Midnight Sins

Smith flinched. “You’re an asshole, Gyth.”



Todd’s eyes widened. Okay, yeah, he had his problems with the guy, but fur notwithstanding, Colin was his partner. And Todd took his loyalties seriously. Maybe too seriously. “Ah, Smith, the guy did save your life.”



She never glanced his way. “You don’t understand what’s happening, Brooks.”



Maybe. Maybe not. “Then why don’t you clue me in?”



Her lips tightened.



Fuck. “I thought so. Colin, let’s get the hell out of here.” He tucked the file under his arm. “You’ve got issues, Smith. Go see Dr.



Drake. We need you back to your old self.”



She swallowed. “I’ll never be that woman again, Detective. All the therapy in the world won’t bring her back.”



“How do you know? Letting someone else inside your head could be the best thing you’ve ever done.” He strode to the door.



Shoved it open, but didn’t exit. Not the sympathy kind, but too damn bad. He liked the woman, respected her, and wasn’t going to watch her spiral. “I’m worried about you, Smith.” And he was. She was too intense. Too high strung. And holding rage that was all but seeping from her pores. “Get some help. Go see Dr. Drake.”



Emily Drake was, after all, the best in town.



The late-afternoon sunlight trickled through the blinds as Cara lay on the soft leather couch. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to figure out just what she should say.



Ah, hell, just get it over with. “I’ve met someone.”



Dr. Emily Drake, known to her clients as the Monster Doctor, and currently the only psychologist in the South to knowingly treat the Other, slowly lifted her head. “Tell me about him.”



Cara licked her lips. “He’s a cop.” Damn. Hadn’t she heard somewhere that the Monster Doctor was dating a cop? What if the guys knew each other?



“I see.” A delicate pause. “And does he know what you are?” The doctor’s pen was poised an inch above her notepad.



Turning her head slightly, Cara let her gaze fall on the doctor. As usual, Dr. Drake’s black hair was pulled back into a severe bun.



Her thin, wire-framed glasses were perched on the edge of her nose. And her green gaze was trained on Cara. “Does he know?”



Cara repeated the question softly, then shook her head. “No, even though I’ve…dreamwalked with him.”



The pen skittered across the paper as Dr. Drake jotted down a quick note.



“I didn’t mean to,” Cara said at once, then winced. Even though the doctor’s expression hadn’t changed, she still felt the need to explain herself. To justify stealing into a man’s thoughts. “I swear, Dr. Drake, I never meant to join him in dreams.”



“Then why did you?”



If she couldn’t be honest here, in the safety of Dr. Drake’s quiet office, she couldn’t be honest anywhere. “I want him.” The want was a gnawing ache inside of her. An ache that grew worse every moment.



“It’s all right to desire a man, Cara. We’ve been over this before.”



No, this was far different from the men before. “I-I gave up sex.” Said in a rush.



Dr. Drake’s eyes widened and her pen stilled. “Cara, you know you can’t do that. It’ll kill you.”



“No, I don’t think”— okay, she hoped—“that it will. I’ve got an arrangement with a friend. He has this place for the Other. I’ve been singing there for a while. When I’m on stage and have the focus of the crowd, I can the pull their sensual energy to me.”



“But will that be enough for you?”



“I don’t know, it seems to be working so far. I mean, it’s not like there are a lot of succubi around here that I can ask if I’ll be able to survive—”



“No,” Dr. Drake’s quiet voice cut straight through her words. “That’s not what I meant.” She put the notepad facedown. Leaned forward. “Your kind exist for sex. It renews you. Powers you. I don’t know if the situation you have will keep working for you, though it’s certainly a novel approach for a succubus,” she murmured. “But is it enough for you? Are you happy stealing wisps of pleasure, or do you want your own release?”



Her own. Her lips pressed together to keep the words back, but she knew when Dr. Drake lifted one brow that the psychologist understood.



“And you want it with him, don’t you?”



Hell, yes. She wanted sex with her cop so badly that she was losing control of the demon inside and slipping into Todd’s mind. “I can’t control him.” Or herself. “I can dreamwalk with him, but I can’t compel him, not when he’s awake. No hypnosis, no—”



“Control is important to you, isn’t it?” She eased back in her chair, casually reached for her pad once more.



“Yes.”



“Because of what happened before? When you weren’t able to stop your sister’s murder?”



Ah, damn, but she hadn’t even seen that one coming. Leave it to good old Dr. Drake to knock her right between the eyes. “Yes.”



A jealous lover. A human lover had killed her sister. A man who had managed to learn far too much about her kind, and the weaknesses that demons possessed.



Nina. It hurt too much to think of her now, even years later. Her twin. The only other being who’d ever truly loved her. Who’d understood her. Inside and out.



Killed by that bastard.



She’d made certain he got exactly what he deserved. Sometimes, she could still hear his screams.



She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She wasn’t going back there, not now.



All humans weren’t evil. She knew that. Had long ago come to terms with the fact that monsters resided in men, just as good spirits, good souls, could reside in the bodies of monsters.



Such was the way of her world.



“Do you think that because you can’t control him that this man might one day betray you?”



“I don’t know. Maybe.” The guy had suspected her of murder and he’d sure been quick to haul her off to jail.



“You came to me in the beginning because you were tired of puppets. Tired of men who turned away from you the moment you stopped using glamour and magic.”



Her nails dug into the cushions of the couch. “Yes.”



“But now, you have a man you can’t control, one who certainly won’t be a puppet. You want him. Tell me, does he want you?”



She could still taste his hunger. “Yes.”



“Then you’re going to have a choice to make, Cara. You can keep living this new life you’ve made for yourself…”



The life without sex. Stolen pleasures. Empty nights.



“Or you can take a risk with a man beyond your control.”



She pictured Todd in her mind. Dark hair. Sculpted jaw. The chest she’d yet to kiss. The cock she wanted to taste.



Beyond her control.



She’d be vulnerable with him. And if he learned her secret, he could destroy her.



But demons didn’t exactly have a reputation for playing it safe. She’d been trying, but it had been hell.



Though she liked to pretend that the demon and the woman were really two separate parts of her, the truth was, deep down, she was all demon.



The demon, well, she wasn’t afraid of a risk, and she was very, very hungry for her pleasure.



A pleasure only to be had with one man.



A man beyond her control, but easily within her reach.



If she just dared to reach for him.



The demon decided she’d dare. Oh, yes. She would.



“Is the city in the clutches of another killer, one who preys on the sexual fantasies of men? The cops aren’t talking, but rumors of the Bondage Killer are rampant on the streets…”



The reporter’s words stopped the killer cold. He turned around slowly, his gaze jumping to the television screen. He listened to her, stunned…and enraged.



Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.



Fury nearly choked him when the redheaded bitch said she was broadcasting live from the Dayton Hotel, “the scene of a brutal murder.”



But not his kill.



“A body was discovered here last night. A male body. The man was naked, and he’d been bound to the bed.”



Oh, hell, no.



Not his.



The reporter’s eyes seemed to bore into his as he glared at the screen. She lifted her microphone. “Tune in later tonight for more details on this savage crime. Until then, this is Holly Storm for News Flash Five, signing off.”



His fingers slammed onto the top of the remote and instantly, the TV screen went black.



Not his.



He threw the remote against the wall.



This wasn’t part of the plan. No one should have died at the Dayton Hotel.



Fuck.



His fingers shook. His ears rang. And his control began to shatter.



He knew exactly who was trying to take over his game.



Not gonna happen. No one was gonna to screw with his plans. He’d waited far too long for his vengeance. Planned far too carefully.



A bitch wasn’t gonna steal his power.



Time for the game to change. Time for a solo act. Time for more death.



With the next kill, he would be the one to steal the victim’s life away.



No matter how much she begged…



Chapter 6



He was watching her again.



That night, Cara stood on the stage, feeling the swirls of magic and power around her. Desire beat in time with the music of the band. Driving higher and higher in the crowd, and in her own body.



Todd was in Paradise. She hadn’t looked at him yet, but she could feel his dark gaze on her body and pleasure filled her.



He’d come for her.



Slowly, she began to shift her attention around the room. Singing softly, the blues carried in the air as she voiced the old lyrics.



There. He was at the bar. Staring up at her. Face hard. One hand wrapped around a shot glass. He was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt.



She wanted him naked.



She was tired of pretending to be good.



Tired of fighting the need and hunger.



No more.



Giving up sex just really hadn’t worked out so well for her. One temptation, one very strong temptation, and she’d been screwed.



The song finished on a long, deep note. She drank in the energy, inhaling deeply as she bowed briefly to the crowd.



Not enough. Tonight she needed so much more.



And she’d have it.



She replaced the microphone. Nodded to the band. Moved easily across the stage, her skirt swirling around the top of her thighs as she walked. When she lifted her hand to the stair railing, she saw the faint glow on her skin. She wondered if Todd would notice it. Hoped that he didn’t, because she didn’t want to give explanations this night.



She just wanted to give pleasure—and take her own.



She felt other stares on her as she sauntered across the room. One man even reached out and touched her shoulder, but Cara froze him with a look.



There was only one guy in the bar who interested her, and he was the one she was going to claim.



Todd’s gaze never left her as she drew closer. He lifted the whiskey. Drained it in one fast gulp right before she reached him. The glass clattered against the bar.



“Hello, Detective.” She thought about asking him how the case was going. She’d heard talk in the bar about a body being found at the Dayton Hotel. She wondered if the murder was connected to the others.



“Cara.”



It was the way he said her name that got to her. Hunger. Lust. Tenderness.



She decided not to ask about the case. She didn’t want to hear about another poor soul who had been killed, not then. She wanted the few hours of the remaining night to belong only to the two of them.



These precious hours just after midnight. Playtime for the Other.



“You were good tonight.”



She motioned for Cameron to bring her usual drink. The sweet, ice-cold brew that she sipped after each performance. “Thanks.”



Tonight, she’d been singing just for him. Had he noticed?



Cameron put the drink on the bar. Narrowed his eyes on her. Screw him. She neither wanted nor needed his approval. Hell, she never gave him a hard time when he hooked up with human women.



Cameron’s lips tightened when he caught her cold stare, but then he backed away. “Your choice.” The words were whisper soft.



“Thanks, Cameron.” And, yeah, it was her choice.



Or rather, Todd was her choice.



Cara leaned over the good detective, deliberately rubbing her body against his as she reached for her drink. She liked the way he smelled . The fresh scent of soap. A hint of aftershave. Man.



“We need to talk,” he told her, and his voice was harder than before. His hands lifted, caught her just above her elbows.



She took one slow sip from her drink. The icy liquid eased down her throat. Cara licked her lips and noticed the slight widening of his nostrils. He was catching her pheromones again. He knew the scent was richer, knew something was happening. She could see it in his eyes.



See the same hard lust she felt.



“We are talking,” she told him, wondering what his next move would be. She was putting on a bold front with him now, but the truth was, she was nervous as hell inside. If she had sex with him, if she gave in to her instincts, it wouldn’t just be about fun and games and a rush of sweet, sensual power.



You have a man you can’t control. Dr. Drake’s words echoed in her mind.



“You’re different tonight.” His hold tightened.



Yes. “Why did you come back, Detective?”



“Todd.” A pause. “I like it when you say my name.”