Midnight Sins

Chapter 11

Smith’s hands were shaking when the detectives finally left with their little guest.

Guest.

A demon.

Oh, God, but they were everywhere—and, from the sound of things, another one was out there, a crazy psycho like the one who had attacked her. Only this time, instead of ripping out throats, the killer was seducing and murdering.

She braced her elbows on her desk and lowered her head into her palms. The faint strains of jazz swirled around her. The music had once relaxed her.

But the music had been playing when that asshole took her. He’d come into the Crypt, smiled at her, and then lunged.

She’d seen teeth. Too sharp. Claws.

Then she’d seen darkness.

Only to awake to a nightmare.

Her shoulders hunched. Every person she met. Every. Single. Person. She wondered about them. Human? Demon? Shifter? Vampire? Something far worse?

The bodies that came in, she studied then with sharper eyes—and remembered the times bodies had been “transferred” out of her care due to a so-called overload in her department.

Had those transferred bodies been supernaturals? Were they moved so that she wouldn’t notice differences in genetics?

She suspected they had been.

The door to the Crypt squeaked open.

Smith gasped, spun around, and found Danny McNeal standing in the doorway.

She shot to her feet and demanded, “What do you want, Captain?” Their personal relationship had ended. His choice. He’d ended the best damn thing she’d ever had over six months ago. No explanations. Just a cold, hard cut.

They probably shouldn’t have ever gotten involved in the first place. They worked together. He was the captain with the bright future that everyone was always talking about.

She was the ME who carved up the dead.

But she’d wanted him.

He’d wanted her.

And late one night, when she’d gone to his office to give him a report, they’d finally given in to that need.

The passion between them had burned hard for three months.

Then he’d shut her out.

The bastard.

The worse part—he’d ripped out her heart.

Not that she’d ever let him know that.

Her chin lifted when he stepped inside the Crypt. “Do you need a case file?”

His gaze swept the room. Returned to her. Turbulent gray. “I need to talk to you.”

“Unless it’s about one of those bodies,” she pointed in the direction of the vaults, “we don’t have anything to say.” Maybe not the most adult response, but she didn’t really give a shit.

She’d been through hell the last few months, and she wasn’t in the mood to hear him ramble about crap. Besides, she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. After the attack, he’d started looking at her kind of…funny.

With eyes too intent. Always watching.

After the way he’d kicked her aside, the jerk was probably feeling guilty. Good. He should. He—

“You need to know something about me.” McNeal stalked toward her, and yeah, stalked was the best description.

Smith tried to study him dispassionately. Really, her friends had asked her what she’d seen in the guy. He was white, for one thing, and her girls had never been into the white men. And he was older. Nine years.

And bald.

But on him, being bald, being older, even being white—it worked.

There was a hardness to him, a strength, in his face, along that stiff jaw, in those eyes. And then there was the aura of power that had always drawn her to him…

Jerk bastard.

“What do I need to know?” She snapped. “That you’re an asshole? I know that already. That you’re sorry I got taken by that freak? Yeah, I know that, too.”

“It’s not that…” McNeal looked damn uncomfortable. “You need to know—”

Now her heart was racing too fast. “What? You’re seeing someone else? Great.” No, it wasn’t, and the pain clawing through her chest told her that. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to finish working on the Monroe case and with all these damn monsters around I—”

“I’m one of them, Nathalia.”

Her blood iced. “One of wh-what?” But she knew. God, but she knew.

“I’m not completely human.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. “I really don’t need this now, Dan.”

He took a step toward her.

The back of her legs rammed into the desk when she instinctively moved back.

“Jesus, babe, relax, you know I’d never hurt you.”

But you did. “What are you?” Not a demon, or a shifter, please not—

A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I’m known as a charmer.”

“What? What the hell is that?” A nightmare. That was it. She was having one really wild-ass nightmare—

“My kind—”

His kind?

“—we’re highly psychic and have the ability to communicate with certain animals.”

Her eyes widened. “Your apartment. That fucking big snake—”

McNeal coughed. “That was…ah…actually my mother’s.”

This just kept getting worse. “Your mom talks to snakes?”

A quick nod.

It was unbelievable. No, it should have been unbelievable.

But she knew it was the truth. “So what do you do?”

“Cats.”

“Like what? Meow-meow kitties that—”

“Tigers.”

Of course. No soft and friendly little cats for him.

“I found my connection with Shaman, a white tiger who used to be housed at the zoo, when I was a kid.”

The man talked to tigers. Her head pounded so hard that Smith was a bit afraid of passing out, and she refused to humiliate herself that way in front of him. “Get out, McNeal.”

Another step toward her. This time, the move put him close enough to touch. “We’re not all bad, babe.”

She stiffened at the endearment and the touch that had her wanting to lean closer to him. “I can’t deal with this” you “right now.”

There was a flash of torment on his face. “I am so fucking sorry about what happened to you. I never, ever wanted anything or anyone to hurt you—”

“But you just didn’t want me, right?” The words she’d held back for so long burst forth and she was glad. She was tired of pretending everything was fine and that she wasn’t human enough to feel pain.

Because she was human, even if he wasn’t.

The saddest smile she’d ever seen curled his lips. “No, baby, that wasn’t it at all.”

Liar. She knew her eyes said what her mouth didn’t.

“I was afraid if you found out the truth, you wouldn’t want me.” He glanced down at her, eyes narrowed.

She realized that she was all but flinching away from him. Her body recoiling, knees shaking.

“I guess I was right.” He dropped his hand. Stepped back. Then turned and walked away.

Before she found her voice, the door had swung shut behind him and she was left with the sting of memories and the bitter taste of fear on her tongue.

“Brooks.”

Colin’s gruff voice stopped him just as Todd reached for his Vette. He tensed at Colin’s approach, really not in the mood for a pissing match.

But when Colin stood beside him, the guy hesitated. Colin drove his hands into the deep pockets of his jacket. Glanced around the all-but-empty parking lot.

“What is it, Gyth?” Maybe something had come up about the case or about Cara or—

Colin’s bright stare turned slowly back to him. “I couldn’t tell you.” Stark.

Todd didn’t speak, just waited.

“When I was in Illinois, my partner—he found out what I was.” A pause. “He tried to kill me.”

Well, shit.

“I couldn’t take the risk that you’d—I just couldn’t risk another partner turning on me.”

Yeah, Todd could see where an attempted murder would make a guy hesitate. “I’m not your old partner. I’m not gonna reach for my gun just because you’re…different.” Too tame of a word for a werewolf.

“Good to know.” Colin’s eyes held his. “Why didn’t you say something, after you saw—”

Because at first, he’d been too damn stunned. Then he’d tried to convince himself it hadn’t happened, then he’d gotten so furious and then—“I wanted you to tell me.” But now, knowing what Colin’s last partner had done, Todd understood more about the guy—and he knew that Colin probably would never have told him.

He tried to kill me.

Shit. No wonder it had been hard for Colin to trust him.

Colin exhaled. “So what happens now? Are we gonna keep working together, or—”

“Hell, yeah, we’re gonna keep working together.” Like he’d really go to the trouble of breaking in anybody else. Besides, Colin was one damn fine cop.

With a few peculiarities. What had shocked him weeks ago, now just, okay, still shocked him. But he was dealing with the situation—or at least learning to deal with it.

Todd narrowed his eyes. “But no more secrets, man. You trust me, and I’ll trust you.” Simple.

A grim nod. “Agreed.” Colin held out his hand. The shake was brief, strong.

“Now get the hell out of here,” Todd said, jerking his thumb toward Colin’s old Jeep. “You don’t want to leave that sexy doc of yours waiting too long.”

A smile broke Colin’s lips. “No, man, I sure don’t—my doc’s not exactly the waitin’ type.” He turned away, then hesitated. When he glanced back at Todd, his smile was gone. “Be careful with your lady, Todd. A woman like her, she’s got a lot of secrets, too.”

Yeah, he knew she did. And he also knew those secrets weren’t going to stand in his way. He wanted Cara—and he intended to have her.

Todd heard the soft knock at his door just as he was about to head into the shower. He paused, sent a quick glance at the clock.

Midnight.

His steps were swift as he hurried from the bedroom. He knew the identity of his caller even before he opened the wooden door.

He’d smelled her.

Cara stood just past the threshold, dressed all in black with her hair pulled into some sort of sexy twist. Her eyes were lined with dark shadow, her lips tinted red.

“You missed my first show tonight,” she said. Then stepped forward.

He fell back, knowing she’d come fully into his apartment and wanting her there.

Needing her there. “It’s still early. Shouldn’t you be at Paradise?” The woman usually played at least three sets.

“I told Niol I had business tonight.”

“Business,” he repeated the word softly. “Is that what I am?”

A slow shake of her head. “I looked for you in the crowd, but you weren’t there.”

There was something in her voice. “Missed me, did you?”

A faint frown appeared between her brows. “Yes, actually, I think I did.”

Well, damn. He hadn’t been expecting quite that level of honesty from her.

“We need to talk, Todd and—” Her gaze darted behind him, landed on the pile of books he’d tossed haphazardly onto the sofa. A golden brow arched. “Doing some light reading?”

Shit. “Just some books I picked up. Nothing important.”

But she brushed around him, heading straight for the sofa, those delicate hands reaching down and—

“Demonology: A Hunter’s Guide.” She grabbed another heavy volume. “Unmasking the Demon.” As Cara reached for the third book, the one he’d made the mistake of leaving open, a gasp tore from her lips. “And what the hell is this?”

He didn’t need to see the picture to know what had pissed her off. He could remember the image perfectly. One side of the page featured a sketch of a beautiful, naked woman, hair streaming down her shoulders, lips curled in a smile of anticipation.

Then, on the other side of the page, the illustrator had drawn the picture of a “real” succubus. It was a demon with a long, pointed tail, a body covered in scales, a face like a dog, and a snarling mouth full of jagged teeth.

“Ah, Cara…”

She threw the book at him. It missed his head by about three inches. “Is that what you think I am?”

He hoped to heaven not. “You said demons used glamour—”

“I use it to hide my eye color, not to disguise the fact that I’m some kind of freakish hag! Ugh!” A flush stained her cheeks. “That writer is a complete moron, and so are you, if you’re buying into that crap. A succubus looks, well, damn it, look at me! Just like a woman.”

A beautiful woman. Seductive. Physically perfect.

He lifted his hand to her. “I think you’re exactly what you appear to be.”

Now she eyed him suspiciously. “And what’s that?”

“The woman I want.” His head still swam with the new knowledge that he had, but one thing was absolutely clear to him. He wanted Cara.

Her face softened.

“Why did you come here tonight?” He asked, trying to force his gaze to stay on the lines of her face when the hunger demanded that he stare at her body. Those breasts. Such a wonderful size for his hands—and they tasted so sweet in his mouth.

And her legs…He wanted them wrapped around his waist. Holding him tight as he thrust deep inside her.

“I didn’t just take from you, Todd. You aren’t prey to me.” She crossed back to his side. “I want you to understand that.” Her hand rose to his chest, pressed just above his heart.

At her touch, his cock swelled even more with a flood of arousal. “I thought that was what you had to do. Take energy.”

“We can take, but we can also give to our lovers.” The heat of her hand seemed to sear him through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “Tell me, how have you been feeling since we made love?”

Better than he had in weeks. Months. A cautious “Good” was his only answer.

Her lips curved. “We did that. The energy from our bond spilled into us, renewed us—and made us both more powerful.”

That sounded like a pretty good deal to him. “So it’s not always like that? What usually happens?” Not that he wanted to think of her with others.

The smile faded away. “Usually we take what we want. Humans are left with pleasure, but their bodies are much weaker than before. The weakness can last for a few hours or even days.”

“Why didn’t you just take from me?”

“I don’t know.” Stark.

Again, more honesty than he’d expected. Her lips were just a few inches away from his. Her eyes were so blue. A deception, that. He didn’t want any more deceptions. “Show me your eyes. Your real eyes.”

Her lids lowered in a slow blink. When her lashes lifted, her eyes were blacker than the night. He raised his hand. Traced a fingertip under her left eye. “Beautiful,” he murmured, and meant it. With Niol, the dark eyes looked scary as hell, but the darkness didn’t detract from Cara’s appeal. It added to it. Made her look mysterious, wild.

“I want you.” There was no coyness in her. “Naked. Inside me.”

That was exactly where he wanted to be.

“I don’t want anything between us. I can’t catch any diseases that humans have, and I control my own fertility.”

Handy.

“I want you, flesh to flesh, with me.”

The lady had caught him at “naked.”

He bent his head. Kissed her. A slow, tasting kiss. When she moaned, the sound rumbling in the back of her throat, every nerve in his body tightened.

She pulled away from him, licked her red lips. “But first, I want a taste.”

Her powerful scent surrounded him. Sex. Woman. Magic. When she dropped to her knees before him, Todd actually felt light-headed for a moment. “You don’t have to—”

But her hands were working on the buckle of his jeans, easing down the zipper and then shoving the rough denim and his boxers out of the way.

His cock bobbed toward her. The head was stiff and a drop of moisture already coated the tip of his arousal. Her hands wrapped around his swollen length. Tightened. Stroked.

Pleasure lashed through him.

“Relax,” she murmured softly and Todd realized he was growling in anticipation. “I’m only going to give.”

Then her mouth was on him. Lips parted and soft. Tongue caressing as she closed her mouth over him.

His fingers wrapped around her head, dug into the silken tendrils of her hair.

A powerful energy snaked through him. Her mouth was heaven. Every sexy move of her lips paradise. But there was more. More than he’d ever felt.

The feelings were magnified, spiraling along his nerves and cells, the pleasure pulsating within him.

Her mouth caressed his cock, her lips featherlight. Her fingers circled the base of his shaft and she moved her hand in time to the seductive motions of her lips and tongue.

Driving. Him. Insane.

His cock swelled even more under her ministrations. His hands fisted in her hair, and each move of her mouth had him nearly begging.

But then she pulled away. Easily broke his hold and leaned back, bracing her palms against the floor as she gazed up at him.

No, damn it, not yet, he wasn’t—

“I like the way you taste, Todd. I like it a lot.”

He swore he could actual hear the rip of his control shredding. He fell to his knees beside her, hands trembling. A roar filled his ears and a growl churned in his throat. A red haze of need covered his eyes and he reached for her with hands that were too rough, far too strong for her delicate skin.

She met him eagerly. Fought with him to jerk off her shirt. To bare those breasts that he loved. Then he shoved her bra out of the way. Caught one tight nipple between his teeth while his right hand fondled her other breast. The heady scent that was pure Cara thickened in the air.

He suckled her, drawing her breast into his mouth, then slipping back to lave her nipple. God, but the woman had great breasts. Pink nipples. Sweet, firm flesh. Not too big. Just right for his mouth.

He dragged his fingers down her body. Managed to push down her pants as she shifted, and Cara kicked off her pumps and the pants in a hard, fast move.

With a last lick, he lifted his head. She wore only black panties now. A small scrap really. Barely covered her mound. His fingers wrapped around her hips, and his eyes zeroed in on that tempting flesh.

She’d gotten to command his body. Turnabout was only fair.

“Spread your legs.” A guttural demand.

Cara smiled, pure enticement, and spread those long, slender legs.

He eased down between her thighs, lowering his head right over the dark silk. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of her cream. The rich promise of hot sex.

The promise of her.

His lips pressed against the silk. A stark kiss. She arched beneath him, sliding more fully against his mouth.

Just where he wanted her.

He could feel the soft nub of her clitoris pressing through the underwear. He rubbed his tongue over the sensitive spot, loving the way she sighed his name with each soft touch.

But it wasn’t enough.

The fingers of his right hand caught the silk. Tugged and the fabric tore free. Then her sex was bare. Open. Ready for his kiss.

He put his lips against her first. Explored her creamy flesh. Moved as slowly as he wanted so that he could learn every inch of her. Learn what she liked. What made her moan and twist and shake.

Then he used his tongue, sliding it into the folds of her tight core, taking the rich cream and giving pleasure. He lapped at her. Tasted. Drove his tongue deep. Again and again and—

Todd felt her climax against him with a shudder.

He drank up her release, driving his tongue deeper into her body, hearing her cries and loving the feel of her nails as they dug into his shoulders.

When the shivers faded, his head lifted, just a few inches. Todd licked his lips as his fingers slipped over her mound and stroked the center of her need. Oh, damn, but she was wet and more than ready for him now. The flesh swollen, warm and waiting to be fucked.

Todd drove two fingers deep into her straining sex.

He felt the sudden tightness of her body beneath his with a rush of satisfaction. His succubus wanted to come again for him. Her sex clenched around his fingers, a telling sign that he wouldn’t ignore.

Todd pulled away from her, only to reposition his body, lodging the head of his cock against her moist opening. The feel of her sex against his, the creamy warmth, the silken skin, had him gritting his teeth as he thrust forward.

Her hand rose. Covered his heart. For an instant, he stilled.

Then her gaze met his. Black eyes. Dark and deep.

Her lips curved.

He caught her hand with his. Pressed it harder against his chest. Felt the air around him seem to shimmer, to pulse.

He drove into her, burying balls-deep in one hard move.

Then he was moving. Thrusting. Withdrawing. Thrusting. Cara wrapped her legs around him. Arched into his driving hips.

Her face took on a faint glow. A light from within. A faint stir of gentle wind blew against his face, then all over him, and her hand stayed steady and warm against his chest.

His thrusts became harder. Deeper. “I want to feel you come,” he gritted. He wanted to feel her release, to see it on her face.

“Then you will,” she whispered, and gasped, tipping back her head and squeezing her legs even tighter around him.

The feelings hit him then. The ripples of pleasure that weren’t his own. The shattering euphoria that danced along his skin.

Hers.

He didn’t understand how, but he was feeling her release. Riding the wave of her pleasure, just as he plunged into her body.

“Ah…Todd! Kiss me!”

His lips caught hers. His tongue drove into her mouth.

And his hips pistoned against her.

His climax hit him, rolling over him in a furious burst of power.

When she stiffened and moaned into his mouth, he knew she felt the surge of release, too.

An exchange. Not just taking. Giving.

From both.

He held her tighter. Kept thrusting, trying to wring every drop of sensual satisfaction from their bodies. His skin was slick with sweat, his muscles trembling. But he didn’t want to stop.

Not ever.

So when the climax ended, he just kept thrusting. His cock swelled within her. Her legs gripped him tight, and she stared straight up at him with her midnight eyes.

Magic was around him. Pressing in the air. Dancing on his skin. The glow of power lit her body.

And his.

It gave him strength, a stamina he’d never had. Not so quickly. Never as fast—

So the thrusts continued. The strange link that he had with her intensified. He knew what she wanted. Knew exactly where to touch and kiss, without her having to say a word. Their breaths panted out, their hearts thundered in a mad, matching rhythm, and the furious race to climax had them locked tight.

So tight that he could almost touch her soul.

When they came again, they came together. Mouths, bodies.

Spirits.

A demon and a man.

No, a woman and a man.

A perfect match.

He held her, arms too tight, and knew that he’d go to hell for her in a heartbeat.

A sobering thought for a man who’d already fought the devil once in his life—and had the scar to prove it.

“I know you didn’t kill House.” He spoke in the darkness, when the heat of the passion had cooled, but the magic still fired their blood. “Or any of the others.”

They were in his bed. Naked. His body curled over hers, his right hand on her breast. His left arm rested beneath her head.

She turned to look at him. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah.” He’d touched her in ways most men wouldn’t understand. Not physical. Her heart. Soul. He’d felt her, down to the core of her spirit. Cara wasn’t evil. “You’re not a killer.” He’d said the same words at the station, but he needed to say them again, now, with her in his arms and her scent on his skin.

She swallowed. “I told you from the beginning that I didn’t kill Michael.” There was an ache in her voice when she said the other man’s name.

Cara had cared House, maybe even loved him. Todd ached for the pain she felt, even as an insidious curl of jealousy rose within him.

But House was gone now, poor bastard. A death he hadn’t deserved.

He’d find the guy’s killer—because it was his job and because he liked to give victims their peace.

His fingers eased over Cara’s flesh. “I can be a hard man, Cara. My job’s important to me. Doing what’s right. Protecting those who can’t protect themselves. I take it all seriously.” For years, the badge had been all he had. He wanted her to understand him. The darkness inside, a darkness he knew she’d felt.

Her cheek rested on his arm as she gazed at him. “Why did you become a cop?”

The memory of his mother’s scream burned in his mind. “My dad was a cop. He worked for the Atlanta PD for eighteen years.” Most folks took the statement at face value and left it at that. A boy, wanting to grow up and be like his father.

Some truth. Some lie.

“But why did you join the force?” The dark eyes that stared back at him saw too much.

Too deeply.

Todd found himself telling her a story he’d never told another. Not even the grandfather who’d wound up raising him. “My dad worked undercover. Deep undercover. Months would go by and we wouldn’t see him, then when he would finally come home, he’d be a stranger.” A hard, brooding stranger who smelled of alcohol and smoke. One whose eyes had been flint sharp and whose mouth had never smiled.

“He was a good cop, though. Everyone said so.” And there had been so many plaques and medals in his dad’s room. His mom had polished them every single week, smiling that same, sad smile as she cleaned them. “I don’t know how many guys my dad put away over the years. Drug dealers. Robbers. Killers. He made a lot of enemies in his time, the kind of enemies who don’t forget or forgive when they’ve been betrayed.”

Cara didn’t speak. Just watched him.

“A guy got out one day. Tony Costa. My dad had been undercover in the guy’s crew. Busted him for selling coke and for the murders of two prostitutes.”

“And he got out?” Cara asked, surprise in her voice.

The woman didn’t understand the human justice system. “He rolled on some higher-ups. Pleaded to manslaughter for the prostitutes and wound up serving a seven-year sentence.” He sucked in a deep breath. This was the part that he hated to remember. “I was fourteen when Tony was paroled. I remember because it was my birthday. Mom had ordered me a cake and we were just leaving the house to go get it.” He’d been going to have a swimming party. The plan had been to get the cake and go back home to set up before his friends came over.

“Costa was waiting for us in the driveway. He had a gun.”

“Todd…”

“He made us go back inside. Told mom to call dad. Said to ‘get the bastard over there so he could watch.’ But dad was undercover, and mom couldn’t get him. She told Costa she could call his captain, but—” A lump was in his throat now, choking back the words. “But Costa knew a call to the captain would have cops swarming over him. So he smiled at my mom, and he killed her. The bastard shot her point-blank in the head.”

She wrapped her arms around him, turning to burrow her head against his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

He felt cold. Even with the warmth of her body pressing down against him, he felt so damn cold. “Then he turned the gun on me.”

She froze against him. A burst of wind blew into the room, sweeping over his body, ruffling the sheets and covers.

Her head lifted. “He shot you.”

Todd caught her hand. Brought it to rest against the old, jagged scar on his left side. “I tried to run, but the bullet caught me.” He’d thought he was dying when he felt the burning lash of the pain in his side. The fiery agony had stolen his breath, then he’d seen the blood. So much blood. His. His mother’s. Everywhere. “He left me there. Bleeding out on the floor, with my mother’s body only a few feet away.” He still had nightmares about that day. Still woke up in a cold sweat, wishing he’d done something to save his mother. Wishing he couldn’t still smell her blood on his skin.

“But you survived.” Her fingers curled over the white scar. “You got out of there. You lived.”

“A neighbor heard the gunshots. Called nine-one-one. I woke up in a hospital, my side stitched up, and found my grandfather sitting beside me.”

“And where was your father?” He caught the snap of anger in her voice—and the soft echo of pain, for him.

“Tracking Costa. He came to see me, once, in the hospital. He hugged me and told me that he regretted a lot of the things he’d done in his life.” His dad had been the same hard, stranger, but he’d also seemed…desperate. He’d put back on his wedding band, a ring Todd had never seen the man wear. “He told me then that ‘if you go too deep into the devil’s world, only darkness will fill you.’ It was the last thing he ever said to me.”

“Did he catch the man who’d shot you?” Quiet words in a beautiful face that was suddenly deadly.

The windows were still closed to the night. The magic wind had disappeared now. The air was strangely tense around him.

“Yeah, he caught him. Didn’t even try to bring him in. My dad shot Costa in the head and in the heart. Then he turned the gun on himself.”

Eighteen years on the force, and his dad had eaten his gun. And left him alone.

“I hated him for leaving me. For years, I didn’t understand why he’d done it—”

“He thought it was his fault,” she said, her voice soft. “Humans…do crazy things when guilt presses on them.”

This was the part he didn’t like to think about. “I blamed him, Cara. For my mother’s death. For me getting shot. If he’d just been at home, taking care of his family like he should have been doing, none of this would have ever happened.” The words came from the boy he’d been, though he liked to think the man knew better.

Yeah, he liked to think that. “When I first woke up and realized that my mom was gone, I wished it had been him instead of her.” And he’d kept wishing that, even when his father had finally come to see him in the hospital. He’d wished it until…“His captain came to see me a few days after I was released. I was staying at my grandfather’s.” His mom’s father had been an affluent, somewhat reserved man who lived in one of the older, richer parts of Atlanta. He’d never approved of his only child marrying a cop, and he’d been fighting hard to get a custody hearing for Todd when the captain had come calling with his dark news.

“How did you feel, when you learned what had happened?” Her naked body pressed against his, and the flesh-on-flesh contact was strangely comforting. Her hand stroked his scar, softly, tenderly, and the mysterious eyes that stared into his held no censure. Just patience. Warmth.

Warmth in darkness.

His skin didn’t seem quite so cold anymore, but inside, he still felt like his heart was encased in ice. “I was so fucking glad that Tony Costa was dead. So fucking glad.”

She pressed a kiss against his chest. Right over his heart. “But what about your father?”

He’d been furious with him. “He didn’t have to die, Cara. There were so many other options for him, he didn’t have to die.”

“Maybe he thought he did.”

“Well, he was damn well wrong.” He’d taken the coward’s way out. The easy way.

“He might have thought that he’d failed you, your mother. A man who’d spent his life protecting others would have a hard time facing the fact that he’d failed to protect the ones who’d mattered the most.”

Yeah, the shrinks had all said something like that. They’d told him that his father had been disturbed, pushed past his reason by the murder of his wife.

But the simple truth was that his dad had chosen to put that gun into his mouth.

And chosen to leave the world and his son behind.

He hadn’t forgiven him for that, not yet.

Not deep inside.

“You hate him, don’t you?” Again, no censure. No judgment of any kind. Just a quiet question and those eyes, watching him.

“For a long time, I did. I’m still mad as hell at him for what he did, but—” The truth? “It takes too much energy to hate. I wish he’d been different. I wish I’d been different, but hating a dead man isn’t going to make my life any better.”

“Will blaming him?”

The direct question made him flinch. Suddenly, part of him wanted to jump from the bed, to put distance between them. And another part wanted to hold her as tight as he could. “It helps me to sleep at night, baby.”

“No, I don’t think it does.” Now she kissed him on the mouth. Not a passionate kiss. Her lips were closed, the touch brief, but soothing. “Nothing makes death easier to bear. Nothing.” There was a knowledge in her voice. A pain that hinted at her own loss.

He brushed back her hair, and wondered what had caused the sadness he felt in her. A sadness that more than matched his own.

He wanted to ask her. Had begun telling her about his father because he’d wanted her to learn to trust him—as he was learning to trust her.

But now wasn’t the time to push her, he knew that. And perhaps he’d already revealed too much about himself, too soon.

“If you blamed him, then why did you become a cop?”

He would tell her this. “Because I needed to prove him wrong.” He’d also wanted to save others, as he hadn’t been able to save his mother. But he didn’t tell her that.

“How?”

“You don’t have to give up your humanity to be a good cop. You can fight killers, mon—” He broke off, uncomfortable with that particular word choice. “Evil without becoming evil yourself.”

“And trying to make up for your mother’s death? That has nothing to do with it, hmmm?”

Insightful demon.

Smart woman. “Yeah, it does.” He tightened his arms around her. The past weighed too heavily on him. He’d opened the door, but too much had spilled through. “Enough of this talk, Cara. It’s late, you’re here, I’m here, and the dead, they’re buried now.”

“Sometimes they don’t stay buried.” Whispered words.

“What?”

She shook her head and brushed her lips against his once more. “Nothing.” Her arms wrapped around him, held him tight.

For the first time in years, Todd almost felt at peace.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled her sweet scent.

Susan Dobbs paced in front of the phone booth. She was nervous as hell, but the call had to be made.

She’d driven hard and fast to get out of the city. He had too many friends, spies, in Atlanta, and she’d been afraid one of them would see her making the call. Hell, she’d even thought about buying one of those cheap, disposable cell phones, but she’d stopped at two stores and hadn’t been able to find any in stock.

Just her fucking bad luck.

But it didn’t matter—this way was better, anyway. Dozens of people used this phone every day, so the call would never be traced back to her. Besides, once she made the call, she’d keep driving straight down that long, dark road, and no one in Atlanta would ever see her ass again.

Her palms were sweating and her heart pounded so hard that her chest hurt.

He didn’t know what she’d done. The last attack hadn’t been part of their original plan. When he found out, Susan knew the guy was going to be fucking furious.

But damn it, when was she supposed to ever have any fun?

Taking a breath, Susan reached for the phone. A lock of blond hair fell over her eye, and she shoved it out of the way with her left hand.

Then she dialed the cop’s number, a number she’d memorized days before.