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Chapter 14

The door squeaked softly when she entered the small interrogation room. Bryan Trace looked up at her approach, his eyes flaring. "What the hell is she doing here?" He started to rise, but Colin clamped his hand down on the boy’s shoulder again and held him in his seat.

Her stomach was in knots. Her knees shaking. But Emily calmly walked across the small room. A chair was waiting for her. A chair right across from the would-be demon hunter.

Emily sat down. Stared at him. And waited.

She didn’t have to wait long.

"Keep her away from me," he muttered, rocking back and forth in his seat as he stared at her. A trickle of sweat slid down his temple. "She’s a fucking demon! Can’t you see that?"

Emily pushed her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. "When you look at me, Bryan, what do you see?"

He opened his mouth, blinked, shook his head. "It’s a trick, it’s a-"

"Do I have horns?" Course, only the really, really old demons had those. "A pointed tail? Glowing eyes?"

"You’re mocking me," he gritted.

"No, I’m trying to understand you." And she was. "What makes you think I’m a demon? That Preston was a demon? Gillian? Darla?"

"You’re tricking me," he said again, glancing nervously around the room. "It’s not gonna work. I know what you are!"

"A demon."

A quick, jerky nod.

"How do you know?" She pitched her voice low, tried to soothe. "How do you know who is a demon and who isn’t?"

"I–I just do."

Emily leaned across the table. Tapped the crime scene photo of Darla. "You sure she was a demon? Cause she just looks like a dead woman to me."

His gaze dropped to the photo. His lips trembled. "I didn’t do that."

"But I thought you were a hunter." She kept her voice calm. "And hunters kill, don’t they?"

"I–I was watching."

"Watching? You weren’t just watching with me." Her hand rose to her cheek. Lightly touched the bruise. His bright stare shot to her cheek.

"I–I was warning-"

Time to push him over the edge. "Warning me? Or trying to kill me…the way you did the others?"

"I didn’t kill them! I was watching, learning-"

Learning. Her heart was thumping like crazy. "Learning what?" Emily asked softly. Brooks and Colin were silent, watchful. And Colin still had his hand clamped on Bryan’s shoulder. "Learning our routines? Learning when we were alone, when we weren’t?" It was the only thing that made sense.

Bryan didn’t reply.

"Someone told you to watch us, right, Bryan?"

He turned to his lawyer. "I don’t want to talk to this demon bitch anymore."

James raised his brows. "You heard my client."

Dammit. Emily sucked in a sharp breath. The boy was stubborn. Scared to death. And not talking.

She wet her lips. There was one other method she could try.

Her psychic gift had never worked with humans. She couldn’t read them like she did the Other, and she’d only been able to pick up the barest of impressions in the past, but she didn’t have anything to lose by trying.

She inhaled deeply, exhaled. Kept her eyes locked on Bryan. And slowly lowered her mental shields.

She shouldn’t be here. Bastard marked her. Can see his fingers on her neck. She shouldn’t-

Colin’s thoughts hit her like a train, slamming into her mind with the force of his fury behind them.

Emily drew in another deep breath, tried to shift her focus away from him.

Kid’s lying. We’ve got to break him. I don’t want a dead cop on tomorrow’s news.

McNeal.

Another breath. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Bryan. Colin and McNeal’s thoughts became a distant buzz in her mind.

She couldn’t hear any thoughts from the boy. Couldn’t feel any emotions. She could see his fear and anger, see it on his face, but she couldn’t feel anything.

Catch had tried to teach her to hone her gift. During her "therapy" sessions, they’d spent hours trying to strengthen her abilities. But the lessons had never seemed to take.

She stared into Bryan’s eyes, stared straight into his black pupils and tried to put every ounce of her power into forming a link with him. The air seemed to thicken around her. To tighten and-

Emily jerked back, gasping. "He told you we were demons."

Bryan shook his head. "You don’t know-"

Emily stood. She’d gotten only a vague impression from the boy. But it was all she’d need. She glanced at James. "Your client needs serious counseling. He’s not competent for trial." No, he wasn’t competent. And it would take years to get him back to some semblance of normalcy.

Because a demon had been playing with his head. Twisting his thoughts. Using him.

She hadn’t been able to touch Bryan’s mind. The human mind was closed to her. But she’d touched the remnants of a demon’s power.

A very powerful demon.

She needed to talk with Colin and McNeal. Because either they were looking for two monsters who were working together or the killer was one damn strong hybrid.

A demon/shifter hybrid.

It was the deadliest combination she could think of, and the one guaranteed to bring a wake of murder and destruction to the city.

Something is wrong with Emily. Colin waited until another detective tagged out with him before he followed her out of the interrogation room.

She was standing next to McNeal, whispering furiously.

His insides tightened at the strained expression on her face. Oh yeah, something is definitely up.

He stalked toward and fought the urge to pull Emily against him. Now wasn’t the time.

When Trace had attacked her, the beast had snarled within him, and he’d thought, for one terrible, timeless moment, that he was going to shift. Right there, in front of a dozen cops.

But his control had held. He’d told Emily that the man controlled the beast. So far, that statement had been true in his life. He was realizing, though, that if anyone could make him lose control, it would be Emily.

"What the hell do you mean, two killers?"

"I don’t-" She broke off, glancing up at Colin’s approach. "Good. I wanted to talk to you."

And he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than talk to her. "What’s happening?"

"During interrogation, umm, I—" She flushed, looking vaguely guilty and admitted, "I dropped my mental shields and tried to touch Bryan’s mind."

"But he’s human." A pause. "Isn’t he?" The kid didn’t smell like a shifter. He just smelled like prey. The way most humans did.

Except Emily.

She smelled like…roses. Cream. Woman.

"Yeah, he’s human. And I couldn’t read a thing from him." She licked her lips. "But I felt the trace of power."

"Whose power?" McNeal asked sharply.

"A demon’s. High level." She glanced around quickly to make certain they weren’t being overheard. "Some demons can control humans, if they’re strong enough. Make them into puppets."

"The possessed." McNeal nodded, apparently familiar with the term.

"Right. I–I think that’s what happened with Bryan. He honestly doesn’t know why he thinks I’m a demon. He doesn’t know why he’s supposed to follow me. He just does."

"Because some all-powerful demon put the idea in his head?" Colin frowned. "Look, that sounds crazy as-"

"It’s happened before. Many, many times. Demons kill this way-they keep their hands clean and let their puppets do the dirty work." Emily met his gaze. "It even happened to me once."

When she’d nearly been put into a coma.

"I was able to fight the guy off, but someone without my psychic gift, he’d be helpless."

Possessed.

"So this punk’s been stalking, sorry, hunting, because some demon put it in his head that was his duty?" Sounded like bullshit. Damn. Why couldn’t the cases be easy anymore?