“I’m glad you came out here, sweetheart,” he gritted the words and glared down at her with black eyes. “Nice deserted spot. No one around for miles. The perfect place to die.”
Her thundering heart shook her entire body. “Don’t! Just—”
Too late. He jerked his hand, twisting her head hard to the right and breaking her neck in one fast move.
The knife slipped from her hand and landed on the floor of the phone booth with a clatter.
He held her a moment, enjoying the feel of her twisted neck beneath his fingers. Then he smiled and let her body fall.
Todd was called to the crime scene on Thomas Boulevard the next morning at a little after 8 A.M. When he’d awoken, Cara had been gone, and he wondered for the fifth time since leaving his place why the woman had disappeared on him without a word.
He pulled his car to a stop, jumped out, automatically reached for the latex gloves he’d brought in his jacket, only to be stopped short by Colin.
There was worry in his eyes. “Where’s Cara?”
Todd frowned at that. “Hell if I know.” But he’d be finding out, soon.
Colin’s lips tightened. “When did you see her last?”
What the hell? “Is this another hit by our killer? Damn it, I wondered why we got the call on this one.” So what was happening?
There wasn’t a hotel around, but had the Bondage Killer struck again? And was Colin trying to pin this one on Cara? Not gonna happen. “Look, man, Cara has an alibi, she was with me last night.”
“With you?”
“Yeah, at my place, in my bed, until seven this morning.” When he’d heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.
“I wasn’t saying she committed this crime—”
“Then what were you—”
Colin grunted. “You sure she was with you until seven?”
What the fuck? “Yeah.”
His shoulders seemed to relax. “Thought it was her at first, but the smell was off, the freckles weren’t right and—”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Blue eyes held his. “Go see for yourself.”
Well, he’d been trying to do just that when Colin had stopped him. Shouldering past his partner, Todd headed for the phone booth just beyond the crossing lines of yellow tape. Even from the distance, he could see the blood lining the glass. “Shit. Someone really did a number on the vic—”
“Not the victim’s blood,” Colin said from behind him. “The victim died from a broken neck.”
He was at the phone booth now. Todd glanced down, and felt as if he’d just taken a knife to the chest. “She…looks like Cara.”
Not a perfect match. But the hair was the same. The nose. The brow. This woman’s chin was bit more curved and she had a line of freckles on her nose, but—damn, it was a close resemblance.
“The uniforms on scene recognized her from the station…or they thought they did. They called the captain—he told me to get down here ASAP.”
It could have been Cara.
The woman looked so much like her that she could have been her sister.
A woman who was a copy of Cara, murdered near a phone booth just hours after his mystery call.
No damn way that was a coincidence. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Have you run the phone records?”
“Just sent out the order.” A pause. “When I got the call from McNeal, he told me not to notify you yet. I-I didn’t know what was happening, and I thought you should be in the loop—” Colin broke off, shaking his head. “Man, if I’d known that he thought it was your lady, I never would have called you in—”
Your lady. The remorse in Colin’s voice was undeniable. “It’s not Cara.” But, what if it had been? What if he’d arrived and found her bloodstained body, lying broken in the phone booth.
No. His hands fisted. He wasn’t even gonna think about shit like that. His lady, as Colin had so aptly put it, was a strong demon.
No one would hurt her.
No one. Todd forced his gaze away from the woman’s face. Sweat beaded his brow.
Do the job.
He had to focus. Do what needed to be done.
Then he could get the hell out of there.
Not Cara.
He moved forward, being careful not to disturb the victim. His gaze locked on the small identification square just below the phone.
The plastic screen that covered the phone number for the booth was spattered with blood, but he could still make out the numbers.
He exhaled heavily. A damn match. He turned his attention to a still shaken-looking Colin. “I think you’re going to find my number was the last one dialed.”
“What?”
“I got a call last night, this morning, hell, around four a.m.” The call could’ve come moments before the victim’s time of death. “A woman told me that Cara’s alibis were crap. That the staff at Paradise Found were lying.”
“And why would they be doing that?”
“Because Niol told them to.”
“Shit.”
“The call came from this number.” He pointed to the small sign. This case just kept throwing him one damn surprise after another.
He whistled as he glanced around the booth and saw nothing but blood. “The lady must have done a hell of a number on her attacker.”
Thank God it hadn’t been Cara.
“There was a knife beside her body,” Colin said. “It’s already been tagged and bagged.”
The stench of blood had him swallowing and stepping back. Well, a knife would explain the blood, if…“Shouldn’t there be another dead body here?” He asked quietly. Someone had sure bled out like a stuck pig, and no human could survive that kind of blood loss.
No human. He met Colin’s stare, understanding hitting him with the force of a blow right to the face.
“It takes a lot to kill certain people,” was all Colin said.
Not people. Other.
Sonofabitch. “Just how fast,” he asked quietly, too quietly for the other cops to hear, “do demons heal?”
“From wounds like this?” Colin exhaled, then said, “A couple of days. Unless it’s one of the level-tens—and even for one like that, healing would take some time—at least twenty-four hours.”
Then he’d better move, fast. “You got this scene secured?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got the scene. Smith’s on her way. So is the captain.” He whistled. “Bastard’s gonna bawl my ass out when he finds out you were here.” A wince. “What I deserve, though, man, I’m sorry, if it had been her—”
“It wasn’t.” He turned away from the body. The scene would be safe. He could trust Colin to handle this end for him.
Todd yanked off his gloves and began heading for his car, his long strides almost a run.
“Brooks! Damn it! Wait!”
He paused, but only for a moment. “If the killer can heal as fast as you say, then time’s running out, partner.” Every minute that passed was more time for the killer to heal. “You lead things here.”
“And where are you going?”
He turned his head and met Colin’s stare. His partner wasn’t going to like this. “I’m heading to Paradise.”
Colin started cursing. “No, wait, not without backup—”
“Take care of the body,” he said. “And this time, I’ll take care of Niol.”
The bastard really hadn’t been on his list of suspects, until that call came last night. After mentioning the demon’s name, the lady had met one hell of a violent end.
Coincidence? He didn’t buy those anymore.
Oh, yeah, it was past time for him to see the devil.
And to find out if he bled.
“I want to see your boss.” The two assholes at the door just smirked at Todd when he gave his order.
I’m not in the damn mood for this. He brushed back the edge of his jacket, let his holster show. “I said I want to see your fucking boss.”
They stopped smirking. The big, bald one— Jesus, did that guy ever sleep? —stepped toward him, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. “Niol’s busy now.”
Busy doing what? Trying to staunch the flow of blood from knife wounds? “Let me in.” No, he didn’t have a warrant, probably couldn’t even get one, but he wasn’t leaving until he talked to Niol.
He no longer even thought for a moment that Cara was a suspect in the Bondage case.
But she could very well be a victim.
God but that dead woman had looked so much like her…
“I’ve got another dead body, one that points to Niol, and unless you want every human cop in Atlanta stationed at this door, twenty-four-seven, you’ll let me inside.”
The bald bastard stared him down. Todd glared right back at him. Finally, the guy cursed and lifted his radio. Then he muttered,
“Tell Niol company’s coming.”
He stepped back, clearing the way.
Todd grunted as he brushed by him and the other bouncer, a tall, lanky fellow with beady eyes who glared daggers at him.
Inside, Paradise Found was quiet. Dead quiet. The last time he’d come during the day for a confrontation with Niol, the place had been exactly the same.
Apparently the local ghouls weren’t much for daytime partying.
Now if he could just find that ass—
A door marked ‘PRIVATE’ opened to the left. Niol stepped forward, carefully shutting the door behind him. He quirked a brow as his gaze met Todd’s. “Ah, Detective, I was wondering when I’d be seeing you again. From what my bartender Cameron tells me, you’ve become quite the addict here. But then, your kind tends to get addicted so easily.”
The bastard didn’t look injured. His dark hair was brushed back from his high forehead. His black eyes glinted as he stared at him.
“Cameron says that, huh?” Cameron talked too damn much. Todd’s gaze slanted toward the bar. No sign of the punk.
But he wasn’t there for Cameron, anyway. Another fight for another day.
Time to cut through the bullshit. “I’ve got a dead body—”
“Another one?” Niol drawled, breaking across his words. “You boys at the Atlanta PD sure do keep busy.”
“The victim looks a hell of a lot like one of your singers, Cara Maloan.”
Not so much as a flicker of his expression. “Really.”
“Yeah, really.” He clenched his hands. “I’ve got reason,” damn good reason, “to believe the victim managed to injure her attacker before he killed her.”
“He? You’re sure the killer is a man?”
No, he just had the damn strong suspicion that Niol was the killer in question. “This victim called me last night.” Hadn’t been completely proven yet since the woman who could prove the call was stone dead, but lying to Niol wasn’t a crime. It was perfect bait. “Told me that you’d been getting your workers to lie about Cara’s alibis.”
Now Niol frowned and took a few steps away from the closed door. “I haven’t told anyone to lie.”
“Then maybe you used some of that demon bullshit power of yours and made ’em think they were telling the truth.”
Niol tapped his chin. “Finally figured things out, have you, Detective? It certainly took you long enough.”
He hated this asshole.
“But your education is still very much lacking.” Niol sauntered toward the bar. “Demon magic doesn’t generally work on other demons. And my staff here, well, aside from the occasional witch—who, by the way, would be immune to my power, too—well, they’re all pureblood demons.”
As if on cue, Cameron suddenly appeared behind the bar, looking a bit pale as he pushed a dark red liquid toward Niol and a whiskey toward Todd.
“I’m not here to drink,” Todd snapped. Not even 10 A.M. What was with these demons?
Niol took a slow sip from his glass. “No, of course not. Thanks, Cameron.” He glanced at Todd. “You’re here to find out if I’ve got some kind of wounds, right? From the attack?”
“Yes.”
Cameron headed toward the back of the bar, disappeared.
“I don’t think I have to show you anything. I mean, a demon’s body is his own, now, isn’t it?” A taunting smile curved his lips once again. “I think you’re playing out of your league, human. Way out. Perhaps you’d better leave and send the shifter back. At least he’s strong enough to handle all the players in the game.”
Todd’s control snapped. He could still smell that woman’s blood. See Cara’s face. And he wasn’t in the mood to be jerked around by a demon. He lunged at Niol, grabbed him and slammed the guy back against the bar. “Don’t fuck with me!”
“Why? Aren’t you fucking with one of my singers?”
He’d break him apart. He pulled back his fist, ready to wreck Niol’s face and—
“Stop, Todd!”
Cara’s voice.
His head snapped to the left. There she was. Standing just outside the door Niol had exited moments before.
His arm shook with the effort of holding back his punch. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t release Niol and didn’t drop his hand, though part of him was surprised the demon wasn’t using his mojo to send him flying across the room.
Cara glanced down at Niol, then back to him. “I work here, remember?”
“Not today, you don’t.” Wednesdays through Saturdays. He’d confirmed her schedule long ago.
