Hotter After Midnight (Midnight 1)

“He wants them to know he’s a shifter,” Colin muttered. “And that’s why he’s killing in his animal form?”

She nodded. “I think so. I also think he’s choosing human victims who are high profile to get more attention. Preston Myers was rich, high society. His murder was bound to go straight to the front page. Darla—”

“Was a hotshot reporter,” Colin finished. “Course her killing would make every broadcast and paper in the state.”

“This guy—he’s tired of hiding what he is. He wants the world to know about him. About all the Other. And I think he’ll kill as many humans as it takes to get his message out there.”

“Shit.” McNeal’s gaze darted to his shredder. “He’s deliberately leaving evidence for us, isn’t he? Evidence that proves he’s not human.”

“Yeah, I think he is.”

“Why?” McNeal’s fist hit the desk. “Coming out like this will just make humans terrified. They’ll fear him, hate him, hate all of us.”

“He doesn’t care,” she told him softly. “This guy—he thinks he’s all powerful. He’s gotten a taste for the killing.” Her blood tasted good. “There’s something else you should both know.” She took a deep breath. “I think the next victim—it’s going to be a cop.”

“Fuck.” From Gyth.

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because he told me.” Maybe I’ll do one of them next. Oh yeah, that’d be good. “He was at the television station last night. I-I felt him. Managed to get close enough to touch his thoughts.” But the killer had gotten away.

So close.

“A cop.” McNeal squeezed his eyes shut. “Christ. Yeah, that would definitely get the ass**le more attention. He’d make the national news then. A f**king werewolf killing cops. Shit.”

Would cops taste different? Would they try to fight more? “It’s going to be a woman,” Emily said, wanting to give them all the information she had. “He…ah…likes the way women taste better.”

Colin tensed.

“Shit!” McNeal lunged to his feet. “I want this bastard off the streets. I don’t want to play any more of his f**king games.”

But there wasn’t much of a choice.

McNeal frowned at Colin. “Put everyone on alert. Let ’em know this crazy SOB is out there, gunning for one of our own.”

Colin nodded, rose from his seat.

“I don’t want a bloodbath in my city,” McNeal snarled. “And I sure as hell don’t want to see a cop with her throat ripped out on the six o’clock news.”

But if the Night Butcher wasn’t caught, Emily knew that was exactly what would happen.

A hard knock sounded at the door. Brooks popped his head inside, not waiting for an invitation. “I’ve got some news you’ve all got to hear.” He stepped forward, gripping a white piece of paper in his hands. “Guess whose prints just matched up with the unknowns we found at Gillian Nemont’s?”

Emily’s stomach knotted. Gillian was a demon. Have to destroy the demon. She’s evil.

“Sonofabitch.” Colin shook his head slowly. “The kid.”

Brooks handed him the printout. “Bryan Trace. Runaway. High school dropout. Demon hunter.” His lips twisted at the last. “That’s what he told me he was, by the way. When the doctor was patching up his nose, he told me he was used to pain. Demon hunters have to be, of course.”

Emily rubbed her temple. “I don’t understand what’s going on! Why would this guy target me? It makes no sense!” Unless…Emily straightened her shoulders. Unless the guy knew that some of her patients were Other and he’d thought that she was too.

“It gets better,” Brooks murmured. “I’ve got a security tape of the guy going into the News Flash Five station yesterday afternoon.”

The kid was connected to all the murders. But…“He’s not the Butcher,” Emily said very definitely. Yes, the evidence was starting to mount, but it wasn’t Trace.

The boy was human. She hadn’t sensed anything supernatural about him.

Just an angry, confused, dangerous human.

Brooks shook his head. “It could be him,” he argued. “He trashed Nemont’s place. That links him to Myers. If we canvas the neighborhood, we might even find someone who remembers seeing him at Preston’s place before the murder.”

“You might,” Emily said, “but I’m telling you, this kid isn’t the Night Butcher. ”

“Umm…” McNeal shot her a searching glance. “Doc, you sure about this?”

She nodded.

“If the kid didn’t do it,” Colin said, glancing up from the printout, “I think he knows who did.”

Now that she couldn’t argue with.

“There are too many coincidences here,” he continued. “And they make me damn suspicious.”

“Me too.” McNeal studied them in silence for a moment, then said, “Get him into Interrogation. Find out what the hell he knows.”

Colin and Brooks strode toward the door.

“Ah, Captain?” She wasn’t about to let this chance pass. “I think I can help here.”

Colin swung around, eyes narrowed.

McNeal arched a brow. “You want in with him, don’t you?”

She nodded.

McNeal rubbed a hand over his bare scalp. “It’s risky, sending you in. His lawyer will have a field day with it since you’re one of his victims.”

“She shouldn’t go in,” Colin snapped. “The guy just attacked her. Emily doesn’t need to be anywhere near him!”

“I won’t get too close,” she promised, not looking at Colin. Dammit, this was her case too. If he’d been attacked, she knew Colin would have gone right back in with the perp. “Look, McNeal, the guy needs help. His mind—” Was twisted, confused. She bit her lip, muttered, “I don’t think they’re going to be able to get to him. But I can.” She knew it. If she could just get the chance.

“Observe first. And then—”

“Captain, no!”

McNeal glared at Colin. “My rules here, Gyth. Not yours. We may need the doctor on this one. She’ll observe the interrogation with me, and if I think we need her, I’ll send her in.”

Emily finally glanced toward Colin. Found him watching her with a burning stare.