Midnight's Master (30 page)

The conscience that had tried to raise its head was quiet now, hushed by his need and hunger.

He just needed her too fucking much to do the honorable shit and walk away.

Don’t make me love you.

Maybe he should have given her the warning sooner.

Too late now, for both of them.

Fucking incompetence. The demon bitch was still alive and guarded by half the police force.

There would be no getting to her now. No slipping inside and finishing up the job, the job that should never have been screwed up in the beginning.

A spleen. Jesus Christ—that was useless. A heart would have been something. A brain, oh, yeah, a good, clean brain. The addict’s brain hadn’t been an option, too screwed up by the chemicals, but the girl—she would have worked.

Gloved fingers curved into fists. Not the way the deal should have gone down.

And now there were witnesses. At least that was the story on the news. Witnesses.

Some nosy bastards who were working with the police on a sketch.

Dammit.

More problems.

If the girl lived, there was no telling what she’d remember. Demons had different responses to the drug she’d been given. Every single time, the response shifted.

No prediction there. Just fear.

Fear.

Fucking demons—they were ruining the world. They all needed to be killed. Sliced open and drained dry. Only then would the world be a safe place. Only then.

“Have to clean up the mess.” Always. No one else could do it right.

The story on the news blared. The anchor cut to an earlier shoot and there was Holly.

Going on and on about that freaking sketch.

Lying, evil Holly. Just as twisted as the others. She was another loose end. Too many of those were lying around. Time to cut them all and wipe away the blood.

Mac was sending her ass al over the city. Holly glanced down at her watch. Four fifty-eight p.m. She’d been running with her cameraman since she’d arrived at the station a little after ten that morning.

She’d woken in Niol’s arms. A pretty great place to be. But before she’d even had the chance to give him a good-morning kiss, her cel phone had started ringing.

Mac. Telling her to drag her butt into the station because they were short a reporter.

Leo Dodge, the police beat reporter, had been involved in a car accident. The guy wasn’t hurt too seriously, but he’d broken a leg and sprained his wrist—

And she was the cover for the day.

At first, Sue Patrick had said she’d cover. The blond special-interest reporter had been pushing for more hard-hitting stories. But then she’d backed out, claiming she’d come down with food poisoning.

Highly possible, considering the woman investigated restaurants with health violations every week.

Holly rolled her shoulders. She didn’t want to be covering follow-ups on home breakins and stolen cars. She wanted to be working the Hunter case. Wanted to be at the hospital, by Kim’s side.

She might wake up today. Might. The doctors hadn’t seemed too optimistic, but Niol had said that Kim would survive. He knew a lot more about the demon psyche and healing powers than those MDs.

Ben braked the news van in front of a small brick house. Boards covered the front windows. Weeds hid the sidewalk. He pushed back his cap as he leaned forward to get a better view of the place.

Holly frowned. “Uh, we’re supposed to be meeting someone here?” Creep city. Great.

The house looked abandoned. Sitting at the dead end of the small neighborhood, it was separated from the other houses, other inhabited houses, by an overgrown lot.

“Mac said we were.”

Holly pulled out her notebook. “Vandals,” she said. “Twenty-eight-oh-nine Nemoy Road.” Mac had told her this house had been targeted three times in the last month by vandals. The place appeared scary as hell, so why vandals would want to break in and spray paint the wal s—

“Guess the owner’s gonna meet us here?” Ben asked, not looking too confident.

Holly’s gaze tracked back to the house. She didn’t see anyone. No cars were in the broken driveway. “We’ll see.” Her thumb jerked toward the sloping porch. “Let’s just get some shots. I’ll check my notes again and then be ready for a take.” If the owner didn’t show up, they’d stil have material and they could finally wrap up this too-tiring day.

Ben’s door squeaked when he shoved it open. He uncoiled his body and stretched.

Holly exited on her side, aware of a tension between her shoulder blades. Odd that, when she—

“Shit, I swear I’ve seen that SUV before.”

She rounded the hood and came to his side. His gaze was on the gray SUV near the neighborhood’s entrance. Holly forced a smile. “You probably have. SUVs like that are everywhere these days.”

He grunted, then shook his head as he opened the side door of the van and grabbed his camera. “Guess you’re right.”

Her gaze darted back to the SUV. Her guards had been with them all day, and after seeing Kim’s injuries, she was real glad of that fact.

While Ben set up, Holly reviewed her notes. Some teens had been arrested two weeks ago, charged with vandalism. Seemed like a pretty straightforward story.

“Help me…”

The hair on Holly’s nape rose.

Her gaze lifted from the notes and zeroed in on the house. “Uh…Ben?”

Another grunt.

Then a curse as he banged his knee on the van.

“Did you hear that?” She asked quietly, turning to stare at him.

His brows bunched together. “Hear what?” His cap cast a shadow over his face.

Great. “Nothing.”

But…

“Help.”

Holly jumped. Okay, that was a woman’s voice. Weak, but definitely a voice and it was coming from inside the house.

“What the fuck?” Ben shoved his camera back into the van and took off toward the house.

“Ben, wait!” She ran after him, managing to catch him near the steps and grab his arm.

“Somebody needs help, Hol! We’ve got to get inside—”

Her stomach knotted. Something felt wrong.

It is wrong. Someone is inside, probably hurt, and you’re dawdling your ass out front.

Get moving! She swallowed. “Right, let’s—”

He was gone. For a big guy, he sure could move fast.

God, please, don’t let me find another broken body.

She hurried after him, yanking her cel phone out.

He kicked the door open and ran inside, calling out, “Hey! Hey, we’re here! Where are you? Where are—” He bounded down the hal .

“Nine-one-one operator. Please state your emergency.” A polite female voice said in her ear.

“Ben, wait! Ah—I’m at 2809 Nemoy Road. Someone’s hurt—”

“What’s the nature of the injury?”

“It’s a—”

Thud.

Her fingers squeezed the phone. “Hold on,” she whispered. Then, louder, “Ben?” He’d gone into the room up toward the right, but she didn’t hear him anymore. “Did you find someone? Ben?”

Oh, shit, this wasn’t good.

“Help me.”

Not Ben’s voice. The woman’s. But coming from the room Ben had just entered, she was sure of it.

Why wasn’t Ben talking?

What the hell was going on?

Run. Her instincts screamed at her but she couldn’t leave Ben behind.

“Send the cops.” Her voice was so soft she was afraid the operator wouldn’t hear her.

Holly stepped back, slowly.

I can’t leave him.

She needed a weapon. Something, anything, but the house was empty. No furniture anywhere.

Just red-paint-stained walls.

The paint reminded her way too much of blood right then.

She kept her phone on, just in case. She’d done a report once on tracking cell phones.

Help could find her that way.

The operator kept talking. Asked how many people were hurt, but responding back to the woman right then was probably not the best idea ever.

The guards are outside. I can run out and get them—

And Ben could be dead before she got back.

Holly had seen how fast killers could work.

Fumbling, she slid the phone into her purse and managed to pull out her can of mace.

Not much of a weapon. Damn little, but there was no choice.

The door to that room squeaked as it swung inward.

“Ben?” She raised her voice. Tried to sound in control. Answer me.

No answer.

Holly lifted the mace and her death grip tightened on it.

“The police are coming! They’ll be here any second—” More like in ten or fifteen minutes, but what the hell. She wasn’t—

A growl. A deep, inhuman sound of fury. Then a figure in black shot out of the room and ran toward her, with something glinting in his hand.

Holy shit—a knife!

Her finger jerked on the mace and a stream of liquid shot right toward the guy in the black ski mask.

A high-pitched scream.

The flash of the knife.

Holly jerked back and felt a burn on her side—No, no, no. The mace fell from her fingers as she kicked out. A long-delayed response that she still thanked God that her Tae Bo instructor had taught her years ago. Her foot caught the attacker’s stomach and shoved him back.

Then Holly ran as fast as she could. Because her Tae Bo skills were pretty poor.

The guards. Get to the guards. “Help!” Her scream was deafening. She was proud of that. And scared because her side throbbed with a burning pain.

The guards would have more acute senses than a human’s. Even as far away as they were, they’d be able to hear her—

“Holly! Holly Storm!”

She loved her some demons.

Two men stormed in the front door.

“Watch out! He’s got a knife—” Holly glanced back over her shoulder.

No one was there.

What?

One of the men, a big, burly, linebacker, I’ll-Break-You type shoved past her.

Wincing, Holly grabbed her side and wasn’t the least bit surprised to feel something wet and sticky touch her fingers.

Not now.

“My cameraman’s missing!” She yelled to the other guy, pressing down hard with her hand. “We have to find him and make sure he’s all right—” And they needed to find the psycho in black.

Oh, damn, but when had she ever been this glad to see a demon?

The guy—Burns something—hurried toward her. “You’re hurt—”

A door slammed. Had to be the back door. The linebacker was giving chase. Good.

“I’m okay—no, stop, I’m al right!” He was trying to pull her hand away, but she didn’t want to look at the wound then. Holly wrestled out of his hold and ran toward the end of the house.

I’m running, can’t be hurt too bad.

The demon reached the door before her. She took a deep breath, but could only smell her own blood. “Ben?”

Her guard went in first. Holly tailed right after him.

Ben was pushing himself up from the floor. An old board, looked like a two-by-four that had fallen from the ceiling, lay beside him. He blinked up at her. “Hol? Wh-what’s goin’ on?”

She could have kissed him then. “Take it easy, Ben.”

He lifted his hand and touched the back of his head. “What the hell hit me?” His baseball cap lay on the stained floor beside him.

They already knew the what. Now they had to figure out who.

The thud of footsteps. Holly glanced over her shoulder, aware of a faint prickling in her face.

The linebacker shook his head. “Long gone.”

Hel .

“Did we…stumble onto the v-vandals?” Ben’s voice drew her gaze back to him. He was on his feet now, swaying just a bit.

“I don’t…think so.” No, not vandals. There was no spray paint around. The guy who’d come after her had been sporting a knife. He’d meant some serious business.

He’d been waiting for them. Hiding in the house and waiting for them to come inside.

How had he known they’d be there? Only Mac knew.

Mac.

“We are in such fucking trouble.” The linebacker’s eyes were on her fingers—her bloody fingers.

“Hol?” Ben paled. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital, we’ve got—”

On perfect cue, the wail of a siren cut through the air.

Holly hoped, really hoped, that the dispatch lady had sent an ambulance because the world around her was starting to dim.

When Holly opened her eyes, a bright light shone right in her face. She winced and tried to turn away.

“Coming back, are you?” A woman’s voice. Dry.

Holly blinked and attempted to focus past the light.

“Hi, there.” A face appeared before her. A woman with faint laugh lines around her eyes and a green hospital cap over her hair. A white mask was pulled low, dangling from her throat. “You’re al stitched up, hon. Should be good as new.”

Stitched up? What was she—

The house.

The psycho with the knife.

Holly shot up, nearly slamming her head into the doctor.

“Easy…”

“Did you put me out?”

A quick smile. “No, hon, you were out when the EMTs brought you here.” She pushed an instrument tray away. Holly glanced at that tray and tried not to think about Kim.

Failed.

“You needed eleven stitches. You were really lucky—”

Wasn’t that the truth.

“The blade dug across your skin, but you managed to deflect the brunt of the hit.”

Her shirt was gone. She wore a hospital gown, one gaping open in the front. Perfect.

Holly jerked it closed and winced when she felt the pull of the stitches.

“You’ve got a crowd outside.” One blond brow rose. “Lot of folks must care about you.”

“I want to see her—now.” The roar penetrated right through the wal s.

“Yep, sure must care.”

That familiar roar—Niol’s voice.

“Think you can walk out under your own steam?”

Fifty-fifty shot of that.

“Usually, we’re supposed to keep folks in for observation, but…” A delicate pause and the cheerful gray eyes suddenly darkened to black. “You’re not most folks, are you?”

Her breath caught. “How did you—”

A wink. “I knew your grandmother.” She handed Holly her shirt. “Take care, little demon.” Then the doctor turned around and walked away.

At the first opportunity, Niol was going to nail demon ass to the walls of his bar. Niol glared at the two ex-guards, his body vibrating with fury. “Where the hell were you two while Holly was getting attacked?”