Midnight Sins (Midnight 2)
Just like in his dream. A perfect f**king match.
Impossible.
No, it should have been impossible.
A woman couldn’t just…walk into his dreams.
And a man couldn’t transform into a wolf—but Colin had. He’d seen the transformation with his own eyes.
Just like he now saw the damn birthmark.
“I dreamed of that mark.” He stared at the smooth white skin. Skin that contrasted so richly with the dark half-moon. He lifted his gaze to her face. Found her watching him with worried eyes. “How’d I do that, Cara?”
The hair on his nape had risen. Oh, yeah, his alarms were ringing now. Shrieking, actually.
Her hand lifted. “Give me the towel.”
Todd realized they were both dripping wet and still naked. And that he was aroused. Confused as hell, but increasingly aroused.
He tossed the towel back to her.
She wrapped the terry-cloth around her body. “On the other side of the pool, there’s a small storage room. You’ll find some towels in there.”
“Cara…”
“We’ll talk, okay? Just…you need to get dressed first.”
Fine. He spun around, military-style. His gaze flickered over the still water of the pool, saw her bikini floating on the surface. His stomach clenched.
Damn it. Todd headed for the storage room. Found an oversize towel. Swiped away the water and secured the towel at his hips.
Not dressed, but good enough—for the moment.
He went back to face his temptress, and ignored the growing chill in the air.
She stood at the edge of the pool. Hair slicked back. Eyes bright.
He stopped about three feet away from her. Waited. Questions tumbled through his mind. One after the other. How had he known about her birthmark? And when he’d woken that first night, with scratch marks on his arms, just what the hell had been happening?
Had their encounters been dreams…or had they been all too real?
And why the f**k did he still feel so good? Energy and heat pumped through him, making him feel stronger than he had in months.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Todd.”
No shit. Her voice was soft. Tense. Her gaze darted to the left a moment, then returned, almost reluctantly, to his. “I’m not the woman you think I am.”
“Then who the hell are you?” Why was she talking in riddles? He wanted to know about her birthmark, not—
Her left hand lifted, toyed with the top of the towel. “Tell me, Detective—”
Oh, now he was back to detective? Like she hadn’t been moaning his name less than five minutes ago.
“—do you believe in monsters?”
Her question drove the breath from his lungs. “What?” Oh, Christ, he sure hoped she wasn’t gonna tell him that—
“Do you believe in monsters?” She repeated the question and licked her succulent red lips. “You really should, you know.”
“And why is that?” His heart pounded like a drum, the dull beat echoing in his ears.
“Because according to some people, I’m one of the worst monsters you’ll ever meet.”
Chapter 8
He jerked on his clothes, so furious that his hands shook. “Look, baby, if you want to blow me off, that’s fine, but don’t give me some bullshit about being a monster—”
“It’s not bullshit,” she said, blond brows rising in what could have been a flare of annoyance.
“—because I know all about real monsters, okay? I deal with them every f**king day. Rapists. Child killers. Fire freaks who burn down homes with nice old ladies inside—”
She flinched.
“Unless you’re about to tell me that you did kill Michael House,” and Jesus but he hoped she wasn’t, “then don’t screw around with me by throwing out labels that I understand one hell of a lot better than you do.” She’d hit his weak spot, and he was furious.
Todd knew all about the evil in the world. Had known about it since his fourteenth birthday, when he’d watched that bastard Costa smile and shoot his mother straight in the heart. Monsters. Yeah. He knew all about the bastards, and the evil that lived in what they pretended were souls.
“I didn’t kill Michael.” She licked her lips again. Stood there with that towel wrapped around her and looked so damn good that he ached. “But I am a monster, Todd. I-I’m a demon.”
He’d just finished dressing when she made her announcement. He shook his head, slowly. “Run that one by me again, baby.” No way the lady had just said—
“I’m a demon, Detective. A real, honest-to-God,” her mouth curved slightly at that in a wan smile, “demon.”
Todd stared at her, not quite sure what to say. The automatic words, You’re crazy, trembled on his lips.
And he would have said those words to her— two months ago.
Yeah, back then, he would have laughed at her claim. Asked what her punch line was.
But that was two months ago.
Back before the dangerous night when he’d trailed his partner to the warehouse district on the darker side of Atlanta and watched his partner of two years stop being a man—and become a snarling, deadly beast.
A wolf.
Todd hadn’t said a word to anyone about what he’d seen. He’d followed Colin because the guy was his partner, and partners backed each other up.
He’d been shaken as hell. Stunned.
He’d planned to follow the wolf into the warehouse, help him, but the captain had paged him, said that he had to get back to the station ASAP—and that he knew where Todd was.
The order had been blunt. Get your ass out of there before you get Colin killed.
So he’d left. He’d taken a heavy knowledge with him—a knowledge he hadn’t shared with anyone—because, well, who would believe him?
At first, he’d had so many dreams about that night. Memories of that brutal shift. The snap of bones and the growl of the beast had haunted his nights.
He’d kept at his job, though, damn it. Bit back the instinctive fear that roused its head. And he’d stuck by his partner’s side, even when he’d been pissed and confused as all hell.
He’d thought that Colin was an anomaly, but now—
“Did you hear me?” Cara raised her voice. “I-I just told you that I’m a demon.”
Todd blinked. First werewolves, now demons. But Cara didn’t look like a demon. No horns. No tail. No forked tongue. Or was all that stuff he’d heard as a kid just bullshit?