The woman didn’t act like a killer. There had been genuine shock and sorrow on her face when she’d learned of House’s death.
There were some reactions that couldn’t be faked, no matter how good the actress.
“I’ll go to Paradise Found and check her alibi,” Todd said, determination filling him. After he got a few hours of sleep, he’d head out and make absolutely certain her alibis held. But, right now, there wasn’t much time to spare. The uniforms had almost been salivating over Cara. If he didn’t hurry, she’d probably crook her finger and have one of them volunteering to give her a ride home.
And that outcome just wasn’t part of his plans for the few remaining hours before dawn.
“Uh, maybe you should let me check at Paradise,” Colin told him, and the hard edge had lessened in his voice. “You and Niol don’t exactly have a good track record.”
Niol was the annoying bastard who owned Paradise Found. The last time Todd had been near him, the guy had attacked him. Sort of. Todd still wasn’t exactly certain how he’d flown ten feet across the bar when he couldn’t actually remember Niol ever touching him.
No question, the man was weird as hell.
And he really was a bastard.
But Todd didn’t have time to waste talking about Niol then. “I’m going after her,” he muttered, and figured that was really all he needed to say to Colin.
His job was now very simple. Either he proved Cara’s innocence and got to looking for the real killer ... or he proved the beautiful lady’s guilt.
He hurried from the station, her sweet scent still filling his nostrils and a helpless need tightening his gut.
Colin Gyth watched his partner disappear, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to end well. Not. At. All.
He thought about calling in the captain. Giving him a heads-up on the situation.
But then Colin dismissed the idea almost immediately. He didn’t know enough about Ms. Maloan to go to the captain, not yet.
And if her alibis checked out, well, then he might never have to tell Captain Danny McNeal that their suspect wasn’t human.
“Be careful,” he whispered the words too late, because Brooks was already gone. But his partner had no idea what hell a woman like Cara could wreak.
Luckily for Brooks, he did—and Colin wasn’t about to turn his back and let his partner go down in flames.
Todd caught Cara’s arm just as she started to climb down the narrow steps leading to the street.
She turned on him, her face furious, “Damn it, enough, just let—”
“I’m sorry.” The words seemed torn from him. Yet he was sorry. He’d been doing his job, but sometimes, well, sometimes he didn’t like the man he became when he was with suspects.
You have to be willing to fight dirty to take down the devil. His father’s words. He’d always hated the truth in those words.
“Ms. Maloan . . .” No, he didn’t like that. Too formal, and they weren’t going to be formal. No, they were going to be damn intimate. He knew it. “Cara, I was doing my job.”
The street in front of the precinct was deserted and slick from the light rain that had fallen during the night. The streetlights glared down on the area, sending pools of light shining onto the gleaming black surface of the road.
“You’re still doing your job,” she charged, pulling her arm free. Her hair was wild around her face and he wanted to touch it so badly that his fingers shook. “You’re just playing the good cop now, trying to gain my trust.”
She was right. He was still working the case, but there was more to it than that. More that he didn’t understand. “Let me take you home.”
Her glare would probably have frozen a lesser man. “I think I’d rather walk.”
Todd doubted that. “It’s at least twenty miles, Cara, and it’s not like you’d be going through the safest neighborhoods.”
She huffed out a breath. “Don’t expect me to believe you’re worried about me. I’m a killer, remember? I seduce men, then murder them. A walk on a seedy street should be nothing for me.”
Clamping down on his rising anger, Todd tightened his grip on her. “I was following the evidence,” he said, “and if I hadn’t brought you in for questioning, I wouldn’t be a good cop, now would I?”
Her jaw remained stubbornly set.
“Look, I understand that you’re angry—”
One golden brow lifted. “I don’t think ‘angry’ really covers my feelings here, Detective.”
“Fine. Furious. Pissed. Whatever. But the fact remains that you need a ride home”—he dug into his pocket with his left hand, pulled out his keys—“and I’ve got a car ready.”
Her gaze dropped to his keys. Her lips thinned. “Fine, but you’d better not ask me another damn question about the case during the ride, got it?”
Oh, yeah, he “got it.” Todd smiled. “Come on, my car’s around back.”
She stepped closer to him.
He released his hold on her arm, and his hand rose, brushed lightly across her cheek. Damn, but the woman’s skin was soft.
Cara stilled.
“And my name’s Todd,” he said quietly because she hadn’t said his first name yet, and he wanted her to say it.
Wanted to hear the name fall from those kiss-me lips.
Her lips firmed. “Good for you, Todd.” Then she stepped around him and marched toward the parking lot, giving him one stellar view of her firm ass.
Todd swallowed, then sent up a fast and furious prayer that he wasn’t about to fall for a killer.
Because he had very definite plans to get close to Cara. He wanted her in his bed. Had from the beginning. But he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let down his guard with her.
He’d get her to trust him, to reveal all her secrets.
And if he had to do so, he’d use those secrets.
He just hoped he wouldn’t have to hurt her.
Or that he wouldn’t find out that her perfect bedroom eyes belonged to a soulless killer.
The cops were letting her go.
From the shadows, the killer watched Cara climb into the black Vette. Saw the detective stare down at her a minute too long.
The bastard was already falling into her web. Just like all the other idiots.
The plan was working perfectly. The body count was growing and the cops were fucking clueless.
Humans were so blind. Never seeing the reality around them until it was too late.
Soon, it would be too late for Detective Brooks. The poor human was on the list now.
But the cop wouldn’t die right away. No point in a kill this soon—and Todd Brooks deserved to get to play this wonderful game a bit longer.
Brooks would play, and so would that bitch Cara.
Then death would come, in its blinding glory.
The killer could almost taste the sweet release.
Soon.
Chapter 3
“You don’t need to get out,” Cara said when Todd braked at her house. Her voice sounded higher and sharper than she’d intended. “I’ll be fine now.” She thought about thanking him for the ride, then discarded the idea.
Yes, she knew the guy had been doing his job when he questioned her, but she wasn’t going to overlook the fact that he’d been one serious jerk.
Being in the car with him had unnerved her. They’d originally gone to the police station in a patrol car. She’d sat in the back. Like any good criminal.
The confines of Todd’s Corvette were far too intimate. The leather seat felt soft and sleek beneath her, and with the windows rolled up, the scent of leather and man filled the car’s interior.
Cara reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
Her fingers curled into a fist at the command, her fingernails biting into her palm. She glanced at him and found his stare trained on her.
The car was cloaked with shadows, but she could still see his eyes. The strong lines of his face. Cara licked her lips. “What?”<
br />
“You feel it, don’t you?” A whisper that seemed like a caress against her skin.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She could lie, too.
His lips quirked, just a bit. With a flick of his fingers, he unhooked his seat belt and leaned toward her. “There’s something here.”
The promise of hot, wild sex. Of power and magic rushing into her body and making her scream with pleasure.
But she’d given that up because after the burn of fiery release, she hated the ashes of cold reality.
The reality that a man wouldn’t love a demon, no matter how enticing her physical appearance.
His hand lifted, reached for her.
Her fingers flew out and locked around his wrist in a fierce grip.
Silence. Then he said, “I just wanted to touch you.”
He sounded sincere, but . . . “I thought you just wanted to send me to jail.”
He didn’t deny her words. Didn’t fight her hold. Good thing, too, because the way she was feeling, Cara would have shown him just how strong a succubus could be.
Instead, his eyes dropped to her lips. “I wonder,” he spoke with words little more than a growl. “Do you taste as good as you smell?”
The damn pheromones. “It’s not me that you want.” The admission was hard.
“Ah, baby, but I’m going to have to disagree.” He was close, so close that she could feel the light brush of his breath against her face.
“You don’t understand—”
He kissed her. A soft, fast press of his lips against hers.
Cara’s fingers tightened around him as desire began to heat her blood.
“Not enough.” His lips were just above hers. “I need another taste . . .”
And she wanted more.
When his lips met hers again, her mouth was open. Ready. The kiss wasn’t as soft this time, and she was glad. She could taste the hunger on his lips, his tongue. A hunger that matched her own.
There was no questing search as his tongue slipped past her lips. Just need. Demand.
A moan trembled in the back of her throat even as her mouth widened for him. Her tongue met his, licking, stroking. Her nipples began to ache and swell as the fire blazing inside of her grew.
She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but Cara couldn’t stop. The cop was the wrong man for her. The situation was wrong.
But the need felt so right.
Power began to fill the air as his lust grew. Such sweet, tempting power. She could feel it, surrounding her. She could have that power. All of it.
She just had to take it.
Take him.
No. She’d sworn to fight that part of her life.
Cara pulled away from him, twisting her head to the side. “I—we have to stop.”
His breath was ragged. So was hers. Cara realized she still held his hand. Instead of a punishing grip, her fingers caressed his flesh. She snatched her hand away from him.
“Easy.” He didn’t retreat and he kept his stare on her. “It was just a kiss.”
That was how the sweetest temptation always started. With a soft kiss.
He was aroused. No denying the obvious. It was in his voice, and if she glanced down, she knew she’d see the outline of his swollen cock.
But she was aroused, too. The feel of his lips and tongue against hers had stroked the dark hungers within her, and the feel of his power in the air ...
Resisting was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Her chin lifted. She’d started a new life. Or she was trying to, anyway. Lusting after the detective, well, that hadn’t been part of her finely crafted plans. “I can’t do this,” she told him, but couldn’t help wishing that she could.
He smiled at her then, and with the streetlight drifting into the car, she could see the wink of his dimple. “Seems to me like you can, baby. You were doing one hell of a fine job just a minute ago.”
Her chin rose another notch. “What I meant was that I won’t do this.” She reached for the door handle. Second time is the charm. She managed to shove open the passenger side door. Her body twisted, her feet touched the pavement and—
“You want me as much as I want you.”
He had her there.
“Circumstances are shit now, no denying that.”
She looked back at him.
“But I’m not just gonna walk away from you. Hell, even if you weren’t hip deep in this mess, I couldn’t walk away from you.” His eyes blazed with intensity.
Cara stood, rising quickly from the car. The chilly air bit into her arms as she left the warmth of the Vette. “You don’t have to walk away from me,” she said, her voice clear. “I’ll walk away from you.” Then she took one step, another. Her back was ramrod straight, her head up. She left him like that, not looking back, even though her body ached for him.
“Running, Cara?”
His taunt didn’t stop her. Damn it, but she could still taste him. She pushed open her gate—the one she’d never bothered to keep locked—and she took careful steps up the curving path until she finally reached her front door. It was only when she crossed the threshold of her house that Cara drew in a deep, clear breath.
And admitted to herself that, hell, yeah, she’d been running.
Because Todd Brooks scared her. Oh, he didn’t scare the demon inside her. The demon could handle just about anything.
No, the demon wasn’t particularly worried, but the woman was scared spitless.
Moments later, she heard the growl of his car pulling away. Her shoulders dropped as relief swept through her.
Safe.
For now.
Detective Brooks had finally called it a night, but she knew he’d be back.
Sooner or later.
The faint light of dawn snuck through her blinds just as Cara finally crawled into bed.
Her gritty eyes closed, shutting out the light. The bed was soft beneath her, the sheets faintly cool.
Sleep pushed down on her as exhaustion swept through her body. One deep breath, two, and the dreams claimed her.
The dreams . . .
She didn’t know the apartment. Didn’t recognize any of the furniture. Cara walked slowly across the floor, her bare feet soundless as they crept over the hardwood.
Where was she? She thought of calling out, but fear stilled her tongue.
Dream or reality? The question bored into her mind as she ventured forward. Succubi always had such strong, vivid dreams. Sometimes it was nearly impossible to tell the dream world from the real one.
A door waited in front of her. Wooden, painted white. Partially open.
Her hand lifted. Pressed lightly against the wood and sent the door swinging inward with a soft creak.
A man’s room. The furniture was dark, heavy. Clothes—a shirt, pants, socks—were tossed haphazardly onto the floor. A king-size bed with rumpled covers waited in the middle of the room. An occupied bed.
Cara took a step toward the bed, then another, her movements almost helpless. She knew who would be in that bed, of course. There really wasn’t any doubt in her mind.
She could smell him.
She’d thought of him before her eyes closed. Still tasted him on her lips.
His dark hair was a sharp contrast to the white pillowcase. His eyes were closed, his features softened in sleep.
Todd Brooks.
Dream or reality?
The floor creaked beneath her feet.
His eyes flew open. Locked on her.
“Cara?”
Too late, she realized what was happening. But it had been such a long time since she’d taken a walk in dreams.
He grabbed her arm, pulled her toward him and had her tumbling into the bed. “You’re not real,” he muttered. “Damn it, I know you can’t be, but I’ll take what I can get.” Then his mouth was on hers. Hard. Hot. His tongue thrust deep and a growl rumbled in the back of his throat.
His arms wrapped around her, ho
lding her tight. His chest was bare, the muscles strong and warm against her. She wore a thin nightgown, just like the one she’d jerked on before stumbling into bed.
Her nipples pebbled, aching, and the stiff points pushed against the soft silk of her gown.
She straddled him. The bedsheets covered his hips, but she could feel his arousal nudging against her core.
The man was most definitely aroused.
No. No. This shouldn’t be happening. She had to stop, she—
His fingers eased under the spaghetti straps of her gown. His callused hands felt so good as they eased over the length of her arms, pushing down the gown and baring her breasts.
He tore his mouth from hers. Eased back so that he could get a better view of her. “God, baby, you’re the best dream I’ve ever had.”
The man had no idea.
She could feel the spark of magic in the air as his lust grew. His hunger swirled around her in waves of pulsing need. Her skin began to tingle with the promise of such pleasure.
And such dark power. Hers to take.
The strength it would give her . . .
But she shouldn’t. Cara shook her head, fighting for her own control as arousal had her sex moistening and her back arching in silent demand. No, this was wrong, she—
His lips closed over her breast. Pulled the mound deep into his mouth. Sucked.
Cara shuddered as her fingers dug into his arms. His teeth pressed against her, lightly scoring her flesh, and then he was licking her, long, hungry swipes of his tongue that had her moaning and twisting against him as she fought for more, more.
His hands slid down her body. Eased over her stomach, where the gown had pooled in a soft heap. His knuckles brushed across her belly button. Smoothed over her abdomen.
“Todd—” His name broke from her lips. She didn’t usually speak while dreamwalking. It was too dangerous. Power was in her voice. A command that had his head snapping up and his eyes flying to hers.
His cock was rock hard now and she realized that she was moving her hips against his. Rocking back and forth. Faster with each stroke of her body.