"Exactly." She waited a bit and then, because she really couldn’t help herself, asked, "Isn’t that why you came here?"
"Yeah, yeah, I guess it is." He ran a hand through his hair. "Let’s talk about the demons first."
"What do you want to know?"
"They’re fast healers, right?" At the slight inclination of her head, he continued, "What’s the deal with the power-level thing you keep mentioning? Level one, level two-what does that mean?"
"Demons can work magic, just like witches can. A low-level demon, a one or a two, can do small things, like light a candle or make a breeze blow through a room. But a level nine or ten"-this was the bad part, the very bad part-"they can stir tornadoes, start five-alarm fires, and even steal the minds of others."
"What?" He paced toward her, brows furrowed. "You’re telling me those bastards can control humans?"
"Sometimes." That was how the idea of demon possession had first come into being. "If a demon is strong enough, he can push his way into someone’s mind, can control the person or, at the least, incapacitate him."
Colin walked around her desk, came to stand less than a foot away from her. "Is that what happened to you?"
"Wh-what do you mean?" There was a faint line of stubble on his jaw. And far too much knowledge in his eyes.
"You told me you were nearly put into a coma once by an Other. The guy who did it, he was a demon, wasn’t he? One of those level nines or tens."
No sense denying it. "Yes."
She watched a muscle flex along his jaw. "Where is he now?" There was a banked rage in his voice, and for an instant, she saw the glow of the beast in his eyes.
"It doesn’t matter. That was years ago." And Myles couldn’t hurt anyone with his magic, not anymore. "I told you before, he burned out." She’d burned out the bastard.
"Would his powers have worked on me?" Before she could answer, he continued, "Niol tried something on me back at the bar. I could feel the hard shift in the air, but nothing happened."
"No." Shifters were the most powerful of the supernatural beings because they didn’t have just one body and one soul. Shifters had two. And the strength that came from that double bond was too strong for demons to touch. "A powerful shifter is the only Other that can match a demon’s strength."
"Well, that’s something then." His jaw clenched, and for a moment his eyes seemed to glitter. "How the fuck did you meet a guy like that anyway?"
Emily swallowed. She’d wondered when he’d ask. And since she’d pushed her way into his private life earlier, well, she figured he deserved to know about her past too.
"Was he your lover?"
She shook her head. "No, he was-" Damn. What had he been? "All my life, I’ve never fit in with the humans. They don’t understand me, and I doubt they ever will."
He watched her silently, and she knew that he understood.
"When I was eighteen, I stumbled into Niol’s bar, pulled by the magic I could feel in the air. He knew I was human, of course, but he let me in. I think I amused him." And he’d watched her, always watched her with those fathomless black eyes of his.
"Niol was the one who introduced me to Myles." She’d felt the black waves of Niol’s power right from the start, and she’d generally steered clear of him. After he’d arranged for her to meet Myles, well, then she’d known what a true bastard Niol was.
Colin stiffened. "Myles?"
"The charming demon who attacked me at Paradise."
His hands fisted.
"You know, sometimes I wonder about that. Sometimes I think…"
"What?"
"That Niol was testing me." Emily shook her head. "But that doesn’t really make sense, does it?" Yet it was a suspicion she couldn’t shake. Niol had casually introduced Myles to her one night as she’d stood, swaying to the music of the band. Every night she’d gone back to Paradise, Myles had been there, waiting for her. Always kind. Always the gentleman.
Until the night he’d attacked her.
And Niol had been watching from the shadows.
"I don’t think a hell of a lot about that bastard Niol makes sense."
Yes, he was probably right.
The alarm on her wrist began to vibrate. Emily exhaled heavily. Time for her twelve o’clock with Margie.
Colin frowned and the faint lines around his eyes deepened. "What in the hell is that?"
Good old shifter hearing. Emily held up her arm. "My alarm. It’s time for my next patient." And she was glad. It was a reprieve, of sorts, for her.
"In other words, you mean it’s time for me to leave." Some of the tension faded from his expression, and his lips hitched into a half smile. "That’s fine, Doc. I’ll see you tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Sure." His hand lifted, cupped her cheek. "When I come over."
Her stomach tightened. In anticipation, not fear. "I don’t remember inviting you over."
Colin’s head lowered toward hers. "We’ve got to finish our lesson."
Other 101. "Umm, right."
One black brow rose. "Is that disappointment I hear?"
She flushed. Way to be transparent. "I-"
His lips brushed against hers. Warm. Wet. Open.
God, but she liked the way he kissed. Liked the slow thrust of his tongue into her mouth. And the man tasted good. Like rich chocolate, and she’d always been a serious sucker for chocolate.
He pulled away slowly. "You know, Doc, I’m glad as hell to know that you weren’t Niol’s lover."
So was she.
"And now that I’ve been in your office, I’m going to have fantasies."
She was already having a few of her own.
Colin spared a glance for her couch. "Mainly, I’ll picture that couch. With you on it, naked, of course."
Of course. Damn. It was hot. She shouldn’t have worn the black turtleneck.
Ah, hell, she couldn’t even kid herself. She was just damn turned on. Because she could picture him on her couch too. And in her fantasies, he was most definitely naked.
Down, girl. You’ve got a patient waiting. It’s not the right time for wild sex.
"I’ll see you tonight." His hand fell away.
"O-Okay."
Colin strolled toward the door. Emily followed slowly behind him, trying to calm her racing heart.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Drake!" Margie’s cheery voice greeted her the moment she stepped into the lobby.
Emily forced a friendly smile. She liked Margie, truly enjoyed their sessions, but at that moment she could have easily cursed the elderly woman’s penchant for perfect punctuality.
A few minutes to get her body back under control…that’s all she wanted.
"Hello, Margie."
In her late seventies, with a mane of salt and pepper hair, Margie was the epitome of elegance. She was dressed in immaculate, very high-end clothing, and a cloud of French perfume hung in the air around her.
A large wicker basket sat on the chair beside her. A basket that was currently hissing.
Colin halted, slanted a quick look at Margie and her basket.
Margie smiled innocently back at him.
"Hello, ma’am."
The basket hissed, a very loud, very disgruntled hiss that cut straight through Colin’s words.
Emily cleared her throat. Time to intervene before Colin gets too friendly with my patient. "Thanks for stopping by, Detective. I’ll look forward to our next meeting."
He tore his gaze away from the basket. "Me too, Doc. Me too."
Then he was gone.
"Hmmmph." The grumble came from Vanessa, who was currently on the exact opposite end of the room from Margie and her basket. In fact, Vanessa looked like she was trying to disappear into the wallpaper.
Vanessa didn’t enjoy Margie’s visits as much as Emily did. But in all honesty, her distaste had nothing to do with Margie personally.
Emily motioned for her client to follow her inside the main office.
She shut the door with a decisive click and watched as her client carefully sat the basket down onto the couch. Then Margie lifted the round lid.