Midnight Sins

Chapter 8

He jerked on his clothes, so furious that his hands shook. “Look, baby, if you want to blow me off, that’s fine, but don’t give me some bullshit about being a monster—”

“It’s not bullshit,” she said, blond brows rising in what could have been a flare of annoyance.

“—because I know all about real monsters, okay? I deal with them every fucking day. Rapists. Child killers. Fire freaks who burn down homes with nice old ladies inside—”

She flinched.

“Unless you’re about to tell me that you did kill Michael House,” and Jesus but he hoped she wasn’t, “then don’t screw around with me by throwing out labels that I understand one hell of a lot better than you do.” She’d hit his weak spot, and he was furious. Todd knew all about the evil in the world. Had known about it since his fourteenth birthday, when he’d watched that bastard Costa smile and shoot his mother straight in the heart. Monsters. Yeah. He knew all about the bastards, and the evil that lived in what they pretended were souls.

“I didn’t kill Michael.” She licked her lips again. Stood there with that towel wrapped around her and looked so damn good that he ached. “But I am a monster, Todd. I-I’m a demon.”

He’d just finished dressing when she made her announcement. He shook his head, slowly. “Run that one by me again, baby.” No way the lady had just said—

“I’m a demon, Detective. A real, honest-to-God,” her mouth curved slightly at that in a wan smile, “demon.”

Todd stared at her, not quite sure what to say. The automatic words, You’re crazy, trembled on his lips.

And he would have said those words to her—two months ago.

Yeah, back then, he would have laughed at her claim. Asked what her punch line was.

But that was two months ago.

Back before the dangerous night when he’d trailed his partner to the warehouse district on the darker side of Atlanta and watched his partner of two years stop being a man—and become a snarling, deadly beast.

A wolf.

Todd hadn’t said a word to anyone about what he’d seen. He’d followed Colin because the guy was his partner, and partners backed each other up.

He’d been shaken as hell. Stunned.

He’d planned to follow the wolf into the warehouse, help him, but the captain had paged him, said that he had to get back to the station ASAP—and that he knew where Todd was.

The order had been blunt. Get your ass out of there before you get Colin killed.

So he’d left. He’d taken a heavy knowledge with him—a knowledge he hadn’t shared with anyone—because, well, who would believe him?

At first, he’d had so many dreams about that night. Memories of that brutal shift. The snap of bones and the growl of the beast had haunted his nights.

He’d kept at his job, though, damn it. Bit back the instinctive fear that roused its head. And he’d stuck by his partner’s side, even when he’d been pissed and confused as all hell.

He’d thought that Colin was an anomaly, but now—

“Did you hear me?” Cara raised her voice. “I-I just told you that I’m a demon.”

Todd blinked. First werewolves, now demons. But Cara didn’t look like a demon. No horns. No tail. No forked tongue. Or was all that stuff he’d heard as a kid just bullshit?

“This is the point where most guys get really afraid and leave, as fast as they can.” She hesitated. “Uh, Todd? Can you say something? Are—are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right,” he gritted. “My lover just told me she’s a damn demon.” Not the best news he could have gotten, but at least she hadn’t confessed to being a murdering demon. “You…don’t look like a demon.”

Now her smile really did break his heart. “Sure I do,” she said, and closed her eyes. When they opened a second later, they were black. Completely black.

“Shit!”

Another blink, and her blue gaze was back. “It’s just a little glamour,” she told him, lifting a brow.

Those eyes. He’d seen them before. The darkness. Black cornea. Retina. He’d seen it with—

Niol. That asshole at Paradise Found. He’d wondered why someone would wear contacts like that, but if Cara was telling him the truth, that meant Niol was a demon, too.

And that fact made a hell of a lot of sense when Todd remembered his strange attack in the bar.

“You’re handling this, um, rather well.” Cara gazed at him solemnly.

When Todd lifted his hand to shove back his wet hair, he noticed a tremble still in his fingers. Not that well, baby. He tried for rational. “Demons aren’t real.” He knew the statement was a lie the minute the words slipped out. His partner was a werewolf. If werewolves could exist, then why not demons, too?

Shit, but the world was even more messed up than he’d originally thought, and about a hundred times more dangerous.

“Of course, we’re real. We’ve been living with humans from the very beginning.” She held up her hand. “And before you start asking, let me just tell you, demons are not the spawn of the devil, okay? Total myth, that part. We’re just a…different race.”

Different race. Seemed simple enough—but his thundering heart wasn’t quite buying the simple explanation. Christ. “What kind of demon are you?” His gaze raked down her body. “And just how much, uh—” What had she called it? “Glamour have you been using on me?” A cold wind seemed to blow over him. The woman was too pretty. Too perfect looking by far. Hell, the only flaw on her body was that birthmark on her hip, and it really wasn’t a flaw so much as—well, a mark he wanted to bite.

Too perfect. He’d thought it from the beginning. Just what, exactly, was she hiding beneath the glamour?

Did he really want to know?

“Don’t be an idiot!” Cara snapped, and turned on her heel. She stomped toward the chaise and picked up a thin, blue robe. She shouldered into it, letting the towel drop to the ground.

Todd swallowed and absolutely refused to try and catch a glimpse of her naked sex.

“I’m not using glamour to do anything but camouflage my eyes, okay? In case you didn’t notice, they’re a bit of a giveaway, don’t you think? And it’s not like I want to go around advertising my true self to the world!”

“Well, your ‘true self’ is what I’m interested in.” Last night, he would have done almost anything to claim her. The lust had been that wild. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder…how much of it had been real?

A demon. He didn’t know anything about demons or their power. It was so unbelievable. So insane, so—

True.

He knew in his gut Cara wasn’t lying, and too many facts and situations from over the years were rolling through his head.

So much made sense now. The angry stares in Paradise Found. The strange energy he’d felt there.

“I’m not using glamour to shield my body or my face,” she said, hands tightening into fists.

“So that crap about demons having horns and pointed tails is—what? Straight lies?”

“No. It’s true for certain very, very old and very, very powerful demons.”

Hell.

“I’m not a very strong demon,” Cara admitted and did her cheeks flush? Was the woman, ah, demon, embarrassed by her weakness?

“And just what kind of demon are you?” He asked her again, and wondered why she hadn’t answered him before.

Her mouth opened as if she were going to reply, then she stopped and pressed her lips together.

Uh, oh. Not a good sign. But, just how many demons were there, anyway?

“You’re not acting particularly shocked,” she said slowly, and, once more—not answering his question. There was suspicion on her face as she asked, “Have you met my kind before?”

Yeah, he just hadn’t realized it until now. No wonder he’d felt like half the world had been keeping secrets from him. They had. But not any longer. The rose-colored glasses lay shattered at his feet. “Cara…”

“Guys really do generally run at this point.” A faint line appeared between her brows. “Like I told you, fast.”

“You’ve told a lot of guys this spiel, huh?” Was that jealousy flaring in his gut? Sure felt like it.

“A few. Those who don’t run usually want me to prove that I’m a demon.”

“So you do your eye trick.”

Her lips tightened. “I can do more than that.”

Now he was curious. Kinda like those people who stopped and turned around when they saw car accidents. “Like what?”

“On any human male but you, I’d be able to hypnotize with just a word. Get you to do my complete bidding.”

Now Todd had to swallow to ease the dryness in his throat. And she didn’t think that made her fall into the “strong” category? “So why am I the lucky human?”

“Because you’re a latent psychic with more power than you realize.” A shrug. “You’ve got shields up in your mind that you don’t even know about.”

Now that was a load of shit. He wasn’t psychic. Never had been. “Nice try, baby, but if I were psychic, I would have won the lottery years ago and retired to Mexico.” How was he even having this conversation?

They’d been climaxing together minutes before. He’d wanted nothing more than to shove deep and hard into her tight sex and now—

Well, now he’d entered the twilight zone, and he’d very much like to leave, please.

“You’re not that kind of psychic.” He thought he heard her mutter, idiot, beneath her breath. His eyes narrowed. She continued, “You probably get feelings, don’t you? Little vibes of tension or fear just before you walk into a situation that’s dangerous as all hell. But you know before you walk in, don’t you?”

How did she know that?

“Some folks would call that instinct. A psychic edge. Whatever you want to name it, the fact is that your mind is stronger than others. You’ve got a gift, one most humans never get, and those that do have it, well, precious few understand just what in the world is going on when the edge kicks into play.”

“But you understand, right?”

“All of my kind have the edge. We were brought into this world with it, and we’ll leave with it.”

He didn’t want to talk about what fictional powers he may or not possess. Right then, he just wanted to focus on her. “So you usually do a hypnotic show, huh? No other tricks to prove that you’re a demon?” Though proof was really moot at this point, he still felt the driving need to keep pushing at her.

Because she’s just knocked my world right off its axis.

No, his jaw tightened. He couldn’t lie to himself right then. Colin had rocked his reality months ago. Cara had just broken the shaky peace he’d been living in since that night.

“I have a few other skills,” Cara admitted, somewhat grudgingly, he thought. She lifted her hand. A small plume of smoke appeared about two inches above her open palm. As he watched, the smoke thickened, and with a snap, a ball of flames burst in the air. Cara pulled back her hand, smiled at him, and tossed the fire straight toward him.

“Shit!”

He ducked. Felt the rush of fire. Looked up, saw the ball, spinning in the air, fire blazing gold and red.

Then it vanished.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

He wasn’t 100 percent certain he believed that. Especially since the top of his head felt singed.

“You pissed me off,” she said, lips twisting. “I shouldn’t have tossed that toward you.”

“Uh, yeah, you shouldn’t have tossed the ball of fire at my head.” Unbelievable.

His lover was a demon.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

A very sexy demon.

One who apparently had a very bad temper.

And gorgeous legs.

Ah, hell. “So what am I supposed to do now?” He really didn’t know.

No, actually, he did know one thing—with absolute certainly. He still wanted her.

“What do you want to do?” Was that hope flickering in her eyes?

He had to ask. “You feel, don’t you, Cara?”

She frowned.

“I mean, like me, like humans, you feel. Lust. Anger.” Oh, yes, he knew she felt anger. He had the burnt hair to prove it. “Love.”

A slow nod. “I can feel. Being a demon doesn’t mean I’m not a woman, Todd. I need. I hurt. I bleed. Just like anyone else.”

But with a few dangerous extras thrown in for spice. He rubbed his eyes. “Look, I’ve gotta have some time to think about this.” To figure out just what the hell was going to happen next.

Her face paled. “I see.”

That cold, stilted voice pissed him off. He dropped his hand and stalked toward her. Todd caught her arms and hauled her up against him. “No, I don’t think you see a damn thing.” She thought he was running, like those other fools she’d mentioned.

But he was no fool.

He kissed her, driving his tongue into her sweet mouth and growling his hunger.

Her fingers pressed against his shoulders.

He drank in her essence. Fought the growing hunger that roared inside him. “I have to get to the station,” he bit the words off against her lips. The tox screen was due in first thing this morning. He had a job to do and—

And he needed to think.

But he was not running.

He stepped away from her. “I’ll be back, Cara, tonight. We’ll finish this—” Whatever this was.

She just stared up at him, silent.

What was he supposed to say? The woman had just confessed that she was a demon, for Christ’s sake.

No wonder the sex had been so damn powerful with her. She wasn’t human.

Just like she’d told him in his dreams.

Oh, yeah, his dreams…they’d have to talk about those babies—and she would have to tell him just what the hell had really been happening when he touched her in his sleep.

Cara nodded. “I understand.” She shrugged, tried to look as if she didn’t care. Failed. “Do what you have to do.”

Damn if the stiffness in her shoulders didn’t make him feel guilty, when he was the wronged party. He hadn’t misled her about being human. “It’s the case, Cara. I have to check in by seven thirty. I’m supposed to be getting the tox screen in for House.” Okay, he probably shouldn’t have told her that. His big mouth was going to get him into trouble one of these days.

“Then you’d better hurry.”

No screaming. No yelling. No when-will-I-see-you again questions.

He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. Marched toward the gate on the side of the house. Hesitated. Shit—he had to go. He had to swing by his place, find a shirt with buttons. Then hurry his ass down to the station.

Todd pulled in a slow breath. “This isn’t finished.” He said the words without looking at her, because gazing at the woman was dangerous to his control.

“No.” The word drifted to him on the breath of the wind that feathered over his face. “It’s not.”

He’d be seeing his demon again, there was no question of that in his mind.

His right hand reached for the gate.

“It was real, you know.” Her voice stopped him cold. “Everything that happened between us was real. I wanted you, you wanted me. Just like humans. Only much better…”

Much better than anything he’d ever experienced before, that was certain.

“Remember that, when you’re away from me. Remember what we had when we were together, and stop thinking that you screwed a monster.”

His fury erupted. Todd spun around, hands fisted. “Damn it, I never—”

She was gone. Just the faintest trace of her soft lavender scent remained in the air.

“I never thought you were a monster,” he snarled, knowing that she couldn’t hear him. “That was your word, not mine.” He’d thought of her only as…

His.

Todd’s eyes squeezed shut. Hell, he’d known the woman was going to be trouble from that first glance, and he’d been so right about her.

Now what was he supposed to do?

Colin was bent over his desk, busily thumbing through files, when Todd walked into the bull pen. As usual, chaos reigned in the detectives’ world. Phones rang with shrill cries. Voices floated around the room as questions were tossed back and forth between the men and women who were guzzling black coffee and pushing the sleep from their eyes.

His home away from home.

Todd headed for this small desk, directly opposite his partner’s. He’d barely taken two steps when Colin’s head suddenly snapped up and his gaze zeroed in on him.

No damn way he heard me. Not with all this racket going on. Todd stared back at his partner, saw the slight flare of Colin’s nostrils, then the abrupt tightening of his jaw.

He knew what that telltale clenching signified. Colin was furious, and from the look on his face, that anger was directed straight at Todd.

A sigh broke from his lips. Okay. He was tired of the guy’s attitude. He’d put up with enough shit from Colin. It was time to clear the air once and for all—

“Have a good night, partner?” Colin murmured when Todd reached the desks.

His eyes narrowed. “Good enough.”

Colin glared at him. “You know you could be fucking up the case.”

He knew. Todd didn’t know how the cagey bastard knew, but Colin realized that Todd had spent the night with Cara. “She’s not a suspect anymore.”

Another flare of the guy’s nostrils. “You sure about that?”

Very deliberately, Todd placed his hands on top of the old, wooden desk and leaned in over Colin. “It wasn’t too long ago when you were screwing a suspect, too, buddy.”

“Emily was never a suspect! She was working with us and—”

“—and for a while she looked guilty as hell.” His hands shoved harder against the desktop.

“But she wasn’t!”

“Neither is Cara!” Not guilty of the murders, anyway, but—

“Gyth! Brooks!” The whiplash of Captain Danny McNeal’s voice cut through the fire of Todd’s anger. He glanced up, realizing too late that he and Colin hadn’t exactly been having a quiet conversation. Most of the eyes in the station were on them, particularly the glaring gray stare of the captain.

Shit.

“In my office,” McNeal growled, his completely bald scalp gleaming as he inclined his head toward the open door. “Now.”

Todd straightened. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

The wheels of Colin’s chair rattled as he shot to his feet.

They didn’t speak as they crossed the room to the captain’s office. Not really much to say at that point.

McNeal slammed the door shut behind them. Marched to his desk. He didn’t sit down. Just glared at them, tension evident in the thick muscles of his body.

Todd knew that Captain Danny McNeal had been with the Atlanta PD for over twenty years. The guy was in his early forties and in better shape than most of the men in the precinct. He ran every day, and could be routinely found in the PD’s gym, tossing cops over his shoulder and onto the cushioned blue mats.

The guy was a real hardass. Smart as a whip. And known for his fiery temper.

According to the rumors, he’d also been heavily involved with Smith at one time.

But, of course, those were just rumors, and Todd had never really been able to imagine the gorgeous doctor pairing up with the asshole cop.

Just didn’t fit for him.

“Are you going to fucking stare at me all day, Brooks, or are you going to tell me why the hell my best two detectives were yelling at each other like two twelve-year-old girls in the middle of my bull pen?”

Oh, damn. Todd winced. The first time he’d ever been compared to a twelve-year-old girl. “I lost my temper, Captain. Sorry.” He wasn’t going to point any fingers at Colin. Not his style.

McNeal grunted. “Well, learn to keep your damn temper in check! Understand, Brooks?”

“Yes, sir.” Though McNeal really needed to learn the same coping skill.

“I got the shit-for-brains mayor and the dumbass DA breathing down my neck right now, yelling about another serial killer being on our streets—I don’t need this crap from you two!”

“Understood.”

Another growl from deep in McNeal’s chest. “Is this partnership working?” He asked bluntly. “Do I need to reassign—”

“No,” Todd answered immediately, and saw Colin stiffen slightly from the corner of his eye.

“Hmm.” McNeal’s gaze shot to Colin. “What do you say?”

“There’s no problem with us, sir.”

“Just stupidity,” McNeal snapped, then finally dropped into his chair. “All right, screw it. You’ve been warned. Stop acting like fucking idiots and tell me the status on these damn cases.”

Todd had to fight the curve of his lips. McNeal was a tough bastard, but he respected the guy, and in other circumstances, he would have even called him a friend.

Instead, he called him boss.

And asshole—behind his back, anyway.

Colin cleared his throat. “Smith put a rush order on House’s toxicology screen—”

“And?”

“I just got the results.” A pause. “Negative. The guy’s system was clean.”

“Shit.” McNeal’s bushy brows snapped together. “So what’s the cause of death, then? How’s Smith calling him?”

Now Colin looked real uncomfortable. “Uh, Smith actually said she’d be down for a briefing on this and—”

“How’s she calling it?”

A light tap sounded on the captain’s door. “I’m busy!” McNeal yelled instantly. “What the hell? Does a closed door look like I want company?”

The closed door opened. Smith poked her head in, frowning. “I know you did not just yell at me.”

McNeal jumped to his feet. “Smith, I-I didn’t know it was you.” His voice seemed to drop, just an octave, so that it was no longer a bear growl. Something softer. More intimate.

Well, I’ll be damned. Todd studied the captain with barely contained curiosity. Maybe there was a bit of truth to those rumors about the guy and the ME.

Smith’s dark stare flashed to Colin. Held for just a few seconds as she said, “I told you I needed to be here for this meeting. I’m not going to be cut out of another case.”

“Neither am I,” Todd added at once, memories of the last serial killer swirling through his mind. The captain had put Colin in charge and basically sidelined Todd while his partner worked day and night with Dr. Drake.

No. Definitely not happening again. This time, the killer was his.

McNeal’s chin lifted. “It’s not a matter of cutting you out—either of you. It’s a matter of doing what’s best for the department.”

Bullshit.

Smith closed the door behind her. The two chairs in front of McNeal’s desk were empty. Todd stood just to the left of the chairs, while Colin was positioned near the back of the captain’s office, right beside an oversized green plant. A plant Todd wasn’t entirely convinced was real.

Smith crossed the room. Sat in the chair next to Todd. “What did I miss?”

McNeal stared down at her. “You all right?” He asked suddenly.

Todd saw her shoulders tighten. “Fine.”

He almost snorted. He had no idea the lady was such a lousy liar.

He could tell by the doubt on McNeal’s face that the captain knew she was lying, too.

But he didn’t push her, just sat back down in his chair, and said, “You didn’t miss much. Just discussing the tox screen.”

The tension in her shoulders eased a bit as she said, “Michael House wasn’t given any drugs. At least, not as far as I can tell.” She held up one hand, the fingers steady. “Now, I didn’t screen for everything—would have been damn impossible to screen for every drug. But I hit the main boys, every mix that I thought could do something like this.” A shake of her head. “He was clean.”

“So what’s the cause of death going to be?”

Her hand dropped. “At this point, the COD is going down as undetermined.”

Todd swore. “Smith, if it goes down like that—”

“Then you’re off the case,” McNeal finished. “Because as far as the mayor and DA are concerned, there will be no case.”

“I didn’t say the victim died of natural causes,” Smith pointed out quickly, her voice rising a bit.

“You might as well have.” Damn it, the guy had been murdered. Todd knew it in his gut. “What about the hand, Smith? That print on his chest?”

McNeal’s fist slammed down on the desk, hard. “What print?”

“It’s not a print.” Smith turned her head and glowered at him. “It’s not like I can scan the thing and get fingerprints.” She looked back at McNeal. “It’s just…an outline. Of a hand.”

“Right in the middle of Michael House’s chest,” Colin said quietly.

“It’s a bruise,” McNeal dismissed, fingers tapping now on the desktop. “Has to be. The assailant applied pressure to his chest and—”

“It’s certainly not what I’d call a normal bruise. Colin…” Smith pointed to McNeal. “Show him the pictures.”

Colin marched forward. Handed the case file to the captain.

“A normal bruise can appear after a vic’s death, but…” Smith rubbed her forehead. Todd snaked around the desk to get a better look at the pictures. “Bruises are generally of varying discolorations. This one is the exact same throughout. A perfect black outline. There aren’t pressure marks, no damage beneath the surface of the skin.”

She stood up, walked over, and shoved her hand at Todd’s chest, hard. He grunted under the impact.

“When I hit him, I used the ball of my hand. It gives the most force. Or,” another shove, “I can push him back with the tips of my fingers. Just…not with as much power” A faint smile tilted the corners of her full lips. “Sorry, Brooks.”

“Don’t be, Smith. He deserved it.” The rumble came from Colin.

Smith had once joked easily with Colin. They’d been good friends. Now, she seemed to shut down at the sound of his voice, her smile fading instantly.

“Neither of those hits would leave a mark like the one found on House.” Her hand fell away from Todd. “Even if the perp were over the vic, shoving him down into the bed, it would have been a ball-of-hand contact. There is no scenario I can think of that would leave that perfect outline of a person’s hand.”

“Ah, shit.” McNeal’s fingers rubbed over his eyes. “Smith, I wish you’d give me this information first. I’ve told you time and again there is chain of command here and—”

“I put the file in your box long before I gave a copy to Gyth.” She raised a brow. “Have you checked your box, Captain?”

“I’ve been here since four a.m., stuck in a damn three-and-a-half-hour emergency meeting with the mayor and DA,” he snapped. “So, no, Smith, I haven’t!”

“Well, next time, you should. Especially before you go growling at me about how to do my job! I know how to do my job!”

She was all but going across the desk at him as she nearly shouted her words, and the lady finally was acting like her old self.

McNeal leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“McNeal. Smith.” It was Colin’s steely voice that broke the tension in the room.

Their furious faces immediately turned toward him. Colin cleared his throat, then said, “Captain, as you pointed out to me and Brooks, we really don’t have time for this shit.”

Touché.

Smith drew in a deep breath. Took a few steps back, then slowly lowered her body into the chair. “Are you going to be able to exhume the other two bodies?”

A hard shake of McNeal’s head. “DA will never go for even trying on the order. Especially if House isn’t going down as a homicide.”

“I checked House’s body, thoroughly.” She shook her head. “The man shouldn’t have died.”

The captain’s gaze darted to Colin.

Todd tensed when his partner gave an almost imperceptible nod. What the hell?

McNeal peered down at the files again. “Well, at least we damn well know the last vic—what was his name?”

“Thomas Monroe,” Todd supplied.

“Yeah, well, at least we know Monroe was murdered. Turn your focus onto him.”

They had been focusing on him, and the other dead men who kept turning up. “There were no prints on the knife, but we did retrieve a hair from the mattress.” A long strand of blond hair, and that fit because, “The desk clerk said a blond was there with Monroe.” Just like a blond had been in the other hotels with the other dead men.

But why the change in MO? It made no sense. If the perp was the same, why change methods now? Why change them at all?

“The press has gotten wind of the link in the murders.” Colin’s voice was quiet, tense. “That new reporter for News Flash Five, Holly Storm—”

So now he remembered her name.

“—she was at the House scene, too. Must’ve gotten there after we left. She talked to the desk clerk. Found out about the bondage, and now she knows about Monroe.”

“I saw the damn story at five last night,” McNeal muttered. “Shit. ‘The cops aren’t talking, but rumors of the Bondage Killer are rampant on the streets…’ Hell. Like I needed that crap from her now.”

Todd winced. He’d also caught the redhead’s story, just like nearly every other person in the city.

Holly Storm had finally made her big splash on News Flash Five.

“Damn straight the cops aren’t talking.” McNeal rapped his fingers on the surface of the desk. “My team doesn’t talk.”

Well, there wasn’t exactly much to be talking about.

“All right. Here’s how this is going to be handled.” He stabbed a blunt finger in the air toward Todd. “You start digging into Monroe’s life. See what you can find out about any girlfriends, people with an ax to grind, whatever.”

He’d already been doing that. It wasn’t like he was a fresh-faced uniform who didn’t know how to handle a case.

The finger stabbed in Smith’s direction. “I want the completed autopsy report on Monroe ASAP.”

“Is there any sign of a print on his chest yet?” Todd asked quickly.

She shook her head. “The killer did a real number on his chest. Seventeen knife wounds.”

Now that was a lot of rage.

Usually that much rage was personal.

“Finish the autopsy. Get me the report.” McNeal’s gaze shot to Colin. “You talked to Dr. Drake about this case?”

“Last night.”

“Good.” He waved his hand toward the door. “That’s all—Smith, Brooks, you two can brief me later on your findings. Gyth, stay so we can talk.”

Smith opened her mouth as if to protest. Then she shook her head and mumbled, “I don’t think I want to hear this, anyway.” Then she marched for the door, head held high.

McNeal’s gaze followed her, and his lips pulled down into a small frown.

The door closed behind her with a soft click. No slam. No sign of fury.

But Todd knew she was angry.

Smith didn’t like being cut out of a case.

Neither did he.

But, unlike Smith, he wasn’t just planning to quietly walk out with his dignity.

Fuck dignity.

This was his case. He wasn’t going to be pushed to the wayside again. He was a good cop, damn it. He’d busted his ass for years on the force. Taken two bullets. Back when he’d been on beat, he’d even gotten one of the highest arrest rates on record for the city.

“That’s all for now, Brooks,” McNeal said gruffly. “I’ll update you on Dr. Drake’s findings later.”

Todd didn’t move. “I think I’ll just listen now. Save you from having to rehash it all later.”

McNeal blinked. “I said that’s all, Brooks.”

A clear dismissal.

He was tired of being dismissed, and after the morning he’d already had, he wasn’t about to back down.

My lover is a demon. I don’t really think these guys can surprise me with anything else after learning that fun fact.

Todd cast a glance at Colin. Found his partner watching him with a tense, worried expression. “After I talk to the captain, I’ll come and brief you,” Colin told him, voice quiet, but his eyes seemed to blaze a warning.

Colin was trying to save his ass, Todd realized. Going toe-to-toe with the captain probably wasn’t a good idea. Colin obviously thought it wasn’t, and now his partner was trying to smooth things over.

Pity he wasn’t in the mood for a nice, polite smoothing. He turned his attention back to the captain. “What don’t you want me to know about this case?”

McNeal smiled. A shark’s smile. “Oh, come on, now, Brooks, don’t be ridiculous! You’re completely in the loop on this case—”

And hell wasn’t hot.

“—I just thought your time would be better spent following other leads—”

“Like with the Night Butcher?” He tossed out.

The smile dimmed. “I don’t like your tone, Detective.”

“And I don’t like being kept in the dark.” He began to pace, unable to contain the swirling energy in his body. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m only catching half of the things happening in this precinct.” In the world. “I’m good at my job. Got enough commendations to plaster the damn wall at my apartment.” He stopped, right next to Colin. “I deserve to know what’s happening.”

“You don’t really want to know.” Colin’s voice.

He turn his head fractionally, just enough to meet his hard stare. “What don’t I want to know, partner? That this world of ours is fucking full of monsters? And that you’re one of them?”