Midnight's Master. Cynthia Eden

      “Yes, Holly, you do.” Her heart still pounded too fast, her nipples were still pebbled, and her cheeks were flushed—all from hunger.

      Need. For him.

      “I’m not going to play.” Her hand dropped. “I’m going to do my job—and find out what happened to Carl. With or without your help.”

      He stared at her. Such a shame. They would have been good together. The sex, well, it would have been pretty phe-nomenal. All that fire she had—oh, yeah, phe-nomenal.

      Pity.

      Niol shook his head. “Sorry, love, it’s going to be ‘without.’” Then he did the only thing he could do.

      He turned around and walked away from her.

      As he stalked toward the SUV, he felt her eyes on him.

      His hand lifted, reached for the door.

      “Niol.”

      Oh, but the woman’s voice could get to him. It was the soft huskiness when she said his name. Like a stroke right over his cock.

      But he didn’t look at her. Niol opened the door.

      “You have to care.” Her voice sharpened. “You play the bastard, but Carl was little more than a kid, and one of yours. You have to care—”

      The laughter escaped then. He just couldn’t help it. He stepped back and glanced over at her. “Have you forgotten so soon, sweet? The incubus who took you that night, he was one of my kind, too—and I burned him,” the fire had been so beautiful, “from the inside out.”

      She flinched.

      His lips were twisted in a smile that he knew could chill. “I kill my kind.” The incubus hadn’t been the first, and he wouldn’t be the last. “I don’t go out on a crusade to save them…or any humans who are dumb enough to get involved in a world they can’t understand.”

      “You’re a cold bastard, Niol.”

      So he’d been told.

      “I’m not going to walk away. I’ll find out what happened—”

      He climbed into the SUV. He couldn’t spend any more time with her. Not out in the open.

      You never knew who watched in this city.

      He had spies, but so did the other powerful SBs who fought for control of Atlanta.

      SBs…supernatural beings, or, as Holly would probably have said, supernatural bastards.

      He didn’t look at her as he cranked the engine and drove away. Didn’t look back. Long ago, he’d learned not to look back.

      Poor Holly Storm. He’d tried to warn her. Now, she was going to find death.

      Or death would find her.

      Chapter 3

      So she’d struck out with the demon. Not the biggest surprise in the world.

      The next day, Holly stood on a street corner in what was so not the best part of the city. She’d hoped to score big by forming a partnership with one of the most respected—okay, feared—demons in Atlanta. Sure would have helped out her investigation. But since Niol had made it abundantly clear he only wanted her for sex, he wasn’t an option.

      Although the thought of sex with Niol had been playing through her mind and her dreams for weeks.

      Dammit. Sexy. Scary. She’d really never been attracted to bad boys. Not her type. Her ex-fiancé was a professor at Mellrune University. She liked smart men. The sophisticated guys.

      The guys who made her feel safe.

      Or, they did until, like Zack, they started screwing around on her with students.

      Asshole.

      What a jerk he’d—

      “You shouldn’t be here.”

      The husky words, coming from right behind her, made Holly jump.

      She turned and came face-to-face with a man, the top of his head and most of his body covered by a long cloak. His face, whiter than the snow she saw too rarely, was swollen, his lips blood red.

      “Sam.” She exhaled in relief. “Thanks for meeting me. I need to ask—”

      But he shook his head. “You don’t need to ask me a damn thing.” His gaze jerked to the left, then to the right. “What you need to do is lose my number.”

      Her mouth dropped. “What? Sam, we have an arrangement—”

      “Not anymore.” He huffed out a breath and a plume of smoke appeared before him. The icy blast was continuing. The station weather guy had told her it would stay cold for at least the next five days. Having the inside scoop really didn’t help her much, though.

      Holly pulled her coat closer to her body.

      “Forget me, Storm. Forget my name, forget anything I ever told you.”

      Not what she needed to hear right then. Anger began to warm her. “He got to you, didn’t he?”

      Sam’s thick lips trembled. “Who? Who?”

      She blinked. Okay, the guy had always been a little intense.

      But she’d discovered that most demons were.

      “Niol.” Damn. If he wouldn’t help her, the least he could do was stay out of her way. “He told you not to talk to me, didn’t he?” Sam had been giving her info about the demon world for the last four weeks. Ever since she’d found him passed out against the wall of a basement when she’d been doing her meth lab investigation piece.

      High as hell, he hadn’t been able to control his glamour. His eyes had flashed night black at her, and she’d known the truth about him.

      She’d been helping him to get straight. Helping him to kick his addiction because she knew just how dangerous such an addiction could be. She had the personal experience and the memory of her brother’s screams to remind her.

      “Niol’s involved? Fuck, I’m out of here.” He turned to go.

      “No!” Holly grabbed his arm. “Wait! If Niol didn’t tell you to stonewall me, then who—”

      But he shook her off. “Watch your pretty ass, Storm. Hell’s coming to town.” Then he was gone, running across the street and disappearing into the cracks that passed for alleys.

      Her shoulders slumped. Strike freaking two.

      Now what?

      She walked into the street, rubbing the back of her neck where she could feel the muscles tightening. This part of town was deserted—always was. One day, the city officials would take over, change things, and—

      The roar of an engine reached her ears.

      Her head shot up.

      And she saw a white van flying straight toward her.

      Aw, hell.

      Holly scrambled back.

      Too late.

      The van’s wheels turned—came straight for her. Aimed for her.

      Christ!

      She couldn’t move fast enough. Her high heel slipped beneath her, twisting and cracking. She couldn’t—

      The van clipped her, catching her right hip and sending Holly hurtling back into the air. She hit the cement, hard, and exhaust burned her nostrils.

      Her vision grayed. The last thing she saw before the full, sweet darkness swept over her was the back of the van, speeding away and leaving her broken in the street.

      “Jesus, Holly, what the hell happened to you?”