended to find out.
But first—first he was going to discover just what sort of enemies the mysterious Dr. Drake had.
Chapter 3
“You wanna do what?” Danny McNeal shot forward in his worn leather chair.
Colin stared levelly back at him. “Hey, you’re the one who brought her in.” He paused, then said, “Now that the doc’s in the game, I want to keep using her.”
McNeal rubbed his right hand over his gleaming head. “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with here, Gyth.”
Oh, he had a pretty good idea.
“So what, one night you ran up on a vampire or a demon in the park? You saw they were real and now you think you’re some kind of hotshot who can go out and fight these things?”
Not exactly.
“Well, I’ve got news for you.” McNeal was glaring at him now, bushy brows lowered. “These things will eat you up and spit you out—literally.”
Not without a hell of a fight. “I know what I’m doing,” Colin told him, struggling to keep his voice level. He didn’t think the situation was a game, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to reveal his true nature to the captain.
Been there, done that, with shit for results.
McNeal grunted and spun his chair to face the small window in his office. The captain didn’t have much of a view. The window overlooked the back alley and two nearby buildings. But if you strained, you could just make out the green grass of the park in the distance.
“Have you got a report yet from Smith?”
He’d been in the medical examiner’s office all morning. “She’s not done with the autopsy yet, but her preliminary judgment is that Preston Myers was attacked by an animal.”
McNeal turned slowly back to face him. His fingers drummed on the arms of his chair. “We know that’s not the case.”
Yes, but proving it would be a whole different matter. “She thinks the vic was attacked by a dog or a wolf.” Colin tossed a manila envelope onto McNeal’s desk. “But judging by the bite radius, I’d say it could just as easily have been a vampire.”
“Shit.” McNeal squeezed his eyes shut. “Why couldn’t this asshole have stayed out of my town?” He huffed out a breath, cracked open his eyes, and studied Colin. “You think Dr. Drake was right? You think this bastard will kill again?”
Colin nodded. He had no doubt that the killer would strike again. The crime scene had been a bloodfest; that much rage, that much hate—no one could stay in control with that dangerous mix brewing inside.
Yeah, he’d kill again. Unless they stopped him.
“She’s got the credentials,” McNeal muttered. “The press will buy that we’re bringing her on as a profiler.” He leaned forward, grabbed a newspaper from the edge of his desk, and waved it in front of Colin. “Did you see what those idiots printed today? The guy’s had one kill and they’ve already given him a name.”
The black and white letters were stark: NIGHT BUTCHER CLAIMS VICTIM.
Oh Jesus. That was the last thing they needed. Night Butcher.
“No details of the body were released.” McNeal tossed the paper into the trash. “But some jerkoff managed to peer into the house with one of those high-powered lenses, and he caught a shot of all the blood.”
“He’s gonna like the name, you know,” Colin warned. He’d seen it before. Seen perps who got a high off the killing, but got an even bigger rush from the media attention that turned them into fucking celebrities.
“I know.” McNeal’s jaw clenched. “And I also know we’ve got jack for leads.”
It was time to seal the deal. Colin leaned forward. “That’s why we need the doc. She’s been treating guys like him for years; she knows how they think. She can help us, I know she can.”
The captain stiffened slightly. “I don’t think she’s been seeing guys quite like this one.” His lips thinned. “I don’t think the doctor makes a general practice of treating killers.”
“No, but we both know who she does treat.”
A reluctant nod. Then, “How do you know she’ll even agree to this? Emily doesn’t like attention, and when the press finds out, they’ll splash her name on every page of their rags.”
So she was Emily now. His eyes narrowed. There was familiarity there, a lot of it.
“Get her permission, and we’ll talk again—”
“I’ve already gotten it.”
“Do you now.” Not a question. McNeal narrowed his eyes, and Colin realized he’d just stepped on the captain’s toes.
Shit. He spoke slowly, carefully, as he said, “She agreed Friday night. Before I went to you with this plan, I needed to make sure the doc would be onboard.” And she’d agreed. Now it was just up to McNeal.
McNeal stared at him in silence a moment, two, then finally nodded. “Well, then I guess I’d better make a few phone calls and get her officially attached to the case.” He reached for his phone.