Синтия Иден - Midnight Sins

“Really, Detective, I did know you were coming.” A shrug. “My men will be back, by nightfall as I told you, and we’ll find your murderous demon.”

Yeah, well, Todd was pretty sure he was staring at a murderous demon.

Why did Cara have a soft spot for the guy? Couldn’t she see that he was ice cold all the way to the soul?

Todd straightened his jacket. Felt the reassuring press of his holster against the small of his back. “Let’s go,” he said to Cara.

Her gaze was on the demon.

A prick of jealousy stirred inside Todd. Those two—they shared a bond, a magic, that he’d never know. Did Niol understand Cara better that he did? Better than he could ?

“You’re making the same mistake she did.” Niol spoke to Cara, voice ragged, as if the words had been torn from him.

A slight tremble rolled the floor.

Cara just stared at him. “Am I?”

“Humans can’t be trusted, Cara. You saw what happened to Nina.”

Oh, no, the bastard had better not be saying he was like the murdering prick who’d attacked her sister. “ Watch it, demon. ” No way would he ever hurt Cara.

“I don’t need your warnings,” Cara said at the same moment. “And I am not my sister.”

“No, love.” A touch of sadness there. The wisp of a memory in the blackness of his eyes. “You’re not.” Then he blinked, and Todd wondered if the emotion had ever been there. “But like her, you want something that demons, well, we don’t always get to have.”

Cara’s gaze flickered to him—and Todd saw the yearning in her stare.

For him? Didn’t the lady know she already had him? Every damn piece of him, good and bad?

“Don’t trust the humans, not with your life.” Niol sauntered forward, reached for his glasses. “I’ll watch your back, just as I’ve always done.”

Yeah, and he’d be watching her back, too. Front, back, every inch of her. “No one’s going to hurt her,” Todd said clearly, just in case the old demon wasn’t understanding so well.

“No, they aren’t.” A certainty from Niol. “You protected me, I’ll do the same for you.” The words were directed to Cara.

Her head moved in a brief nod.

Niol pushed by him. “You know your way out, Detective.”

“Yeah, I do.” And his way right back in.

Because he’d be back at nightfall—and the demon had better be ready.

The Channel Twelve newscaster’s face flushed dark red. “What the hell am I doing in here?” He demanded.

Colin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a few questions for you,” he said.

If possible, Trey Barker’s cheeks became even redder. “I’m the fucking anchor for Channel Twelve! We’ve got the largest market in the city—I am the damn market! You don’t call me in here like I’m some punk off the street, you got that, Detective? You don’t send your boys into my office to pick me up, you don’t—”

Colin raised a brow as he listened to the guy rant. Yeah, this one looked like an incubus. Too good-looking—well, he would have been good-looking if it weren’t for that crazy skin thing he had going on. Wide blue eyes. Dimples.

Perfect face, but his scent was off. Too strong. Overpowering.

Incubus.

“I’m a fucking star in this town!” Trey shouted, and his gaze darted around the interrogation room. “I’ll have you walking the streets again, giving old ladies parking tickets, I’ll—”

Colin exhaled. “I know exactly who you are, Trey. Or rather, what you are.”

That shut up the newsman. Colin saw the guy’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped. Then Trey muttered, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” Why was the guy even gonna waste his time with denials? “You’re an incubus.”

Trey flinched, then managed a faint, scratchy laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not—”

“You were using your scent on the female officer who brought you in to interrogation.” And that annoyed him. “I gave orders only men were to escort you to the precinct, but I should have made sure the women stayed away once you got here.”

“I wasn’t doing a damn—”

“Bullshit.” Colin said calmly. “You were pumping out that sick scent and trying to trick her into telling you about this case.” He nodded toward the files spread before them.

“I wasn’t read my rights! I wasn’t asked if I wanted an attorney present—”

There was one sitting in the next interrogation room. But Colin would get to him, next. “Did you really want the cops telling everyone at the station that you were a demon and you were being brought in because you might be connected to a series of sex murders?”

The guy seemed to shrivel. His shoulders slumped. His chin fell to his chest.

Yeah, that was the way it always was. The ones who blustered the loudest fell the fastest. “So…” Colin drawled out the word slowly, aware that his captain and Emily were watching. “You admit you’re an incubus.” McNeal had called Emily in as soon as the incubi were found. The captain wanted her take on them. McNeal had stationed her in the observation room so that she’d be able to see their reactions to Colin’s questions.

And Colin was damn interested in his doc’s analysis of the guys. His Emily had a talent for getting good and deep beneath the skin of the Other.

“Do you admit it?” he asked again, still keeping his voice easy and calm.

A quick nod from Trey. A frantic glance up at the interrogation mirror.

He knows they’re watching him. Just like Cara had known. Demons always made his job so much harder.

“How—how did you find out?” Trey asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Are you…going to tell everyone?” Horror, in his voice, on his face.

“Depends.”

Another bob of the guy’s Adam’s apple. “On what?”

Colin leaned forward. Opened the file and shoved the pictures at the demon. “On whether or not you’re a killer.”

“Not him,” Emily said as Trey Barker vomited into the garbage can.

“You sure? Maybe he’s just faking his reaction. He knows we’re here, he could be—”

“No! No! I didn’t do this!” Trey’s frantic voice broke across the captain’s words.

Colin began to rattle off the dates of the killings.

“No! Listen, damn it, listen to me!” He shoved the pictures away, looked like he might vomit again. “I didn’t do this! Shit!”

“Then give me an alibi. Make me believe you.” Colin started talking about the first victim, the date he’d been found and—

“I was in Boston!” Relief lit Trey’s eyes. “I was interviewing for a job up there—call them! At Station Seven. I flew up and I—”

McNeal leaned forward and adjusted the volume control for the interrogation room. His gaze met Emily’s.

“Not him,” she repeated again, and he gave a slow nod.

“Then let’s try demon number two.”

“I’m not the Bondage Killer,” Jody Rain said the minute Colin walked into the second interrogation room.

Colin blinked. Way to cut to the chase.

Jody shrugged. “I’m not an idiot, Gyth. You know what I am and I—” His lips curved. “I know you’re not human, and that’s about damn all I know.”

Colin lowered himself into the chair across from the incubus. Jody Rain was tall, muscled, with skin tinted gold by the sun. No lines marred his face, so his age was close to impossible to guess.

“I wouldn’t say that’s all you know,” Colin murmured, aware that he had to tread very carefully with the ADA. Jody was smart, tough, and not generally one for bullshit. “You know about the Bondage Killer, after all.”