Midnight's Master (19 page)

She understood the way he operated. Understood the guards he’d locked onto her and understood that her demon heritage would be a mystery for him, one that he’d solve at all costs.

Maybe that was a good thing. She wanted to know the truth, too. All her life, she’d thought she was a human. She’d been surrounded by her “normal” friends, gone to St.

Mary’s Church every Sunday, gone to college—led a regular life.

Until now.

Niol didn’t deny the investigation, just kept drifting his fingers up and down her arm in a slow, tempting caress.

“What are you hiding?” He asked quietly.

Pain. The instant answer. A hell of a lot of pain. “Why do you want to know about Peter?”

His hand stilled. “Because I think he may have been like you. Like me.”

Not Peter. “Peter died of a drug overdose, okay?” The words ripped from her. “He was a kid, in too deep, he—”

“Demons fall prey to addictions much faster than humans, love.” Soft, almost gentle.

“The drugs—they’re a temptation some can’t resist. They quiet the voices and the visions of blood and death that just won’t stop.”

Ice poured over her. “What?” She shot up in the bed, clamping the sheet tight to her chest. “What voices? What visions of death? Peter didn’t have—”

“Demons have different powers.” He rose, too, but didn’t bother pulling up the sheet to hide his body. “Some control the elements, almost like witches. Some can slip into a human’s mind—”

Yes, she knew about that.

“Some have other, less…desirable powers.” A pause. “Like your friend Sam.”

Slashed to pieces. Holly licked her lips. “Wh-what do you know about Sam’s power?”

Sam had told her that he was a low-level demon, pretty average, pretty—

“Sam got the shit-end of the draw. He could read the thoughts of humans—across blocks, miles—without even trying.”

That was the shit-end of the draw?

“But the only thoughts he could pick up were from killers. Rapists. Twisted pervs who wanted to hurt and maim. And Sam couldn’t turn the voices off, no matter how hard he tried…until he found the meth.”

Peter’s voice drifted through her mind. “You ever have nightmares, sis?”

“We all have nightmares.” They’d been in the kitchen, getting ready for school, and running late, as usual. She’d rolled her eyes and chugged her orange juice.

He’d been fourteen. She’d been thirteen.

“No. Not a snake’s gonna bite me shit—”

“Shh! Don’t let mom hear you say that—”

He’d grabbed her arm, knocking over the orange juice so that it poured over the tabletop and dripped onto the floor. “I’m talking about seeing people die. Getting ripped apart. Over and over—hearing some bastard laughing and—”

“Peter Marcus Storm!” Their mother’s voice shrieked at them. “What have I told you about…”

“Cursing in my house,” she whispered. Oh, shit. Oh, no. Peter had never talked about his nightmares to her after that. When they’d climbed onto the school bus, he’d stared at her, eyes sad and said simply, “You don’t have them.”

She hadn’t understood.

Niol touched her cheek and she flinched away from him. “You remember, don’t you, Holly?”

Peter had spiraled away from her so fast.

“When puberty hits, most demons come into the power, and for those with the Dark Touch—”

“The Dark Touch?” They had a name for it? Goose bumps covered her arms. Peter’s face was so clear in her mind right then. Not the face after death—the bloated, pale face with the glassy eyes.

The youthful, worried face of her brother. Her nose, her mouth. His intense eyes and strong jaw.

“Those with the Touch pick up the negative energy and it can warp their minds.

Demons have a well-deserved reputation for many reasons. The fact that those with the Touch fight insanity is one of ’em.”

She wanted to scream. To yel that he was wrong about her brother, about every damn thing. But Niol knew demons far better than she did. “And what? Drugs are their only hope? Getting wasted? Overdosing and dying?”

“Mind shields.” His jaw worked. “We have to find a way to screen the kids and get them suited with shielding to block out the energy. It can be done, it can—”

“Doctor Drake is teaching me how to shield.” Said slowly.

Surprise flickered across his face.

“I won’t be helpless again,” she muttered.

“You never were.” Niol’s eyes held hers. “You never were.”

So said the guy with enough power to fry his enemies from the inside out.

Her temples ached. There was so much to take in. “Niol, you-you really think my brother was one of those with that—power?”

“Can’t know for sure. Not now.”

Because her brother had been buried in Meadows Cemetery for so many long years now. She visited him every Christmas, every February seventeenth—the day of his birth

—and every August third—the day she’d found his body.

“If he was like that…” And dammit, she was believing that he could have been. “Then why am I different?” Normal.

“You’re a hybrid demon.”

She knew the term. Someone with the mixed blood of a demon and…something else.

“Maybe a quarter demon, could be even less—I’m not done shaking your family tree.”

Ah, okay.

“Power manifests differently for hybrids. Sometimes…” His jaw clenched. “Fucking powerful bastards are born. And sometimes…”

“You get me,” she finished. “I don’t have any powers, Niol. I can’t make fire.” She glanced at the candles, all but sputtering out. “Can’t read minds. Can’t do—”

“You don’t know what you can do. Neither do I. Time will show us.” He didn’t sound particularly concerned. “What I do know about you—you can cloak your powers like no one I’ve ever seen.”

Well, that was something.

“I should have sensed you from the beginning, but the glamour is too strong. I can only see through it when you—”

Climax.

What had Dr. Drake said? Certain powerful instances or stressful situations may trigger the latent powers in you.

Her climaxes with Niol sure fell under the “powerful instances” category.

“If it turns out you’re a level-one—” Niol continued.

The weakest of the demons.

“Big deal.” His fingers tangled in her hair and he brought her face toward his for a hard, long kiss. “I’ll still want you like fucking hell on fire.”

Darkness.

The candlelight was gone. A ball of tight need stirred within her again, but she held on to her control, needing to know…“Niol…do you have the Touch?”

Her hand lay on his chest. Touching the flesh so warm it almost seemed to burn her.

Feeling the heart beneath her hand—and the hard lurch it gave at her question.

“You don’t want to know al that I can do.” Said with absolute certainty. “If you knew, you’d be running from me as fast as you could.”

She didn’t move her hand. Didn’t move her body. “I’ve already seen what you can do

—”

“Sweetheart, that was just the start.” Light flashed in the room, but not from the candles. Flames hovered in the air, small bal s of spinning fire. “What I can do…it’d scare you to death.”

“Nice light show.” Her hands lifted to his face. Felt the faint sting of a late-night shadow lining his jaw. “I don’t scare easily, Niol.” She dropped the sheet. Straddled his hips. Let the aroused length of his cock slide against her sex.

Flesh to flesh.

The way it had never been for them.

“I’m on the pill,” she told him bluntly. “And I’m clean.”

“I can’t get any diseases that humans have—”

Her brow furrowed. “But I thought demons—”

“Lower-level demons can, weaker immunity. I’m not like them.” He kissed her, hard and deep. She lifted her hips, rubbing along the length of that swollen flesh.

Inside.

She stared into his eyes. So black. So many secrets. “I don’t scare easily,” she repeated, and arched her hips.

The tip of his cock slid into her.

Face-to-face. Sex to sex.

Niol’s hand eased between their bodies. Parted her folds. Stroked the bud that quivered for him.

Then shoved his cock deeper into her.

“Good,” he growled. “Because you’re not getting away from me.”

She pushed up on her knees. Drove down. Up. Down. The rhythm grew faster, harder.

She wanted, needed the pleasure. The wild rush of release to cover the memories he’d stirred.

Screw it. She wanted him.

His cock was hot inside her. Long. Thick. Strong. Filling her. Stretching. Sliding in and out in deep thrusts that had her straining against him.

Her bed was big and sturdy. No squeaks. No moans from the mattress.

Just the deep slide of his cock.

The clench of her sex.

Deep.

Again and again.

She kissed him when she came.

When he released within her, his climax a long wave of heat that caressed her flesh, he said her name.

The spinning flames died away.

Kim Went crept down the hallway at News Flash Five. She knew the rotation of the guards, knew the exact movements of the anchored security cameras.

She’d studied the layout carefully before making her move.

Her lips were dry, her palms wet—and Holly’s office door waited just a few feet away.

Her gaze skated up to the camera. Locked on the lens. The camera swept the hallway, and in five, four, three—

The lens shifted, giving her a perfect opportunity.

She moved in a flash, grabbing the doorknob, shoving open the door and nearly falling inside.

The envelope. Where was it? She had to find it.

Her big break was in that envelope. Her break—and her life.

Kim knew that Holly was sitting on one major story. Everyone at the station did. Holly kept going into private meetings with old Mac, and that guy knew what was hot in the news.

But he wasn’t giving her a chance. No, Mac wouldn’t let Kim on the air, he just sent her after his coffee.

Jerk.

She’d show him. She’d get this story, before Holly, and she’d get her spot on camera.

Kim hadn’t worked her butt off the last four years at Mellrune University in order to be a freaking coffee fetcher. She had student loans that were choking her, and she wasn’t going to be a gofer for the rest of her life, dammit!

She fumbled with the desk. Shoved papers out of her way. Where was the envelope?

Kim had seen Holly’s face when she opened that delivery. Oh, yeah, pay dirt.

And then, when Holly had been so freaking desperate to find out who’d left the envelope—a dead giveaway.

Sometimes, news smelled like blood. Rich and tantalizing.

Kim loved the smell of blood. Always had. Maybe because her stepdad had been a vampire, a vamp who’d met an unfortunate decapitation end in a car accident. She’d tried to get him to transform her, once, but he’d looked at her like she was crazy.

“Shit.” Her whisper was too loud. But she couldn’t find the envelope. Kim jerked open another drawer. Then another.

The envelope had to be related to those murders. Demon murders. She knew the truth about those men and that lady the cops had just found.

She’d heard Ben and Holly talking about her, too.

Demons. All of them.

Old Mac probably thought she didn’t know jack about the real world. She knew enough that she could probably give him nightmares.

Hel , yeah, this story was her big break…and it really was her life, too.

Because she wasn’t about to let the killer come after—

The office door squeaked open.

Kim froze, crouched just over the desk.

A security guard? No, the patrol should have been on the other side and—

“Hello, bitch.”

Terror rose, choking her.

That voice—a low, sinister whisper. Evil.

Kim knew evil.

Knew when she was staring straight at it, even when it wore such a simple disguise.

She reached for the lamp—

And evil attacked.

"I want to talk with Carl’s friends.”

Her voice was quiet. Her hands moved lazily across his chest.

Niol opened his eyes and turned his head.

Fuck. She was so beautiful.

Not a quick screw.

An addiction.

Her nails bit lightly into his flesh. “Did you hear me, Niol? I said—”

He caught her hand. Kissed her fingertips. Tasted her with his tongue. “I heard, love.”

“He mentioned two names to me, Sean and Ted. Said they were close. If he was scared of someone, if somebody was after him, they’d know.”

Yes, he rather thought they would.

“I think they’re demons.”

They were.

“You can set up the meeting with those guys. I know you can find them and—”

Ah, no rest for the wicked. “Meeting’s in…” He glanced over at the gleaming clock on her nightstand. “Forty minutes.”

“What?”

He rose, stealing one last glance at the lady’s gorgeous breasts. “The meeting’s in forty minutes.” Holly was right. The two demons might know something about the bastard who’d been after Carl. After a bit of tracking, he’d found the two guys and arranged a little get-together of sorts.

They hadn’t exactly been eager to accept his initial invitation.

But they’d changed their minds, eventually.

“You weren’t going to tel me about this?”

Niol jerked on his jeans. Rolled his shoulders. “If you asked, I was.”

He heard a growl behind him, then a small palm curled around his shoulder and attempted to swing him around. He turned because he rather liked to see her flushed with anger.

“We’re partners on this case. You’re supposed to be my demon guide here! We’re supposed to be working together—”

“I just told you about the meeting.” A thank-you would have been nice.

Another growl.

He couldn’t help it. Niol kissed her. Damn, but her lips were sweet. He savored the kiss for a moment, enjoying the soft press of her mouth against his, then…“Hurry, love, don’t want to keep the young demons waiting.”

Her teeth snapped together.

People were crammed into Paradise Found. As usual. So closely packed that walking a few feet was a serious effort. Niol sighed, swept his hand ahead of him, and nodded when a light breeze seemed to sweep the dancers back.