The Novel Free

Midnight Sins





McNeal’s eyes rose, then pinned Todd in his chair. “And she’s gonna keep quiet?”



He hoped. “I think so.” The woman had been shell-shocked, but before the ambulance attendants loaded her up, she’d grabbed his hand and told him, voice hoarse from the fire and Cameron’s powerful grip, “You’re right. No one’s ready for this.”



“And the two uniforms?” McNeal demanded. “Billy Mane and Tyler Johnson? They’re both backing up the story about the fire?”



With a little help from Cara. “Yes.”



McNeal grunted.



“Todd secured the scene,” Colin said. “He did the damn best he could under the circumstances and—”



“Hell, stop defending him, Gyth.” McNeal closed the report with a snap. “I know he secured the scene the only way he could.”



Hmm. Nice of Colin to back him up. Maybe he’d finally forgiven him for the whole your-lover-might-be-a-killer thing.



The bastard should have forgiven him—Todd wasn’t holding a grudge against Colin for suspecting Cara. Mostly because he’d thought she was guilty in the beginning, too.



They were both idiots.



But it looked like they’d officially gotten past the twisted shit in their lives and gone back to being a team again.



“I just want to know,” McNeal growled, “if Brooks here thinks that bastard Niol was involved in the torching.” His lips pursed.



“’Cause that part wasn’t in this neat little report.”



“Sir.” He kept his voice calm. “This is the report that you want presented to the DA and the mayor, correct?”



Another grunt.



“The report tells, clearly, that when I entered the alley, I discovered Cameron Komak, burning. I tried to put out the flames.



Several other witnesses”—that would be Niol, Cara, and Holly Storm—“soon entered the alley. The police were notified.



Unfortunately, the heat from the flames was so intense that Cameron died on scene.”



“And when I went to Cameron Komak’s house after I was informed of the incident,” Gyth picked up the story with barely a pause,



“I found undeniable evidence to link him to the killings of Simon Battle, Travis Walters, Michael House, and Susan Dobbs.” Now, that part was actually true. The guy had made a whole fucking wall in his place dedicated to the crimes. He’d had clothing belonging to the victims, photos—a fucking sick shrine.



Gyth shook his head. “The man apparently had an obsession with Cara Maloan, and in his twisted mind, he was punishing Cara by attacking the men who showed interest in her.”



“And framing her for their deaths, right.” A hard exhalation of air from McNeal “Nice little package you’ve got for me.” He leaned back in his chair. “Nice pretty bow you put on the case.”



Todd’s shoulders stiffened. “Komak was the one who tied things up with that damn wall.” He’d gone to the apartment after Gyth had notified him and seen it for himself— fucking insane.



“This report will be fine for the mayor and the DA and any of those other vulture reporters who want info on the case.” McNeal picked up a pen, began to tap it casually against the desktop. “But you left out a few details…like, oh, say, just how the hell did Cameron Komak catch on fire?”



He pissed off a demon. Todd didn’t speak those words, because he didn’t have proof. He had a suspicion that went straight to his soul, but there was no way anyone would ever be able to prove Niol’s involvement. “We don’t know how the fire started. Smith’s looking at the body. She’ll be in soon to brief you on what she’s got.”



“And what about his alibis? They checked out and—”



“The alibis were given by humans,” Colin reminded him.



“And Komak planted the memories in their heads,” Todd said. “They never actually saw him those nights—he just used his demon power,” which was pretty damn scary, “to make them think they had.”



“Hell.” Disgust coated McNeal’s voice. “These cases just get harder and harder.”



Todd shrugged. “’Cause the criminals are a different breed.” One that he’d be ready to face now, head-on.



He rose slowly, pushing up from his chair. He was bruised and sore as hell from the fall he’d taken in the alley, and he couldn’t wait to go home and curl up in bed with his succubus.



“Where the hell are you goin’?” McNeal demanded.



“Don’t you know, Captain?” Colin asked, and a smile lifted his lips. “The man’s got a date waiting.”



“Hmm.” McNeal’s dark brows bunched. “With the succubus?” No censure. Just curiosity.



Todd gave a stiff nod.



“Be careful with that one, Brooks. A woman like her, if she gets away from you, you’ll spend the rest of your life kicking your own ass.”



Then Todd was the one to smile. “Don’t worry, Captain, I don’t have any intention of letting her go.”



“Um.” He tracked his gaze over to Colin. “You gonna finish filling me in?”



A nod.



McNeal jerked his thumb toward the door. “Then get the hell out of here, Detective. I think you’ve more than earned some rest…



or a night off with your lady.”



Todd didn’t have to be told twice.



He found her sitting at the edge of her pool, staring down into the glowing water. She wore a loose, flowing top and a pair of dark shorts. In the faint light, her pale legs gleamed.



He’d kept his distance from her all day, knowing that the media glare would be on the case, and needing to wait until he’d presented his report to the captain before he got close to her again.



But, at least for him, the case was over now. The killer had been caught.



Killed.



Not by his hand, and not in a way that he understood. Because he could have sworn when he battled those flames—they had been coming from inside Cameron’s body.



Impossible.



Or, at least that’s what he would have thought, once.



Cara didn’t glance up at his approach, but he saw her shoulders stiffen, and he knew that she was aware of him.



He walked toward her slowly, stopping only when he was close enough to reach out and touch her—and he did, lifting his hand to smooth over the long silk of her hair.



“Are you…” her voice, husky, sexy, made him ache, “going after him?”



Todd blinked. Not the question he’d been anticipating.



Cara turned her head, glancing over her shoulder so that their eyes met. “You know it was Niol, don’t you?”



“Yes.” He’d known the minute he saw the flames that Niol was responsible. When Cameron had threatened to kill the reporter, Niol had been too calm, too certain when he’d said, “Either way, you’re dying tonight. ”



And Cameron had died.



But Cara needed to understand something. He stared into her eyes, and told her the truth. “If I could have killed Komak, I would have.” Because the bastard had gone after her. Killed her sister, and, in his gut, he knew Cameron wouldn’t have stopped until Cara had suffered the same fate.



And anyone who threatened his woman’s life—well, Todd intended to take them down, by any means necessary.



Yeah, he was a cop. But he was also a man.



“I can’t prove that Niol was behind Cameron’s death.” And no matter how long Smith looked at the body, he doubted she’d find any evidence to link the demon to the crime.



Her feet lifted from the water’s edge. After a moment, she rose slowly and turned to stand before him. “You’re going to let him go?”



A grim nod. “For now.” If the bastard fucked up in the future, he’d go after him. But, for now, with this case—well, there really wasn’t a choice.



“And what about us?” Her eyes matched the darkness of the night. “Now that the case is over, are you just going to let us go, too?”



What? He grabbed her arms, holding her tight and helplessly noting the softness of her skin. “Is that what you want? To get rid of me now?” God, he hoped not, because if she left him now—



He’d never be the same.



“Am I what you want?” She asked, voice just as hard and desperate as his had been. “Am I really what you want, Detective Todd Brooks? A demon to take home to the family? A woman who will always be different, one who will always—”



“Be mine.” Not a question, a statement of fact. In his heart, she was his. Would be his. Always. “And I don’t really give a shit about what the rest of my family thinks. Not that I’ve got much of one left, anyway.” A few cousins, spread across the United States. “Hell, baby, your family is the one I’m more concerned about.” How would they feel about having a human in their fold?



“All day,” he continued, “I’ve thought about you. Wanted you. Wanted to touch you and taste you and—” He broke off, because he had to feel her mouth under his. The kiss was too fierce, bruising in its intensity, but she met him, her lips feeding on his with a wild hunger—a hunger he knew well.



The thought of losing her—it ate away at him. His hands worked on her clothes, all but yanking the fabric away. Todd needed to feel the softness of her flesh against his, needed it more than breath right then.



He had to show her how good it was between them. How good it would always be.



But her hands rose and pushed against his chest. His head lifted.



“Todd…it’s more than sex to you, isn’t it?”



The question pierced his heart. “Do you even need to ask, baby?” This time, when he kissed her, his lips were soft. “You’re in me, Cara. So deep inside me. Hell, I didn’t think anyone would ever know me like you do.” And he hadn’t believed he’d ever need anyone the way he needed her. “I told you once that I would follow you into hell.” His hands lifted and he framed her face. “I meant that. I’d do anything for you.”



“You’re not—not just saying—” She stopped, shook her head. Her face was wistful, her eyes watchful.



He tightened his hold on her. “Don’t you understand, baby? You’re mine—the woman I’ve always wanted, and never thought I’d find.” Todd had to swallow before he said, “I know I should be better. More, for you, but I’m just a man, a man who touched the best thing he could have ever imagined one night.” Time to drop his pride. “I love you, Cara. Love every part of you, and if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how damn good a human and a demon can be together.”



Her lips curved upward slowly, and the darkness in her gaze seemed to lighten. “You love me?”



“More than anything in this world or any other.” Stark truth. And, damn, but he was praying she felt even a fraction of the same way about him. She had to feel something, and if she gave him enough time, he’d show her how great they could be together.



“I know things started the wrong way between us.” Extreme understatement. “I wish I’d met you without the case. Just seen you singing one night.” He would have felt the same way about her, but the suspicions and accusations wouldn’t have been between them.



Her right hand lifted, and she traced the lines of his face. “Do you know that before I met you, I was ready to give up sex?”



He slowly shook his head, shocked. Could a succubus even do that?



She laughed softly. “Then I met you, and everything changed for me. Everything. ”



He hoped she meant—



“I love you, Todd Brooks, and I will keep loving you for all the very, very long years of my life.”



She loved him. Fucking miracle. He crushed her against him, drove his tongue deep into her mouth, and tasted the paradise he’d been craving.



It should have been a soft, tender mating. Their feelings were spoken now, real, but the emotions were too raw, as was their hunger.



Their hands fought, ripped at the clothing. Fabric gave way quickly beneath the assault.



Then his mouth was on her breast. Licking, sucking, kissing, loving the sweet flesh. His hands shoved down her shorts. Tore away her panties to find the creamy flesh that waited for him.



Her fingers unsnapped his jeans, pulled down the zipper, and his arousal sprang out, hard, ready, so eager for her that moisture coated the broad head of his cock.



There was no waiting. He stumbled over to the chaise longue. Nearly fell onto the cushions and dragged her down over him.



Her thighs were parted, so when she fell onto him, she straddled him and her hot, wet sex slid over his cock.



Another kiss. Lips, tongue. Tasting. Taking.



His hands touched her—frantic touches, caresses all over her flesh.



Her fingers wrapped around the length of his erection. Squeezed, stroked, and had his eyes rolling back into his head.



His lips tore from hers. “Can’t…wait.”



Her smile would have tempted a saint—and it sure as hell tempted a cop. “Good.”



Then she was positioning his length, lifting her hips, and pushing the head of his arousal into the tight opening of her sex.



He thrust up, jerking his hips off the chaise at the exact moment her hips drove down onto him. Their moans filled the air as his cock lodged deep within her.



When her sex clenched around him like a hot fist, there was no stopping him. Todd’s hands dropped to the cement for balance and his hips began to piston up against her. Harder. Faster. The night sky glinted above—a million shining stars winked over Cara and he thrust, sinking into the hottest paradise he’d ever know and starring at stars—and his succubus.
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