Midnight Sins (Midnight 2)

“So the bastard’s still out there?” Todd asked, mouth hard. “Tell me his damn name and I’ll—”

“He’s dead now.” And that should really have made things easier for her. “The next day, his body was found in his apartment.

Lance killed himself.” That was the story that had been in the papers, anyway.

More silence. The thick, uncomfortable kind that made her want to squirm.

“Is that the whole story?” Gyth asked. She slanted him a look, saw the suspicion in his eyes.

No, it wasn’t the whole story, but she’d told all of her part. She’d confessed to the Monster Doctor about her attack on Lance before.

And if Lance hadn’t pulled that knife—

Well, she wouldn’t have regretted his death. Did that make her evil? She really didn’t know.

I’m a killer. Yeah, that’s what she’d told the Monster Doctor. Because even though she hadn’t been the one to take the last breath from Lance’s miserable body and soul, she’d still been responsible for his death.

“Check the Miami papers . They ran the stories on him for a few days.” She’d been living in Miami back then. The Other always liked the big cities. So easy to blend in with the throngs of people. “The article said that Lance Danvers slit his wrists and bled to death.” Too messy for her taste.

But not for the demon who’d killed Lance.

Suicide. Not damn likely. Not for a man like him.

“Why did you tell me this?” Todd asked.

“Because I wanted you to know there’s a point for humans and paranormals. We can all be pushed too far, and we can all become monsters.” Because she’d truly been a monster that long-ago night. One without pity. Remorse. She would have killed him, and she would have loved every minute of his death.

Her chin lifted as she faced them. She’d just admitted to two cops that she’d attempted murder. “What are you going to do now?”

Cara asked, voice soft.

Todd brought his mouth down on hers, hungrily taking her lips. Her hands wrapped around his arms, held on with all her strength.

Behind him, Gyth coughed.

Todd’s dark head rose. “I’m going to thank God that bastard didn’t kill you.”

She pressed her lips together. Caught his taste. “And what about what I did?”

Todd turned slowly to face Gyth. “She didn’t do anything.” A challenge. Cara could feel the tension pumping through his body.

“Isn’t that right, Gyth?”

The shifter’s gaze met hers. Held. Finally, he said, “No crime that I see.” A pause. “And I would have done the same.”

His head inclined toward her slightly.

One predator to another.

The breath she’d been holding expelled in a sharp rush.

“You should have told me sooner,” Todd muttered, bending so that his words whispered into her ear.

Yes, she should have, but the guy had already been dealing with the fact that she was a demon. She hadn’t wanted him to completely freak on her.

But Todd wasn’t showing any signs of freaking. Or running. Or, well, hell, the guy was actually holding pretty tightly to her.

A stab of hope shot through her heart. Maybe, just maybe, Todd would be different.

More footsteps sounded in the hallway. Hard. Determined steps. The shifter tilted his head to the right, said, “McNeal,” about five seconds before the police captain shoved open the door and stalked inside.

He pointed his finger at Cara. “You.”

Her brows lifted. She’d seen the captain a few times, but never actually spoken with the guy.

“You just put on one hell of a show in my precinct, demon.”

Not human. Not completely, anyway. The understanding dawned instantly. As she’d told Todd, the human males would have all forgotten.

Hmm. So just what was the tough captain? She took a step away from Todd, more than ready to defend herself. “What I did,” she said, voice fierce, “was save lives and fix the screw-up one of your officers caused!”

A grunt. Then his hands flew up. “Don’t come any closer!” She saw his nostrils twitch. “I’m taken.”

“Since when?” The words were a bare thread of sound as they slipped past Gyth’s lips.

“So is she,” Todd said.

Gunmetal eyes widened. “Ah, you poor bastard.” McNeal sighed. “Don’t you know demons can’t be trusted?”

Now the guy was pissing her off. The air began to thicken around her.

“She can be.” Her lover’s voice sounded absolutely confident.

The captain’s eyes weighed him. Her. “You willing to risk your life on that assumption?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“Then bring your demon into my office. It’s time to clear the air and catch this damn killer before I have another stiff on my hands.”

McNeal’s office was too quiet. The old phrase as silent as a tomb whispered through Cara’s mind as she waited in the cramped quarters.

Cara stood near the captain’s obviously fake plant, arms crossed over her chest. Todd was beside her. Gyth leaned against the edge of McNeal’s desk. And McNeal, well, he was sitting behind his desk, glowering at the ME.

After what had to be at least five minutes, Smith finally cleared her throat and shifted a bit in the rather uncomfortable-looking leather chair she occupied. “Are you, um, sure I can talk about the case in front of her?”

Her. The ME hadn’t made eye contact with Cara the entire time they’d been trapped in the silence of the office.

“This is off the record, Smith.”

The ME opened her mouth to protest.

“Off the record. ” McNeal ran a hand over his face. Exhaled hard enough to shake the room, then said, “We need her help, okay?

She’s got to know the facts of the case because she’s the only damn one who can really tell us what the killer is like.”

Because I’m just like the killer.

Smith’s back was ramrod straight. Her shoulders far too stiff.

McNeal stabbed his finger toward Gyth. “All right—let’s start with the knife. Forensics said—”

“No prints were on the knife,” Gyth finished. “But the hair we found belonged to Susan Dobbs.”

Todd glanced at her. “You sure you didn’t know the woman?”

He’d shown her Susan’s picture, and yeah, the woman looked freakily like her, but—“I don’t know her.”