She’d heard that from others before. Heard them swear they could contain the beast inside. And she’d known they lied.
Because the beasts inside the shifters, they were strong. Deadly. And if the man was pushed too far, the animal would take over.
It was the nature of the beast.
Someone was pounding at the door. Emily grabbed a pillow, pulled it over her head. No, no, she didn’t want to wake up yet.
"Shit!" A masculine growl that was way, way too close.
She shoved the pillow aside as her eyes snapped open. Colin. Her memory came flooding back.
Darla.
The killer.
The dumb-ass kid who’d busted into her house.
And the hottest sex she’d had in years.
"Stay here." She had only seconds to admire his tight ass before Colin jerked on a pair of jeans. His stare shot to the clock. "Whoever that is had better have a damn good reason for being here at 6 A.M."
Six o’clock. That meant they’d gotten a grand total of three hours’ worth of sleep.
Emily pulled the sheet over her breasts. She wasn’t sure where her clothes were. Maybe still in the den? And where were her glasses?
Colin stomped out of the room. She heard the click of the lock, then, "What the hell are you doing here, Brooks?"
Emily frowned and inched to the edge of the bed.
"Where’s Dr. Drake?"
Her gaze scanned the room. The closet. She hurried across the floor, her toes tingling at the contact with the cold wood. She grabbed one of his shirts, pulling it quickly over her head. Luckily, the T-shirt fell to the middle of her thighs so she wouldn’t be flashing Colin’s partner.
"She’s here, isn’t she?" Brooks’s voice rose. "Dr. Drake, I need to talk to you. Now."
She blinked. He sounded pissed. What’s wrong with him? Sure, she might have accidentally shoved him last night when she’d been locked on the killer, but that was hardly any reason for him to be an-
"Watch your tone, Brooks."
"You’re the one who needs to watch what he’s doing, partner. You’re screwing this woman and you don’t even know-"
Emily shot down the hallway, found Colin glaring nose to nose at Brooks. "What’s going on here?"
Brooks glanced toward her, eyes narrowed. "You tell me."
Emily shook her head. "Look, it’s too early for me to play some dumb-ass guessing game with you."
"Where were you last night between eight and ten P.M.?"
"What?" No, no way had that too-pretty, GQ wannabe just asked her for an alibi. "Why do you want to know?"
"I just spent the last three hours breaking apart Darla’s hard drive." He cocked a brow. "Wanna know what I found?"
Serenity Woods.
"Back off, Brooks." Colin didn’t raise his voice. The utter coldness of his tone cut through the room.
Comprehension widened Brooks’s eyes. "You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you didn’t tell me."
"Cause there’s nothing to tell. Darla had her facts wrong about Emily."
"Oh?" Brooks stepped away from Colin. Paced to her side. His gaze swept over her body. Returned to her face. "So she’s not crazy? She wasn’t admitted to a juvie psychiatric ward when she was eleven because she was seeing monsters?"
Emily lifted her chin. "She is right in front of you. And, no, I’m not crazy. I’m completely, perfectly sane."
"Umm, you just see monsters. But other than that little oddity, you’re completely normal."
"Stop being a dick, Brooks." Colin positioned his body in front of her. "Emily, go get dressed."
"No." She’d be damned if she’d skulk away while the boy blunder called her a nutcase. "I think I need to clear up a few points with your partner here."
Colin looked over his shoulder, his jaw clenched. "Fine." He turned back to Brooks. Jabbed his finger into his chest. "But if your eyes drop one more time, I’m knocking you out. Partner or not."
Emily crossed her arms over her chest. Tapped her foot. "I don’t know what you found on her computer, but Darla’s facts were wrong. I’m not now nor have I ever been"-her back teeth ground together as she gritted-"crazy." No, she just saw monsters. But the monsters were real.
"A story like that, it would have ruined your practice."
Doubtful. Emily snorted. It probably would have just given her more business. It would have been as close to advertising for Other patients as she could get. "It wouldn’t have effected me."
"Bullshit."
Colin rolled his shoulders, narrowed his eyes. "Watch it."
"Darla was going to ruin your career, tell the world about the little girl who’d hallucinated, whose mom sent her to a psych ward because she didn’t want a crazy kid."
Emily stepped forward, punched her finger in his chest. "Listen up, Brooks. I told you already, I’m not crazy. Darla’s story wouldn’t have done a damn thing to my career because the story would never have run. She didn’t have any facts to back up her wild ideas, okay?" Oh, the man was starting to royally piss her off.
She didn’t want a crazy kid.
That hit just a little too close to home.
And it made her even angrier. "I don’t have to listen to any more of this crap. I’m working this case with you, Detective. I didn’t kill Darla Mitchell."
"Then tell me where you were between 8 and 10."
"At. My. Mother’s. 2801 Terrace Lane. Check it out. Go ask her. Interview her neighbors. I’m sure someone saw me."
He pulled out a small notebook. Scribbled something down. The address, no doubt. Asshole.
"Now if you’re done interrogating me, I’m going to shower." Before she gave into the impulse rushing through her and slugged him.
Being accused of ripping out a reporter’s throat first thing in the morning had sure screwed up her mood.
Emily didn’t wait for him to answer. She spun on her heel and stormed from the room.
The bathroom door slammed.
Colin stared at his partner, shook his head. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Very carefully, Brooks folded his notebook. Tucked it in his jacket pocket. "I was thinking we have a murder to solve and that your girlfriend has a hell of a motive."
"Two murders," Colin corrected, trying hard to keep the anger out of his voice. "Two murders with the exact MO. What, you think Emily had a motive for offing Preston too?"
"I think she’s linked to him. I haven’t connected the pieces yet, but I will."
"What? The doc had nothing to do-"
"Her place was trashed last night, wasn’t it? Just like Gillian Nemont’s."
Exactly like Gillian’s.
"What are the odds of that?" Brooks asked quietly. "What are the odds that both Dr. Drake’s place and Gillian’s would get trashed?"
Colin didn’t reply. Cause he’d been wondering the same thing.
"I think she’s holding out on us. She knows something, or else-"
"Or else what?"
"She’s involved."
Shit. "You saw the bodies. There’s no way Emily could have done that." No, she’d been horrified when she’d seen the victims and the blood.
"The facts aren’t adding up. Not one damn bit." Brooks began pacing around the room. "The case smells to high heaven. And I know, I know I’m being kept in the dark." He rounded on Colin. "And I don’t like it."
Colin glared right back at him. "And I don’t like it when my partner comes here at dawn and starts harassing my lover."
"I don’t trust her."
I do. "No one’s asked you to."
"I’m checking out her alibi. You coming with me or not?"
"Right now, not." Hell, his eyes were still sandy from sleep. And Emily was pissed, and in the shower, naked.
But he had a fucking job to do, and on this case he couldn’t afford to have anyone questioning his motives. Or his lover’s. "Give me an hour. I’ll meet you at the station." He’d have to clear Emily so that Brooks would drop this lame-ass theory.