“Don’t tease me,” he growled.

She released his finger. Heady power filled her. It was the kind of sensual power she’d never felt—until Colin. He made her feel beautiful, sexual.

Wanted.

She wasn’t a freak with him. She didn’t have to choose her words for fear he’d discover her secret. She didn’t have to pretend with him. She could just…be.

Her fingers trailed over his chest. Found his nipples. Rubbed. “Who said I was teasing?” His cock pressed against her belly, fully aroused, easily thicker than her wrist.

She bent her head, let the water rush down her back, and took his nipple into her mouth.

His fingers tangled in her hair, held her closer. She heard him suck in a sharp breath.

Keeping her mouth on him, her fingers slipped down to his groin. Found the hard length of his arousal. Wrapped around him, squeezed.

Oh God, but she couldn’t wait to feel that cock in her, driving deep, filling every inch of her sex.

Colin pulled lightly on her hair, forcing her head to lift. His mouth locked onto hers, his tongue sweeping inside, claiming her.

He spun around, pinned her against the smooth tile. His fingers dipped into the dark curls at her sex. Parted her folds and plunged inside.

Oh yes! Her hips ground against his hand. Her mouth jerked away from his and she hoarsely demanded, “Colin, more!” He knew just how to touch her. Knew where to press, where to stroke, where to—

He pushed three fingers inside of her. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Her sex trembled around him.

“You’re so damn sexy,” he growled, licking his way down her neck. “Every time I see you, I want to take you.”

Her hips twisted against him, jerked. He was holding his fingers still now. The pressure was maddening. She needed him to move, to—

He pulled his hand away and Emily moaned in protest.

Colin laughed, but the sound was strained. “It’s all right, baby, I’ll give you what you need.”

His hands locked on her waist. Lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Damn, but she’d forgotten just how strong he was. Shifter strength.

Her legs curled around his hips. The head of his cock nudged her entrance.

Then he drove deep inside, lodging his cock balls deep in her sheath.

Her sex clamped down on him, and she squeezed him, loving the feel of his flesh inside her.

He was moving then. Pulling back. Thrusting deep. Again and again.

Her hands rose to his shoulders, gripped the slick flesh.

His mouth captured her breast and his tongue swirled over her nipple.

His hips slammed into her. Withdrew, plunged.

And his mouth, oh, his mouth—

His fingers edged between their bodies. He found her clit, pressed with his thumb.

She came, her sex contracting as a powerful orgasm shot through her.

Colin lifted his head, watched her. “Damn, I love it when you come.” Another thrust. “You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” And then he was shuddering against her, his own climax claiming him.

When the waves of pleasure finally stopped, Emily didn’t move. Her back felt bruised, sore from contact with the tile, but she didn’t really care.

Her fingers stroked the back of Colin’s neck.

He kissed her shoulder and held her.

Terrace Lane was one of those quiet, unassuming little streets that looked like it belonged on a greeting card. Perfectly groomed lawns. Large, brick houses. Neat little sidewalks. Cute kids playing in the yards.

The neighborhood made him tense. He didn’t belong there. Wasn’t part of that picture-perfect world.

And neither was the doc.

How had she felt, he wondered, growing up there? She’d been seeing demons and vampires, and the other kids had been playing basketball and hopscotch.

She’d never fit in. And neither had he.

“All right. Donna Tillman, the neighbor on the right”—Brooks lifted his notebook and pointed to a house with a large bay window—“said she saw Dr. Drake arrive a little after seven-thirty last night.”

Colin grunted. It was the same story he’d gotten from Tom Henry, the neighbor on the left. “She sure about the time?”

“Yeah, said she was taking out her garbage when she saw her.” Brooks turned his attention to 2801 Terrace Lane. “Mrs. Tillman thought it was real odd, too, because apparently, Dr. Drake never comes to visit, and when she did get here, she stayed in the car for about fifteen minutes before she went inside.”

He was sure that the helpful Mrs. Tillman had been peering through her window that entire time, so she probably had an exact count on those minutes. “They’ve confirmed her alibi.”

Brooks lifted a brow. “Neither of them remember when she left.”

“Then let’s go ask the mother.” And Colin had to admit that he was curious about Emily’s mom. The schoolteacher. The woman who’d sent her daughter to Serenity Woods.

They rang her doorbell, and the soft peal echoed back to them. A moment later, the door was opened and a small, delicate woman with short black hair and wide green eyes peered up at them. “Yes?”

Colin pulled out his badge. “Atlanta PD. I’m Detective Colin Gyth, and this is my partner, Todd Brooks.”

Her fingers curled around the side of the door. Turned white. “Wh-what do you want?”

Brooks flashed her a smile. “We just have a few questions to ask you, ma’am.”

Her eyes darted between them. “About what?”

“About your daughter, Emily Drake.”

Colin saw her flinch.

Not the reaction he’d been expecting.

Brooks stepped forward, charming smile still in place. “Why don’t we go inside and discuss this?”

As often happens, Mrs. Drake stumbled back, opening the door as she moved. “But I don’t know what you want to discuss!”

Brooks walked into her foyer. “We told you. Emily.”

Colin followed them inside, his glance sweeping over the spotlessly clean house. Emily’s mother led them into a large den. There were no photos on the mantel, he noted. No photos anywhere.

“Wh-what do you want to know about Emily?” She’d crossed her arms over her chest and she lifted her chin, a gesture so like Emily’s that Colin almost smiled.

“Was she here last night, Mrs. Drake—or actually, can we call you Karen?” Another of Brooks’s tricks—make the witnesses feel comfortable, get ’em on a first-name basis and get ’em talking.

“What? Oh, yes, Karen’s fine.” She frowned. “And, ah, yes, Emily was here last night.” Her eyes widened in sudden worry.

“Nothing’s happened, has it? Emily—”

“She’s fine,” Colin told her instantly. “We’re just following up, asking some questions on a case we’re working.”

“Oh.”

Did she sound disappointed? His stare sharpened. “How long was Emily here?”

“An hour, maybe two.” Karen shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t looking at a clock.”

The grandfather clock behind them chimed.

Brooks and Colin stared at each other a moment. “It would really help us if you could be more specific, Karen,” Brooks murmured.

“Fine.” She huffed out a breath. “Emeline arrived a little after seven and she stayed until around ten-thirty.”

“And why did Emily come visit you?” Colin asked blandly. Was it because you sold her out to a reporter and Emily told you to stop talking to the press?

“She’s my daughter. She doesn’t need to have a reason to visit.” Her words were a little too high.

“I see.” Actually, he didn’t. “So you and Em had a nice little mother–daughter visit last night?”

Her head tilted to the right. Her lips parted on a breath of surprise as she studied him. “You know my daughter?”

Ah, shit. Not the way he’d wanted the introductions to go. “Umm, yeah. She’s actually working on a case with us. As a profiler.”

All of the emotion vanished from her face. “Really.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop about ten degrees.

What in the hell?

“Why are you asking me these questions?” Her stare returned to Brooks. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to get an alibi for my daughter.”

Well, yeah, that was exactly what they were trying to do.

Brooks kept his smile in place. “Karen, what can you tell me about Serenity Woods?”

She took a step back. “S-serenity Woods?”

He nodded.

And that chin shot into the air again. “I think I’ve answered enough questions. You should leave now.”

His friendly smile faded. “There are records we can check, you know.”

“No,” she said very definitely, “there aren’t.”

She walked back to the foyer. Opened the front door. “Good-bye, Detectives.”

Hmmm. She’d talked to them longer than he’d thought. Colin caught his partner’s eye, shrugged. He’d known Karen Drake would back up her daughter’s alibi, but he’d gone along with the investigation anyway. If he hadn’t followed up on Emily’s story, Brooks would have become even more suspicious and he might have started spreading some of his bullshit suspicions around the station.

And that was something Colin couldn’t let happen.

Brooks left first, nodding politely to Karen Drake as he passed. Colin inclined his head as he walked by her.

“You’re involved with my daughter, aren’t you?” Her voice was hushed. Her gaze hooded.

“We work together, I told you that.”

She shook her head. “You called her Em. And I could tell by your voice—”

Shit. He’d have to be a hell of a lot more careful in the future. But, wait, dammit, maybe she hadn’t picked up on anything in his speech, maybe she sensed the truth. Maybe she was just like her daughter.

Colin was instantly on full alert. He’d underestimated Karen Drake. He needed to be on guard with her.

Brooks had walked down the sidewalk. He glanced back, frowning.

“Be careful, Detective,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper. “You may think you know my daughter, but believe me, you don’t.”

He clenched his back teeth to hold back the not-so-polite response that sprang to his lips.

Karen shook her head sadly. “Emily is very…different.”

Different was too tame a word for the doc. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You don’t understand.” She leaned forward, staring straight into his eyes. “Emily is—”

“Is there a problem?” Brooks called, moving back toward them.

Emily’s mother straightened with a quick snap. Her lips firmed into a thin line.

“No,” Colin told him, “I’ll be right there.” He was suddenly very eager to get away from the picturesque house on Terrace Lane.

“She’s evil.” Karen breathed the words, and Colin saw a tear track from the corner of her eye. “Remember that, and don’t trust her. ”

Then she turned and fled back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter 13

“We have a problem.” Smith was waiting for them when they returned to the station. She’d made herself comfortable at Brooks’s desk, and when they approached her, she swiveled around to face them, tapping a manila file against her desk.

“Yeah, and how is that new?” Brooks reached for the file. “This the report on those hairs you found on Myers?”

Colin glanced across the pen, saw McNeal making a beeline for them. “Has the captain read the file?”

Her lips turned down. “Not yet. I’ll see him—”

“Now,” McNeal finished, appearing at her side. “I told you, I wanted all data on this case given to me first.” His shoulders were stiff as he loomed over her.

Smith didn’t look particularly intimidated. She shrugged. “Procedure is for me to report to the lead detectives.”

McNeal wrapped his hands around the arms of the chair. Leaned in close. “I gave you an order, Smith. It’s not personal, but it sure as hell will be if you don’t start doing exactly what I say on this case.” He stared into her eyes a heartbeat of time, then softly said,

“Are we clear now?”

“Oh yeah, Captain, we’re clear.” The Arctic had to be warmer than she was right then.

McNeal sighed and stepped back. “All of you, in my office, now.”

Brooks and Smith looked surprised by the order as they moved to obey, but Colin knew what McNeal was thinking. If there was anything abnormal—as in Other abnormal—he didn’t want the rest of the station hearing about it then.

A few moments later, McNeal closed the door behind them with a soft click. “I’ll take the file.”

Brooks tossed it to him. McNeal flipped it open, read quickly, a furrow appearing between his eyes. “Unrecognizable? Not human? What the hell? Did the evidence get contaminated?”

Smith stiffened. Her entire body seemed to turn to stone before Colin’s eyes. “My evidence is good.”

Yeah, and he and McNeal both knew it.

McNeal scanned the file again. “Canis lupus—what is that, some kind of dog?”

“No,” Smith told him, biting out the word. “It’s a wolf, a gray wolf.”

“You’re saying a gray wolf attacked Myers?” Brooks asked, peering over McNeal’s shoulder to get a better look at the file.

“No, I’m not saying that.” She began to pace in front of them. “The analysis couldn’t match up the hair that I found on Myers, not completely.”