Midnight's Master (Midnight 3)

The bastard who'd died had been a murderer. A sick, twisted psycho who had planned to kill her . She hadn't shed any tears over his death.

But she'd had more than a few nightmares.

And now she was back here. Back at what could have been the scene of her murder.

She took a few slow steps forward. In the dim light, she could just barely make out the scorch marks at the end of the alley.

No, she hadn't shed any tears for the dead man.

But she also hadn't taken her story live, either. She hadn't blasted the truth about the killer-the fact that he was a demon, a powerful supernatural-into the homes of thousands of people.

Because after what she'd seen that terrible night, Holly knew that the world wasn't ready for the truth yet.

Monsters are real.

Oh, yeah, they were real. Strong. Dangerous. Evil.

And scary as all hell.

She stopped at the edge of the black markings. The markings that were all that remained of a demon's life.

So many monsters…Her hands clenched.

Some of them, like Carl, weren't bad. Some were almost…normal. Just trying to get by in the big, too-cold world.

Living, as best they could, until the darkness struck them down.

Holly bent, the cold air of the night brushing against her. It was late spring, should have been warmer, but a cold blast was hitting the city.

Her fingers touched the rough pavement, and her nails scraped over the black lines.

He'd been in my head. He took my control away. Made me into a puppet. Even though she'd tried so hard to fight. At night, she could still feel the whispers of her fear.

She'd been so afraid. So sure that she was staring at death.

Was that how Carl had felt? Before he'd been gutted by-

A rustle of sound reached her ears. Soft. Like clothes, fabric brushing against the hard stone walls that all but surrounded her.

In an instant, Holly was on her feet, heart racing so hard the thudding filled her ears. She whirled around, searching the alley with narrowed eyes as she squinted to see in the darkness. "Who's there?" Chill bumps were on her arms, but whether they were from the increasing cold of the air or the sudden fear that pumped through her, she didn't know.

No one answered her call, and she licked her lips.

Not alone. She knew it, with every single fiber of her being.

Someone, or some thing , was in that alley with her. Watching from the too concealing darkness.

Her instincts screamed for her to run. To get the hell out of there as fast as she could…

But she'd come to Paradise, such as it was, for a reason.

So she didn't run. Just stood straighter.

"I know you're there." The air now felt strangely still against her. She took one step forward and hoped that she looked a lot more confident than she felt.

She hated this stinking alley. It scared her, made her realize just how vulnerable she was.

So why the hell are you standing here in the dark, when you know something's watching you?

Her lungs ached as she drew in a deep breath. She'd lured more than her share of sources out of the shadows before. Faced down muggers. Crack-high kids. But this-

Someone watched.

This was different.

Okay, time to run like crazy. Forget dignity, she'd lost that back in the bar.

"Holly! "

The growl of her name had her choking back a startled scream. Jesus. Now she was turning back around, like a spinning top, as she jerked to face the mouth of the alley once more. A man stood waiting there, arms thrust deep into the pockets of his long, black coat.

Niol.

She was almost glad to see him.

Ah, screw that. Holly took off toward him, pretty much at a run.

She was damn glad to see the jerk.

Sometimes, the devil you knew was a hell of a lot better than the monster in the dark.

As she hurried toward him, she saw his dark gaze lift and sweep behind her. He seemed to stiffen.

"Niol, what-"

"Get in the car, Holly."

She saw his black SUV then, idling near the corner. Tendrils of exhaust escaped from the back of the vehicle, drifting up into the night.

Since she'd taken a cab down to Paradise, and she really wasn't feeling the urge to call and wait outside on the street for another one to arrive and pick her up, Holly decided to follow the snapped order.

But she couldn't help glancing back over her shoulder, one more time.

Only shadows stared back at her from the depths of the alley.

Shadows and the memory of death.

He could smell the woman. A sweet scent, light, rising over the decay and vermin of the alley.

For a moment, he'd been so close to her. Close enough to touch. To slide his fingers over her skin.

Close enough to rip that perfect porcelain skin right open.

The slam of a door echoed in the night. Then another. Tires squealed as the demon bastard drove away.

Taking the woman with him.

Interesting.

Niol had a taste for humans. He loved to play with the mortal women. And the immortal ones.

He and the demon had that pleasure in common.

A whistle escaped the man's lips as he strolled from the darkness. He'd been waiting there, biding his time, when the redhead had literally been thrown into his path.

Sometimes, fate could be brilliant.

He stepped over the charred cement and his whistle became louder.

Such a nice night. Pity he'd already made his kill. It really would have been the perfect night for a slaughter.

Ah, well, perhaps it was time he found new prey.

"What the hell were you doing?" Niol demanded, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. "Do you have some kind of death wish or something?"

" What? Look, buddy, you are the one who so kindly had me tossed into the alley. It's not like I wanted to be there and-"

"You weren't alone." The words came from between clenched teeth.

"I was-" She broke off, gasping, and he felt the hot weight of her stare land on him. "How do you know that?"

He turned the wheel hard to the right and heard the harsh squeal of tires. "Hell, lady, have you forgotten what I am?" After his last demonstration, in that same pit-forsaken alley, she shouldn't have forgotten any damn thing.

"Demon." A breath of sound.

Niol nodded. Demon through the skin, through the blood, all the way to the core of his bones.

No, he wasn't some pointy-tailed, horned, red freak who'd escaped from the depths of hell.

Generally demons weren't like that, though most folks, when they closed their eyes at night, sure pictured them as such.

His kind weren't servants of the devil. So, okay, yeah, some had certainly chosen to walk on the trail of the damned, and he'd more than danced on the dark side a few times.