Midnight's Master. Cynthia Eden

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СКАЧАТЬ a moment, the image of the van flashed before her eyes. She saw the gleaming hood, the tinted windows—and the van, aiming right for her. Swerving, not to miss her, but to hit her. “No,” her voice was soft. “I don’t.”

      “You were working the case.” Not a question. “Following up on that dead kid.” A rumble rolled from his throat. Animalistic. Dark. “I told you to drop this—”

      “I told you I was doing my job, with or without your help.” Her hands fisted on her hips and she ignored the twinge that shot from her right wrist. “I got the impression that you didn’t give a damn what happened to me.”

      He stalked toward her. “Oh, I care—” Niol reached for her.

      The doorbell rang. The peal echoed, breaking through Niol’s words.

      His eyes narrowed. “You expecting someone?”

      Not this late. “No.” She stepped forward.

      He grabbed her hand. “Wait.”

      The door shook as a furious fist pounded against the frame.

      Niol’s fingers tightened around her. “I’ll get it.”

      “No, don’t—”

      But he was already striding back across the room. Curling his fingers around the doorknob. Holly hurried after him, aware of a tension in her gut, one that had nothing to do with her mixed-up sexual hunger for Niol. One that felt a lot like the heavy pull of fear.

      The door frame shook again.

      Niol wrenched open the door—

      “What the hell are you doing here?”

      The stunned question came from the last man she’d expected to find at her door.

      Holly pushed to Niol’s side. Police Detective Colin Gyth and his partner, Todd Brooks, stood waiting, both glaring at Niol.

      Niol didn’t bother answering Gyth. He just crossed his arms over his chest and gazed back, as calm as you please, at the detectives.

      Holly cleared her throat and tried to figure out why two of the city’s best detectives were outside her home in the middle of the night.

      Maybe Niol had tripped her alarm after all, maybe—

      “Ms. Storm.” Detective Brooks finally tore his stare from Niol and cast a frown of concern toward her. “Are you all right?”

      He’d been on the scene after the hit-and-run. He’d had the same worried look in his brown eyes then, too.

      Holly cleared her throat. “I’m, ah, fine. There must be some sort of—of mistake.” She reached for Niol’s hand and curled her fingers over his. The demon was gonna owe her. “My alarm just—”

      “We’re not here about an alarm.” Worry wasn’t in Colin’s crystal-blue stare. Suspicion was.

      “Oh.” Holly tried to ease her hand away from Niol and realized that she wasn’t about to escape his now steely grip. “Then just why are you here, detectives?”

      Gyth glared at Niol. “We need to talk alone, Ms. Storm—”

      Niol gave a husky laugh, then said, “Not gonna happen, shifter.”

      Shifter. Holly almost choked. Talk about not being subtle.

      Gyth’s glare burned even hotter.

      “Say whatever you need to, then get the hell out of here.” Niol lifted Holly’s hand. Kissed the top of her knuckles. “You’re interrupting.”

      Brooks swore. “Thought you’d have better taste, Storm.”

      Gyth grunted. “Yeah, well, demon…” Uh, oh, looked like the gloves were off. The shifter detective pushed back his coat, exposing the badge that was hooked to his belt and revealing the butt of his gun. “Murder has a way of interrupting things.”

      “Murder?” Holly stood straighter. “Is this about Carl? Have you found out who attacked him?”

      “We’re not here about Bronx.” From Brooks. A pause, then, “Ms. Storm, do you know why Sam Miters would have been in possession of your business card?”

      Sam. Holly’s face iced over, then prickles of heat seemed to burst from her flesh. She knew the score and the foreboding that swept over her at the cop’s question had her swaying.

      “Yes, I-I know. He’s a—” Source. Informant. Friend. Holly exhaled, aware that Niol had slanted her a quick, searching glance. She cleared her throat and met Brooks’s stare. “What’s happened to him?” But she knew, dammit, she knew even before Gyth said—

      “Why don’t you come downtown with us? We’re gonna need you to identify the body…”

      Chapter 4

      Cops weren’t exactly his friends. Never had been. Maybe because they looked at him and saw him for what he was.

      A killer.

      Niol tightened his grip on Holly’s arm as they headed toward the morgue. The scent of death was too strong down here, stopping up his nostrils with the cloying odor.

      Holly was stiff beside him, her movements like those of a robot. She’d trembled when that shifter ass Gyth had told her about the body. One long, rolling tremble from head to toe. She’d said the poor bastard’s name, “Sam,” with a kind of wild despair.

      Then she’d gotten control of herself—fast. Probably too damn fast. Now he saw a woman with a taut body. Expressionless face. Ice-cold hands.

      He knew the name the cops had tossed out, of course. Sam Miters. Demon, level-seven. Niol made a habit of knowing all the demons in his city. Just for the sake of good business.

      Unstable as all hell and an addict—old Sam had been an accident waiting to happen.

      “You don’t need to come inside the viewing room,” Gyth said.

      Niol grunted. The detective didn’t want him inside, but he didn’t give a damn.

      Another demon had fallen on his streets. Niol wanted to see the body.

      “I-I want him with me.” Holly’s voice, cool and hollow.

      The lady was shaken. Two murders and an attempt on her own life, all within two short days. Yes, she had reason to be nervous.

      Should have listened to me. Now hell’s coming down on her.

      She looked up at him with those glittering green eyes. So green. Humans thought eyes were the window to the soul. They were wrong. As usual. Eyes lied.

      Hers were lying now. She was trying to look strong and in control, when he knew she was close to breaking apart.

      His left hand lifted and shoved open the door. СКАЧАТЬ