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  Oh shit. Every muscle in Colin’s body tightened. Other was the general term for any magical being, a catch-all phrase that had evolved years ago.

  His eyes squeezed closed and he began to sweat. The doc could tell if you were Other just be being near you? If that were true, then he was seriously screwed.

  No one on the force knew about him. And if anyone found out, if the captain were to learn—

  “I can tell,” Emily finally spoke, and her voice was just as quiet as McNeal’s. “If the death is recent, some of the spirit will still be there.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn. His eyes snapped open. The woman could tell if a dead guy was human or Other. Then she had to know about him.

  But why hadn’t she said anything? She’d gotten into his Jeep, as calm as you please, driven for miles, and never said a word about him being—

  “The guy died less than two hours ago.”

  “Then I can tell.”

  “I’m also gonna need an idea of what did this.”

  What, not who, Colin noticed. He’d seen the body earlier, and he knew exactly why his captain was suspecting that the killer hadn’t necessarily been human.

  “I’ll do my best,” Emily promised.

  McNeal grunted. Then, “Colin, come here!”

  Colin glanced back over his shoulder, carefully avoiding Emily’s stare. He’d deal with her later.

  McNeal motioned toward the door. “Show her the vic.”

  He sauntered up the steps, brushed his body lightly against hers as he passed. “Hope you’ve got a strong stomach.” It was all the warning he’d give her. He didn’t think she’d be able to handle the body inside too well. Colin could still smell the stench of vomit from the first two green cops who’d found the victim.

  He led her inside, past the gleaming parquet flooring in the foyer, past the spiral staircase, and straight to the body.

  Or what was left of it.

  “Oh my God!” She sucked in a sharp breath. Stumbled to a stop near the puddle of congealed blood.

  He glanced at her face then. The color had bleached away. And her eyes, so big, so wide, were full of horror.

  The impulse to touch her, to comfort her, rushed through him. His hand lifted.

  She fell to her knees beside the body.

  His fingers balled into a fist, dropped to his side.

  A faint tremble shook her. She stared at the man’s body. Gazed at his face, at the eyes that were wide open, staring at the ceiling in abject terror, at the mouth that was contorted in a final, silent scream.

  Then her focus shifted to his neck, to the neck that had been ripped wide open.

  “I-I need to see Captain McNeal.” She rose to her feet, swaying for a moment.

  Is the guy human? His teeth snapped together as he bit back the question. It was his damn case. He needed as much information as he could get, and he didn’t want the doc and the captain keeping him in the dark.

  He had a killer to find, and whether the guy was just a crazy-ass human or something more, he needed all the information about the perp he could get.

  He lifted his hand, motioned for McNeal, and watched as his captain hurried across the room.

  “Ah, Colin, can you excuse us for a minute?” He reached for Emily’s arm.

  Colin stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his move. “I wanna hear what she’s got to say.” His eyes met McNeal’s.

  A muscle flexed along McNeal’s jaw. “I’ll let you know the doctor’s opinion—”

  Not good enough.

  Emily pushed past him, stopped beside the captain.

  Colin slanted a quick glance at her, then said, “I wanna know what the Monster Doctor thinks.”

  She jerked, a slight but telling movement.

  So did the captain.

  McNeal’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you know?”

  “Enough.” Most folks didn’t know about the creatures that lived right next to the humans, didn’t know about the dangerous world that existed in the shadows.

  People thought monsters lived in horror movies. Thought that life was about birthday parties, Christmas trees, and summer vacations.

  But he knew better. Hell, he’d lived most of his life in the darkness that everyone else feared. He knew the smell of evil, had seen firsthand just how perverted the world could be.

  Yeah, he knew about the monsters.

  After all, he was one of them.

  McNeal glanced around at the other cops. At least five other officers—three men, two women—were in the room. He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen.

  Emily nodded her understanding and led the way to the white swinging door.

  No cops were inside. The kitchen had already been cleared.

  McNeal waited until the door swung shut behind Colin, then he growled, “This doesn’t go past the three of us, got that, Gyth?”

  Colin nodded.

  “Good.” McNeal leveled his stare at Emily. “Well?”

  “He was human.”

  A grunt. “Good. At least I don’t have to worry about the ME finding two hearts inside the guy….” He blew out a hard breath. “After a couple of times, those explanations get harder to make.”

  Yeah, he just bet they did. Colin kept his attention on Emily. “So, Doc, any ideas about what might have done that to him?”

  She nibbled her lower lip for a moment, then said, “It could have been an animal attack, maybe a dog—”

  But the captain was shaking his head. “The owner of the house has one of those fancy security systems with cameras trained on the doors. We’ve got a picture of the perp—a guy in a black hood who was smart enough to keep his damn face hidden—and there’s no animal with him.”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed.

  “So what do you think, Doc?” Colin pressed. “What kind of thing could have done this?”

  Her head cocked to the side and she studied him with that too-knowing gaze of hers. “Well, Detective,” she finally murmured, “the way I figure it, there are three prime suspects.”

  He didn’t speak, just waited for her.

  She held up one finger. “A vampire.”

  A second finger. “A demon.”

  Third finger. “Or”—she stared straight into his eyes—“a shifter.”

  “A shifter?” McNeal whistled softly. “What kind of shifter would do that?”

  Her shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. “A bear. A panther, any kind of wildcat really, or…a wolf.” Her green eyes were still on him. Watching, weighing.

  Judging.

  With an effort, Colin managed not to squirm.

  McNeal made a faint hmmming sound. “Is there any way to tell for certain?”

  “The ME might be able to tell if it’s a shifter.” She pulled off her glasses, polished them absently on her shirt.

  Colin blinked. Oh, he liked her without the glasses. She looked softer, sweeter, like—

  “He can look for animal hairs. Compare the radius of the bite marks to let us know what we’re looking at.”

  Colin raised his brows, impressed. The doc might specialize in mind games, but she knew a bit of forensics too.

  Her gaze drifted to the white door that stood between them and the den, between them and the body. “There is so much rage here,” she whispered softly. “I can feel the echoes.”

  And just how the hell could she do that?

  The doc was a bigger mystery, and a hell of a bigger threat to him, than he’d originally thought.

  “You have to find this guy.” She swallowed, straightened her shoulders and seemed to shake off a heavy weight. “Before he does this again.”

  Colin stiffened. “Again?” He repeated softly. So far, they just had one body. Sure, the killer had obviously been in a fury—there was blood everywhere, pooled near the victim, smeared on the walls, the furniture, but that didn’t mean they were dealing with a serial—

  “He’ll do it again.” She sounded absolutely certain.

  McNeal swore beneath
his breath. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Colin stepped toward her, stepped right in front of her so that barely an inch separated them. “And how do you know that?”

  “Because now he’s gotten a taste for the kill.” Her gaze held his. Her breath blew lightly across his skin. Her scent, the light, fragrant scent of roses, filled the air around him. “Once a creature like this gets a taste, there’s no going back.”

  The good doctor sure as hell sounded like she knew what she was talking about. But he hoped, hoped with every fiber of his being, that she was wrong.

  Because if one of his kind really was off on a killing spree, then the humans were screwed.

  Chapter 2

  She couldn’t get the dead man out of her head.

  Emily stared blankly at the flickering TV screen, a bowl of Dutch chocolate ice cream in her lap, a spoon gripped tightly in her fist.

  She’d left the crime scene long ago. Been driven back to her office by one of the patrolmen on duty. She’d thanked the fellow, very politely, then gotten into her car and traveled home. And she’d been shaking the whole time.

  Dammit. It wasn’t as if that had been the first dead body she’d ever seen.

  She’d found her grandmother after her heart attack, and her father after his suicide.

  She stabbed the spoon down into the rapidly melting chocolate. No, it hadn’t been her first dead body, but the sight had still hit her like a punch in the gut.

  Jesus. There had been so much blood.

  And she currently had four vamps as patients, so it wasn’t as if she weren’t used to dealing with blood. Every time she touched their thoughts, images of blood took center stage.

  But tonight, that man…he’d been different. The vamps she saw treated blood like it was sacred. To them, blood was life.

  Yet when she’d seen the crime scene, the blood had meant nothing more than death.

  I have to stop thinking about the body. Emily took a big bite of the ice cream, feeing the cold, delicious chocolate slide over her tongue.

  Her toes curled into her carpet. Oh, that was better. That was—

  A flash of headlights lit up her living room.

  What in the hell?

  She pushed the bowl of ice cream onto her coffee table, rose quickly, and turned toward her window. Through the thin curtains, she could see a vehicle pulling into her driveway.

  The purring of the engine reached her ears, followed by the faint crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

  Her gaze darted back toward her TV stand, locking briefly on the VCR clock. Two-thirteen A.M.

  Who would be coming to visit her at two A.M.?

  A car door slammed. Footsteps rapped against her sidewalk.

  The image of a blood-soaked room flashed before her eyes. The image of death, of a man’s final, terrified scream.

  Her doorbell rang.

  Emily crept toward the door, moving almost soundlessly over the carpet. She pressed her hands against the wooden door, leaned forward, peered through the peephole, and saw—Detective Colin Gyth. He was standing just on the other side of her door, illuminated by the porch light.

  Her breath expelled in a nervous rush. Okay. She should probably be glad that a cop—instead of a robber or some kind of crazed killer—had come to see her in the middle of the night. But Detective Gyth…

  He just wasn’t your average cop.

  And the guy made her very, very uneasy.

  She opened the bottom lock but kept her security chain in place as she opened the door two inches. Enough room for them to talk, but nothing else. “Detective Gyth?”

  He stepped closer. The light dipped across his face, making him look somewhat sinister.

  Oh yeah, like she needed that visual right then.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She’d figured that out, considering the guy had driven all the way to her place—and really, just how had he known where I lived? He must’ve had her checked out, she realized. Probably when Danny had first told him to contact her.

  “Dr. Drake?” He lifted his hand, touched his palm to the door. “Let me in.”

  She didn’t want to. Every instinct she had screamed at her. Letting Gyth inside would be a very serious mistake.

  “I don’t want to cause a scene”—his dark voice was pitched low—“but if I have to wake your neighbors to get inside, I’ll do it.”

  Her chin lifted. “I don’t like being threatened, Detective.” She started to push the door closed. She had only two immediate neighbors. One was out of town—the family had gone on a vacation to Disney World. The other, well, there was no way Shirley was home yet.

  “Wait!” His palm shoved against the door, effectively halting her movement. His eyes met hers. “Would you please let me come inside?”

  Umm, now that sounded like it must’ve hurt. But she still wasn’t budging. “What do you want?”

  “I told you, I need to talk to you.”

  Yeah, and so did all of her patients, but she wasn’t inviting them inside her house in the middle of the night.

  “It’s about the case.”

  He had her attention.

  “All right.” Her fingers fumbled with the chain. “You can come in for five minutes. Got that? It’s late, I want to sleep, and you can just come in for—”

  He pushed open the door, stepped inside, his big body forcing hers back. His thumb lifted, rubbed against her bottom lip. Then he brought his hand to his mouth and licked the tip of his thumb. “Mmmm…”

  She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. He hadn’t just—

  His lips tilted into a smile. “I love chocolate.” His gaze dropped down to her lips. “Mind if I have another taste?”

  Emily stepped back, ramming into the wall. Her heart was suddenly beating too fast. Her palms were damp, and that tight, hot feeling was back in her stomach again. And all he’d done was touch her lips.

  Oh no, she could not want this man.

  Getting involved with a shifter would be pure idiocy.

  She swiped her hand over her lips, trying to rub away any ice cream that might be left. Didn’t want to leave any temptation for him.

  “Hmmm. Guess that’s a no, huh?” Colin sighed, glancing back toward her living room.

  “It’s a definite no.” Despite the little voice in her head that wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like if he kissed her.

  Emily inhaled sharply. It was late, she was getting loopy, and she was most definitely not finding the shifter attractive.

  “Is it because of what I am?” He asked the question as he turned his back on her and sauntered into her living room.

  “What?” She shook her head, hurriedly slammed and locked the front door, and followed on his heels. “I thought you came by to discuss the case.”

  “Umm.” Not really an answer. He made himself comfortable on her sofa, put his boots on her coffee table. “Nice. Real comfortable place you’ve got.” His stare swept around the room, noting the bookcases, the light yellow walls, the big-screen TV. “I like it.”

  Well, that was just great.

  Damn. She should have never let him in.

  “You and I have a problem, Doc.” He turned that bright blue stare back on her as she stood at the edge of the couch, glowering down at him.

  Emily stared at him silently, waiting.

  “You know what I am.” His voice roughened slightly as he made this announcement.

  She didn’t deny it. What would be the point?

  His eyes narrowed fractionally as he studied her expression. “That’s not good for me. Not good at all.”

  A flicker of nervousness shot through her. She wasn’t sensing any sort of physical threat from the cop, but maybe she just wasn’t looking deep enough into him.

  His hand snagged her wrist.

  And her pulse skyrocketed beneath his grip.

  “How much do you know?”

  Emily swallowed, tried to figure out just how much she s
hould reveal.

  His hold tightened around her.

  He was the one sitting down, the one forced to look up at her, but Emily had the feeling she was the one in the vulnerable position. “I-I know you aren’t human.” Her voice came out softer, huskier than she’d intended.

  She hoped Colin would leave it at that. Hoped he wouldn’t probe any deeper.

  “Ah, baby, I already knew that.”

  She tried to tug her hand free, but his grip was unbreakable.

  “You’re the Monster Doctor, the one all the local ghouls go to see.” A faint trace of amusement underscored his words. But his eyes were watchful, intense, showing no echo of humor.

  Her jaw clenched. “Let go of my hand.”

  He smiled at her, and his fingers fell away from her wrist.

  Emily immediately sprang across the room, putting several feet between them. Nice, protective space. “Look, if you aren’t here to discuss the case, then I want you to leave.” She turned her back on him, heading toward the front door.

  “How do you do it?”

  His words stopped her.

  “How do you tell who’s human and who isn’t?”

  She heard the soft rustle of the sofa cushions as he rose.

  “That’s a pretty interesting talent you’ve got there. And I’m just dying to know exactly how you do it.”

  Emily cast a longing glance toward the front door. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to live with your curiosity, Detective.” Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to reveal her innermost secrets to a stranger. Yep, letting the guy inside had been a definite mistake.

  “Hmmm.” His breath blew against the nape of her neck. Emily jumped, startled to find him so close to her. The guy hadn’t made a sound when he’d crossed the room.

  “I’d like to see your hair down,” he muttered, and his fingers brushed against the bun she’d yet to unwind.

  She jerked away from him. “And I’d like to see you leave. Guess which one of us is about to get her wish?”