Midnight's Master. Cynthia Eden

Niol. I saw everything.” More than the detective had realized. His attention had been splintered. He’d been dealing with the approaching cops, trying to protect his succubus lover, and making sure the killer was down.

      But her eyes had been on Niol. She’d seen him. She knew exactly how dangerous he was.

      Niol didn’t need to rip and claw a man to shreds. He could use a stray thought to kill.

      Level-ten demon. There wasn’t a more powerful being in the Other world.

      She wasn’t going to pretend Niol was some kind of good guy. A demon with a pure heart. She knew what he was.

      And wanted him anyway.

      Talk about being screwed up.

      “Niol’s got quite a temper,” Brooks murmured. “Maybe that temper got out of control. Maybe he didn’t like other demons being near you, so he eliminated the competition.”

      Bullshit. If she and Niol were involved sexually, she doubted he would have considered a kid and a recovering drug addict to be much competition. Holly shook her head. “Niol didn’t even know I was working with them. And you’ve got the wrong idea, Niol and I—we—”

      The door to the interrogation room opened with a squeak. Easily, softly. Niol stood in the doorway, arms hanging loosely at his sides. “It’s time to leave, Holly.”

      She blinked. “Ah—”

      “What the hell?” Brooks shot to his feet. “Get out of here, asshole! I’m questioning her—”

      “Not anymore.” Niol’s gaze raked over Holly. “You all right?”

      Was that a thread of concern in his voice? Holly pushed back from the table, rising on legs that should have been steadier, but—

      It had been one hell of a night. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

      She tried to walk around Brooks, but his hand caught her wrist. “We’re not finished.”

      A growl. And one that didn’t come from the shifter standing just behind Niol.

      No, it came from Niol. “You don’t want to do that,” he said, and the words were dark and rumbling.

      The air around her suddenly felt thicker, colder—and then Todd’s hand was gone. Almost…wrenched away.

      The cop swore and stumbled away from her. “I’m not in the mood for your tricks, Niol!”

      “And I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.” He crossed the cramped space and took Holly’s hand. “We gave you half an hour. Answered your questions like the damn good citizens we are—now we’re leaving.”

      A muscle flexed along his jaw. His voice was controlled, but Holly realized Niol was seriously pissed.

      “Yeah, he’s got quite a temper,” Todd said again and tossed a calculating glance her way. “You sure that you want to leave with him, Storm?”

      Niol’s fingers caressed the skin over her wrist. A light, gentle touch. One he didn’t even seem to be aware of making.

      Her pulse jumped under that touch, a hard spike.

      Niol turned to meet her stare.

      Such dark eyes. A perfect black.

      Was his soul like that, too? Was she making a huge mistake?

      “I didn’t kill Carl or Sam.” The words were too loud, as if they were directed at the cops, but Niol’s eyes were for her only. “Holly knows that.”

      “You’ve killed in the past,” Gyth said, stalking into the room.

      Niol finally looked away from her. “Prove it.”

      “Fuck.”

      Holly saw the shark’s smile on the demon’s face. “Now get out of my way—and stay out of my way.”

      For a moment, Gyth’s eyes seemed to brighten, taking on a wild glow, but he clenched his jaw and stepped aside.

      Niol and Holly headed for the door.

      “Screw him, but don’t trust him.” The warning from Gyth had her stopping a foot away from the exit. “You’re not up to playing his games.”

      The detective didn’t know her very well. She gave him a hard grin, her own version of a shark’s smile. “Yes, I am.” She was tired of the warnings. The bullshit. She knew what she was dealing with when it came to Niol, and she knew that he was the one she needed to help her solve this mess.

      Keeping her head up, she walked out of that too-tight room and down the halls of the station, with her demon at her side.

      “That went piss poor.” Captain Danny McNeal eased back in his seat and glared at his two best detectives. He’d watched the interrogations and knew that as far as the case was concerned, they’d just gotten jack and shit.

      “The woman would have talked,” Collin said. “If the demon hadn’t gotten to her—”

      “No.” Danny was certain of this. “You’re not giving her enough credit.” That woman was good at keeping secrets—he’d seen it in her eyes.

      Why was she with the demon?

      A soft knock sounded at his door, and then, almost instantly, the knob turned and Nathalia Smith strode into the room.

      He tried not to look at her legs. Long, long legs. The skirt she’d worn today had been driving him crazy—ever since she’d given him that come-and-get-me smile as she pulled it on this morning, right after they’d gotten out of his shower.

      But that smile wasn’t on her face now. Her plump lips, sin sexy, were turned down and her eyes had narrowed to near slits. “We’ve got a problem,” she announced, lifting a file.

      Two problems, the way Danny saw it. Two dead bodies.

      Colin and Todd glanced toward her.

      “Some things are missing.”

      “Things?” Danny repeated softly, really not liking where this was going. Nathalia, well, Smith to the rest of the PD, took care of the stiffs. She was the best ME he’d ever met. The best-looking, too, but that was just a perk. The woman had a freaking genius-level IQ.

      She’d also been through hell recently, courtesy of a sick fuck who’d terrorized the city, but she was clawing her way back to normalcy.

      Or, what amounted to normalcy in this world.

      He took the folder from her, leafed through the pages, and knew that his blood pressure was rising even before the pounding began in his temples. “Shit. Tell me you’re not sayin’—”

      “The killer did a brutal job on them—Miters doesn’t have a heart anymore, and Bronx is missing a kidney.”

      “What?” The shock was from Todd. Understandable. Like Nathalia, he was a human. Still capable of being shocked, even though he was mated to a demon.

      “Why the hell would someone take organs?” The disgust, that came from Colin. Colin was a damn fine detective. His shifter senses made him a state-of-the-art hunter, and few prey ever escaped him.

      “Because we’ve got another sick freak on the streets,” Danny growled, and knew it was the absolute truth. Hell, just great. Someone was slicing demons, stealing body parts, and a reporter was right in the middle of the whole stinking mess.

      His luck was always fuck poor.

      And this was the last story that he wanted to see headlining the evening news.

      “Who knows this?” There were leaks in his department, leaks in every department. And Niol had too many contacts. His demons were everywhere, even in the Atlanta PD.

      Those demons—they kept the peace, upheld the law, and