Midnight's Master (16 page)

Holly swallowed.

“Looks that way.” He cast her a speculative glance. “You’re gonna have to be the one to tel me for sure.”

“I don’t follow—”

He caught her arm. “I need you to see the victim.”

Oh, hell, not again.

She dug in her heels. “I’m here to cover the story, not to—to—”

“He wants to know if she’s one of us, Holly,” Niol said, his voice like rough silk as he walked from the covering of a nearby building.

Holly didn’t jump at his approach—not this time—because she’d known he was there.

From the minute she’d climbed out of her car, she’d known.

Because he wouldn’t have sent her to this scene alone.

Am I starting to trust the guy?

Sure looked that way.

Talk about twisted—she had to be the only person in the state who trusted Niol Lapen.

Gyth swore. “I’m guessing it’s not a fucking coincidence you’re both here?”

Niol caught Holly’s hand. Kissed the back of her palm. “Where she goes, I go.”

His tongue swiped over her flesh and her heart jumped.

“Bullshit.” Gyth looked disgusted as his mouth curled into a sneer. “And I’m not buying this whole lover crap—Wait!” His gaze flew between them. “One of us?”

Holly decided the best course of action right then was to keep her mouth shut. She was too new at the whole being-a-demon thing.

“Shit.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Two guys in blue uniforms wheeled out a gurney. On top of it, a black body bag was zipped up tight.

Her mouth dried up. A woman. Looked like the killer wasn’t being choosy about gender. Odd, that.

Did she know her, too?

“Hold it.” Gyth’s words were directed at the attendants pushing the gurney. Then, softer, for her ears only, he said, “Tel the jerkoff with the camera to cut or he’s gonna be losing his precious equipment.”

She believed him. Holly raised her hand and motioned toward Ben. “That’s enough.

Cut for now.”

He lowered the camera with a scowl.

Gyth took her elbow and urged her toward the body bag. Since Niol stil had her other hand, he followed right along, too.

“Open it,” Gyth’s snarled command.

The attendant’s fingers jerked as he hurried to unzip the bag.

The smell hit her first. Thick, cloying, clogging up her nostrils.

“Gyth, what the hell, this isn’t protocol—”

Her eyes darted to the left. Found a scowling uniformed cop she’d never seen before.

“Take it up with the captain,” Gyth said, never looking away from the body.

Her gaze snaked back down.

She saw the blond hair first. Tangled, matted with blood. Then the face. Bloated.

Blackened in spots.

And she caught sight of the yawning second grin that tore across the woman’s throat.

Holly turned away. “I-I don’t know her.” Not another source. Just a poor woman who’d been slaughtered.

“I do.”

She glanced at Niol.

“Name’s Julia Powers. She worked in Paradise for a while last year. Stopped waitressing right around the time she hooked up with her boyfriend.”

“And her boyfriend would be?” Gyth pressed.

“He was Carl Bronx.” Niol’s lips thinned. “And she was one of mine, too.”

Demon.

Gyth’s jaw clenched and he motioned to the attendant. The zipper was hauled back up with a hiss.

“Tell me, detective…” A long pause from Niol as he waited for the attendants to move past.

That woman—God, what had she endured?

The gurney’s wheels squeaked as they loaded her up.

Niol cocked his head and studied the detective. “Did he take something from her, too?”

Take something? From the body? Holly’s palm pressed against her stomach. Oh, hell.

She didn’t know where Niol had gotten his information, but the look on Gyth’s face told her that he was dead-on.

“How the hell do you know about that?”

Sources. The answer whispered through her mind.

“I told your partner once, there is something you guys don’t realize. Your police force has more demons than you can count.”

She could believe that.

“Someone in my department is coming to you with information?” Gyth’s eyes glittered with fury, way too bright.

“Someone in your department is scared shitless because he…or she…knows there’s a sick fuck slicing up demons and taking bits away.”

Holly didn’t even want to think about what “bits” the killer was removing. “Why did it take so long to find her?” Holly asked, her voice coming out way more controlled than she expected. “You guys were spot on the scene with the other victims—”

“Because we got a tip-off with them.” Gyth’s voice wasn’t controlled, not one bit.

“Bastard called nine-one-one. Told us where to find the bodies.”

He’d wanted discovery.

Holly glanced at the black bag. But not for her. “Something’s different about her.” The possibilities had her heart racing. Maybe the killer had been sloppy—she’d learned long ago from an FBI operative she’d interviewed that kil ers were often damn sloppy with their first kills. Too nervous, too excited, too wired.

The wild thrill led to mistakes.

Mistakes that weren’t found later, when the killer struck again.

Gyth grunted. “She’s a woman, the other two vics were men.” He shook his head.

“Wasn’t expecting a woman.”

But he had been expecting to find another demon.

He huffed out a breath. “Vagrant found her. First, the uniforms thought he was crazy or high when he ran to ’em, talking about a smiling dead woman.”

Throat, slashed, from ear to ear.

Holly shoved the image away and turned to Niol. “Stil think we’re dealing with a human killer?”

A nod.

A grunt from Gyth. “The crime scene guys are gonna be scraping over the scene all night. Maybe they’ll find something—”

“You don’t think we’re suspects anymore,” Holly blurted, because he was sharing too much and not looking at her and Niol with that heavy stare of suspicion.

Holly drew in a deep breath, and caught the rancid scent of decay that still lingered in the air.

That woman—

Carl’s girlfriend. Julia.

The name clicked.

She remembered a day in the park, eating a stale sandwich and watching Carl toss some bread to the birds. “Gotta leave soon. Meeting my girlfriend for dinner.”

They’d never meet again.

“Are you serious about her?” She’d asked him, smiling.

“Don’t know,” he’d told her. “How do you tell if it’s love? Or just really good sex?”

They’d laughed, but she’d seen something in his eyes, and for a moment, she’d been envious.

But Carl and his Julia wouldn’t have a chance at love anymore. Dammit.

“Brooks thinks Niol is good for the killings…” Gyth spoke slowly.

“No,” Niol said, “the bastard wishes I were good for them. There’s nothing he’d like more than to throw my ass in jail.”

No response.

“But he knows I didn’t do it, and so do you.” A car door slammed behind them.

“This…isn’t my style.”

No, flames and fury—that was more his style.

Punishing the damned, not killing the innocent.

Niol wasn’t perfect, she knew that, but there were some lines Holly knew he wouldn’t cross.

Well, damn…looked like the trust had come through even when she hadn’t expected it.

Now when had that happened?

During the night of wild sex?

Or when he’d ripped her world apart and told her the truth about herself?

A truth she still didn’t understand.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Todd Brooks demanded as he stalked forward.

“Coming to gloat over another of his kills?”

Holly turned to glare at the detective, more than ready to rip him a new one—

He slammed into the ground. Just seemed to freeze, then he fell facefirst into the hard earth.

“Fuck,” Gyth muttered. “Not again, Niol.”

Her breath caught and she looked at Niol from the corner of her eye. An almost smile teased his lips.

Brooks pushed himself up to his knees. Shot a look that could have melted steel at Niol. “I fucking hate you, man.”

Niol did laugh at that.

Brooks rose to his feet and brushed off his hands, then his knees.

Jesus—did that count as assaulting an officer?

The human detective didn’t speak again until he was toe-to-toe with Niol. “You like screwing around with humans, huh?”

“Cara obviously does,” Niol murmured, and it took the words a moment to register for Holly.

Cara. The succubus. The guy’s lover.

Brooks’s fist lifted—

And Gyth stepped in front of Niol. “He’s playing with you, Todd. You know that’s the shit he likes.”

The rage had the cop’s face flushing. “He wants to play, then I’ll damn wel play.”

Enough of this male crap. Holly cleared her throat. All three of the guys looked at her.

“Niol, stop being a jackass.”

He blinked.

Gyth’s eyes narrowed.

Brooks slowly lowered his fist. “You’re still with him?”

“Um.” And planning to stay for a while, jackass or no. “Look, Detective Brooks, Niol isn’t responsible for these kills. Gyth knows it and I think you do, too.” The crimes just didn’t fit Niol’s MO.

“Now, we’ve got a serious problem on our hands,” she continued. “Some freak is picking off demons.” Yeah, and she was one, so that made her want to shake. “He’s hiding in the shadows, getting off on slicing up his kills, and probably loving like hell that you think the chief suspect is a demon.”

Gyth and Brooks shared a hard look. Ah, hit something there.

“These crimes are linked, and we all know it.” Julia hadn’t been her source like the others, but the dots were stil connected. “This bastard is after me and Niol and I—”

“What?” The detectives roared at once.

Niol crossed his arms over his powerful chest and just watched.

“He’s after us.” Holly knew that with one hundred percent certainty. “The freak left a message for me at the station—a photo of me and Niol with the warning that that ‘The impure will die.’”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Gyth demanded, stepping back to glower at Niol. “Where’s the note? Where’s—”

“Your captain has it,” Niol inserted smoothly. “It was delivered to McNeal an hour ago.”

Gyth’s mouth snapped closed.

Even Holly hadn’t seen that one coming.

“He’s after you?” Brooks shook his head. “What, does he have a death wish?”

“Perhaps.” Niol didn’t seem concerned. “If so, I’ll do my best to make his wish come true.”

“No wonder McNeal told me to shift my attention,” Gyth muttered. “Didn’t have time to explain, got the call about the body—”

And then he’d found her and Niol on the scene. “He’s jonesing for another demon kill,” Holly said. “The bastard sent a similar picture to Carl—and we know what happened to him.” Don’t think about it. Keep your chin up. Voice calm. Don’t break down. Not now.

Niol pressed closer to her, seeming to surround her with his warmth.

How had he known?

“And where’s that picture?” Brooks asked quietly. He sounded as if he didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Your captain will have it…soon.” Niol’s voice was as slow and easy as a southern summer day.

A dead body. Furious cops. Could nothing shake the guy?

“I’m going live with this story,” she told them al , aware that the words came tumbling out a bit too fast.

“The hell you—”

“There’s no way—”

She raised her hand. “I’m going live.”

Niol nodded. “Good idea.”

“Hel , you would say that.” Brooks shook his head. “The last thing we want is for the city to panic.”

“People need to be warned.” She was adamant on this. “They have a right to know what’s happening—”

“You really think folks can handle this shit?” Gyth demanded. “Do you know what they’ll do to—”

Holly exhaled. “I’m not going to broadcast any Other business, Detective Gyth.” Her intent to tell the world about demons had died long ago. “Just let the city know that a predator is hunting so folks will be on guard—and so they’ll watch things much, much more carefully.” People on alert tended to notice things the unwary never would. And maybe, just maybe, they’d get lucky and catch the bastard.

“She doesn’t need you, either of you,” Niol all but purred, “to run her story.”

No, I don’t. “I got scene shots for tonight. The body bag.” She didn’t flinch when she said it, just sounded like a cold bitch. That was hard, but she did it. “And now I know what ‘bits’ you guys have been holding back from the press.”

Gyth’s shoulders stiffed. “You can’t broadcast that—”

Holly had no intention of airing those gory details. The freak would like that too much.

No, she needed to air just enough to piss him off…and to make him nervous enough to screw up. “Give me an interview, on air, about this killer. You can lead me, tell me what you want the public to know, and I’ll keep that information quiet for the time being.”

Deals—the way of the world.

Gyth’s jaw worked, but it was Brooks who answered. “Five minutes?”

Ah, now he’d promised her an interview before…only to never deliver. “Five minutes

—now.” She wouldn’t be put off again.

The shifter’s lips curved. “Looks like you’re goin’ live, pretty boy.”

Brooks muttered something back to him, something that sounded a lot like “fuck off.”

Her heart began to drum in the fast, steady rhythm she always got right before a shoot.

“Then, detective, looks like we are, indeed, going live.”

It was the first time Niol had been close enough to watch her work. At the scene of Carl’s death, he’d arrived right after the camera lowered, and he’d been too preoccupied with blood and death and vengeance to pay much attention to the news van.

A bright light shone onto Holly. She gripped a microphone in her right hand. The cameraman had his equipment hoisted onto his shoulder and the round lens zoomed in on Holly’s tense face and the face of Todd Brooks.

She let the guy lead, as she’d promised, allowing him to make some general statements about the crimes and the connections between the victims.