Gyth caught his stare, and, smart bastard, read the warning in Niol’s eyes. He lifted his hands, palms up, and stepped away from Holly.
Niol glided toward Holly. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and-
Comfort her?
What the hell?
“What happened to him?” Holly repeated, her voice stronger and her eyes helplessly returning to the body. “His face, it’s been-”
Carved up. Cut with perfect precision. Long, slim slices.
Smith yanked the sheet back over him. “So you can identify the victim.”
A nod. “It’s Sam.”
Or what was left of him.
Niol’s nostrils twitched. He tried to shove the stench of blood and bleach out of his system as he focused on the body. There had to be something there, a scent left by the killer-
From the corner of his eye, he saw Holly sway.
He was on her in less than a second. Grabbing her, pulling her tightly against his chest.
And she fit, dammit. Her body matched his perfectly, and she felt right.
Even when she shuddered. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Unlike him, she wasn’t used to dead bodies. Not enough dead bodies at her crime scenes.
If she intended to keep working the case, though, she’d get used to them. Fast.
He pushed her toward the door. They’d seen the body. Holly had completed the whole good-citizen routine. No sense wasting more time.
The door flew open with the force of Holly’s shove. She stumbled ahead of him. Poor human. She’d had one hell of day. Hit-and-run. Dead body.
Him.
The light shone on the tiled floor. “Thanks, Niol,” she muttered and some of the real Holly stared back at him from her green eyes. “I never thought I’d say this but I needed you in-”
“Not so fast, Ms. Storm.” The shifter’s voice. Quiet. Hard.
Niol glanced back at him. He had questions for the shifter, questions he’d rather not ask in front of a reporter.
Because while he wanted Holly like hell on fire-and he sure knew about hell-Niol didn’t trust her.
He didn’t trust anyone.
And that was why he was still alive.
Well, one of the reasons.
The human, Brooks, stepped out beside Gyth. “We’re gonna need to see you for a while in Interrogation.” A pause. “Both of you.”
Fuck.
They separated them. Stupid human manipulation. As if being apart would make them turn on each other. Spill secrets.
They had no secrets to spill.
The shifter stayed with him. Locked eyes on him and just stared.
Niol stared back.
After ten minutes, the cop spoke. “You killin’ your own kind again, demon?”
A shrug. He was sprawled in the chair, legs out in front of him, shoulders slumped.
Where was Holly? She’d handle herself; he knew she’d be fine. Once she shook off the horror of that dead body, Holly Storm would snap back to action.
But he wanted her close by. The better to watch and protect.
“Sam Miters was a demon, wasn’t he?” Gyth’s arms were crossed over his chest. Niol figured the guy was supposed to be intimidating, but he was just annoying.
Niol raised his brows. “Did the Monster Doctor tell you that?” The Monster Doctor, Dr. Emily Drake, the psychologist in town who treated all the Other with their myriad of problems. She could tell a paranormal with just one look. The lady could even recognize the power of the dead ones.
Handy little trick. One he’d like to have.
As it stood in the paranormal world, generally, like recognized like. He could stare right through the glamour that disguised most of his kind and find the demon beneath the skin. He knew witches felt the power surge when their kin were close. Shifters-they could smell their brethren, damn strong senses.
But Emily Drake, a human, she could discover all their secrets in less than a few seconds’ time.
And the fact that she was sleeping with the detective, well, that meant he had pretty much immediate access to Emily’s wonderfully interesting mind-and her powers.
“Don’t concern yourself with Emily,” Gyth growled.
Ah. Some real emotion from the detective. He was a possessive bastard, but most wolf shifters were. Possessive, and often psychotic.
“Why’d you do it? Why him? Did he piss you off?”
Niol sighed. He really didn’t have time for this crap. He needed to get Holly and get her home. Then he had to start hunting a killer. “Don’t look to me for this one.” His hands weren’t clean of blood, but, this time, the crime wasn’t his.
“Then who?” Gyth grabbed the chair across from Niol. Twisted it around and straddled it. “That first night, you knew the kid, and I think you knew who killed him, too.”
The detective was getting warmer, but still damn off track.
“Tell me, Niol, tell me. What the hell is going on in this city? Why am I stumbling over dead demons? And why are you sniffing around Storm?”
Because I want to sniff her. Sniff her, kiss her, take her. But that was none of the detective’s business.
“Don’t look to me,” Niol said again and rose. This interrogation was over. He didn’t have to put up with this shit.
“Then who?” A snarl.
“The humans, shifter. This time, the killer’s one of them.” He’d bet on it.
A human, killing demons.
The world just wasn’t safe anymore.
“Why’d Sam have your card?”
Holly blinked and tried to shove the image of Sam’s ravaged face out of her mind.
But she knew she’d be seeing that image in her nightmares for months.
Christ. Sam. “He-he was one of my sources.” No sense lying. She rubbed her eyes. Dammit, she hurt . Her body ached, her heart felt like it had been ripped out, and she wanted to get out of the cramped interrogation room with the flickering light that made her temples throb and just go back to the safety of her house.
“What kind of information was Sam feeding you?”
Her fingers dug into her forehead and she didn’t look at Todd Brooks. The guy was human, like her, but he was also very heavily involved in the demon world.
The guy’s girlfriend was a succubus, so yeah, in Holly’s book, that qualified as involved.
“Ms. Storm?” The groan of a chair’s legs as he yanked back the chair next to her and sat close, crowding her.
She hated being crowded.
“Just what kind of information was Sam giving you?”
Her hand dropped and she met his stare. That deceptively warm, I’ll-be-your-friend, come-on-trust-me brown stare. The good cop, to Colin Gyth’s badass. Right. Holly almost snorted. Both cops knew the game, and they’d do anything to catch their prey.
And now they thought she was that prey. “Sam was a demon.” She didn’t glance toward the shining mirror on the right wall. She knew somebody had to be behind that glass, watching her. Holly just hoped it was someone who knew the score, and not some paper pusher who was gonna try to get her committed to Reed Infirmary’s Psych ward in the next hour. “He was teaching me about his world.” Feeding her bits of information, one tiny crumb at a time.
He swore, then muttered, “Couldn’t you leave ’em alone? They nearly killed you before-”
“Not they.” Her jaw was clenched and she gritted the words. “ He. One man.” Not all demons were killers; she’d learned that. Just as she’d learned all humans, even those who wore badges, weren’t to be trusted.
Just seven months ago, her cheating ex-fiancé had sure hammered that lesson home.
Holly drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. Todd wanted her to lose her cool. The guy thought she was involved in the murders, and, okay, she could even see where he was coming from. She’d been on the scene of the first crime, she’d known the guy was a demon-she’d known him . Carl had been one of her sources, just like Sam. Wouldn’t take a genius to connect the lines back to her.
But she hadn’t killed them. “Sam wasn’t a bad guy, okay? He was getting clean.” She sure knew how hard that had been. She’d watched her brother fight that battle, and fail. “He was harmless, he was-”