She’s rotten inside. Just like they all are.”
The force of his rage caused his fingers to shake. His hand tightened around the phone. “I want to know just who—”
The call ended with a soft click. Then the buzz of a dial tone had him swearing.
Sonofabitch.
As quickly as he could, he used his call return. One ring. Two. The beeping filled his ears, and he counted up to fifteen rings.
The lady wasn’t gonna answer his call.
Shit. Not a big surprise. He glanced over at the Caller ID light on his phone. Made a mental note of the number. He’d be pulling a few strings come daylight, and he’d track down the mystery lady.
Light trickled through the window, spilling onto the bed and Cara. She sat up, pulling the covers over her breasts. “Todd?”
He ran a hand over his face. This damn case was really pissing him off.
“She was lying, Todd. I never left Paradise Found those nights, and I sure as hell didn’t get anyone to lie for me.”
But had Niol? The bastard was as deceitful as a snake.
“Tell me that you believe me.” She touched his cheek. “I don’t know who that woman was on the phone, but she’s the one lying, not me. ” Her voice was vibrating with intensity.
He caught her hand. Kissed her palm. “It’s all right.” He’d get to the bottom of this shit. If the woman had been lying in an effort to set up Cara, he’d find out why, and he’d find her. “Go back to sleep.” Though he doubted he’d be able to follow suit. Possibilities and worries filled his head.
If Cara was innocent—and he’d bet his badge that his lady was—then someone was working damn hard to make her look guilty.
Something like that—it was personal. Always.
So who would hate his succubus enough to want her life destroyed? Enough to kill to see her punished?
He’d find out.
And he knew just where he was going to start his hunt.
With Niol.
Cara lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes. The words Todd had spoken rang in her ears.
And the words he had not drove into her heart.
She’d bared her soul to him when they made love, let him touch the deepest part of her spirit, and the man still didn’t trust her.
Perhaps it was time for her to back off. To let the cop have his space.
Or perhaps it was time for her to start showing the world just how powerful a succubus could be.
Because there was only one conclusion she could draw from that phone call.
Some bitch was setting her up for murder.
And she wasn’t about to take that shit from anyone.
Cara could play the nice girl. She’d done it for years. But nice went skin deep, and true power, demon power, it cut to the bone.
She was going to find the person out there who was screwing with her life, and she’d make the woman pay.
For poor Michael’s death.
For the other men.
For making Todd doubt her.
And for ruining one of the best nights she’d had in years.
The bitch was about to find out just what happened to people who angered a succubus.
The woman had better run, fast. Because once a succubus started seeking prey, she didn’t stop until the hunt was over.
“You’re really a stupid whore, you know that?” The deep voice came out of the darkness and had Susan spinning around. Her back slammed into the phone.
Oh, shit. He was there. “Wh-what are you—”
He smiled at her, and the sight chilled her. She wasn’t afraid of much in this world, but this demon terrified her.
Because she knew he was evil. All the way to the core.
But so was she.
Carefully, slowly, she began to kneel down. Before she’d shot out of town, she’d stopped at the pawnshop and picked up a new knife—one that was strapped on her ankle and sharpened to kill. Susan liked knives—liked having them close. She had since she was seventeen, when she’d used the sweet, sharp blade of her mother’s steak knife to stab her stepfather right in his heart.
Right after the bastard had made the mistake of touching her again.
Just a few more inches, and she’d have the knife. She knew the demon’s weak spots, and even if she couldn’t take him down, she could hurt him enough to get away and—
He lunged for her. Grabbed her right hand. Broke her wrist with a twist of his fingers.
She didn’t cry out. She’d stopped doing that years ago. Susan stared up into his black eyes and choked down the pain.
He yanked her up against him. “You’ve been playing without me, sweetheart.” He leaned in close, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and inhaled her scent. “I can still smell the blood on your skin.”
She’d washed for hours. Scrubbed until her flesh was sore. But those damn demons, they could smell a speck of blood from a mile away.
Or so the stories said.
Susan thought the stories were half bull, but one thing was undeniable—the demon knew what she’d been up to while he’d been watching other prey. “Tommy deserved to die.” He’d turned his back on her. Her. Tried to walk away and leave her behind.
No one did that. Not anymore.
And Tommy had sure changed his tune once she’d started using her knife on him. He’d been begging for her forgiveness then.
But she hadn’t been in a forgiving mood.
“Thomas Monroe wasn’t on my list, Susan.” His touch was ice cold.
She’d liked that in the beginning. Liked the chill and the rush that he gave her.
When they’d started killing, she’d liked him even better. It was only lately that she’d begun to worry about him, and to wonder—
What did the good-looking demon who carried the scent of sex and death have planned for her?
“He wasn’t supposed to die.”
“Yeah, well, he was on my list.” She should probably be playing this differently. Acting cowed. Scared.
Not her style, even though fear squeezed her heart.
The demon smiled down at her, and his scent thickened in the air around them. Helplessly, she felt her body begin to respond. Her nipples tightened. Her sex creamed.
“You were such a surprise to me, sweetheart.” He leaned his head toward her. Kissed her lips. Pushed her back even harder against the plastic phone. “So beautiful.”
His words were a lie. She knew it. Yeah, she was pretty. She’d used that physical appeal more times than she could count in the past, but he hadn’t wanted her because she was pretty.
He’d wanted her because she looked like the other woman, Cara.
She’d fixed that demon whore. Cara would be ending up in jail soon.
“You left evidence behind. Very, very sloppy of you, sweetheart.”
So she wasn’t as smart as he was. Not as good at cleaning up. “The cops don’t have anything on me.” She forced a smile. “They think it’s that singer, Cara. I just called the detective, you know, the one who’s been watching her at the club…”
His hand dropped to her throat. Caressed the skin. “And?”
“I-I told him that her alibi was crap. That the people at the club were lying.” Her heartbeat began to steady as hope raised its head.
Maybe she could smooth the situation over with him. He wanted Cara to take the fall for the killings. She’d just given him the other woman on a silver platter.
Surely that made up for a little extra murder?
His fingers began to squeeze her throat. “You’re so fucking stupid.”
The pain of his steely grasp brought tears to her eyes. She blinked, trying to block the moisture from falling. She could get out of this mess. There was still time.
But her heart had started to race again.
“He’s screwing her now,” he spat the words at her. “When you called Detective Brooks, she was in his bed.” A laugh. Cold.
Deadly. “She would have heard everything you said. She’ll know what’s happening now, Susan. She’ll start hunting you.”
“W-won’t…f-find…m-me…” Talking was hard with his fingers digging into her windpipe. She barely managed to gasp out the words.
Then his hand was gone and she dragged air into her lungs, sucking in the oxygen desperately.
“Of course, she will. Demons are very, very good at hunting. Almost as good as those fucking animal shifters.”
But that Cara, she was just a piece of fluff. Susan wasn’t scared of her. She’d cut the demon up, just like she’d cut Tommy—
He laughed at her. “You still don’t understand what you’re up against, do you?”
Now she was getting pissed. “I…understand th-that you…need me.” He couldn’t kill without her. She was the bait. The perfect setup. Though the demon might be furious, he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. “Look, I th-think…the rules between us…need to change.” The sex was great. Hell, sex was always great after a kill. And he’d been giving her money. Gotten her a nicer place.
But now the shift of power was about to turn, in her favor. Susan let a smile curve her lips.
His eyes narrowed. “Actually, Susan, I don’t need you anymore at all.”
Just like that, her fate was sealed.
She shoved against him, hard, seeing her death in the darkness of his gaze. The bastard laughed again and stepped back, and she managed to twist and yank her knife from its sheath. “You stay the hell back!” She had to hold the blade with her weaker left hand—no way could she use her right now.
“Aw, Susan, why do you want to fight me?” That charming, deceitful smile was on his face. She’d always thought humans lied well, but they couldn’t even come close to matching demons.
“Get out of my way!” He was blocking the entrance to the phone booth. But if she could make him move, she could run, maybe make it to her car—
It hit her then. His scent. Teasing her nostrils. Sex. Power.
No, damn it, no!
Helplessly, she felt her body respond even more to him.
“You don’t want to use that knife on me.” His voice became even deeper.
Damn demon power.
She hated demons.
The hand gripping the knife began to lower.
“Good girl.”
No. She’d stopped being a good girl the night her bastard of a stepfather had climbed into her bed.
“You want me, don’t you, Susan?” Still using that hypnotic power of his.
Her nipples were so hard they ached. Her legs trembled. She managed a nod.
“And you don’t want to hurt me, do you?”
Oh, but she did.
He lifted his hand toward her as he closed the space between them. His fingers trailed over her breast. Plucked the nipple. “Kiss me, Susan.”
Her mouth, open, met his. The kiss was far too hard, far too rough, and she felt the copper of blood on her tongue.
The she felt the press of his hand against her chest.
Right over her heart.
No! The scream echoed in her mind even as she continued to helplessly kiss him back.
His lips lifted. “I’m gonna drain you,” he whispered, and sounded like a lover with a caress in his voice. “Every drop of power from you—I’m gonna take it. Then I’m gonna leave your corpse to rot.” Another bruising kiss.
Then she felt it. The slow stir of magic in the air. No, God, no, she wouldn’t go out like this.
With every ounce of strength she had, Susan focused on her left hand. She just needed to break the demon’s power. If he lost his concentration, the pheromones would weaken, and she’d be able to fight more—
And not just twist and moan eagerly like a bitch in heat against him.
“Ah, Susan, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you, then to kill you.”
The fingers of her left hand trembled as they tightened around the knife.
Distract him. “I-I can still…help you,” she managed. “I-I can get…more men. Don’t—”
He laughed at her. Laughed. “I told you, Susan.” His hands cupped her cheeks. “I don’t need you anymore.”
She’d screwed up. Played with the devil when she wasn’t ready for hell. “B-but I-I can give…you the n-next man on…y-your list!
I-I can give y-you…T-Todd Brooks—”
“You already have.” He smirked at her. “Thanks for the gift.”
Oh, he’d be thanking her. Her breath caught, sweat beaded her brow, and she managed to lift the knife and plunge it into his side.
Startled, the demon cried out, then stumbled back.
His scent eased, just for a moment, and her head cleared.
Snarling, she plunged the knife straight into his chest. His cry of pain was music to her ears. Susan yanked the blade out and drove it deep again.
Blood sprayed across the phone booth. Dripped down the glass.
She drove the knife into his chest once more. Furious. Desperate. He should be going down. Weakening.
Susan lifted the knife, prepared for another hard thrust.
His fingers flew out and locked around her throat. “Bitch.” His breath was ragged. “I’m not one of your fucking humans, Susan.”
He shook her, slamming her head back against the glass. Stars exploded before her eyes. Bloodred stars. “It takes a hell of a lot more than a few knife wounds to kill me.”
She’d see what it took, Susan thought, her world a blur of pain and blood. She’d keep stabbing him until the bastard went down.
Straining, she struggled to bring the knife between them.
He should have been weak. His blood was all around her. On her skin. Soaking her clothes. Covering the glass of the booth.
His hold tightened around her throat. The knife was slippery in her hand, wet from too much blood. If she could just—
