Midnight's Master Page 7

  And he was more than used to doing exactly as he wanted.

  So he took her mouth.

  A deep, long kiss. Lips and tongue. Craving. Hunger.

  Her lips were warm and soft, and her response—fuck.

  She kissed him with fury. With wild need.

  Nothing tentative about her.

  His cock, already semiaroused, swelled against the front of his jeans.

  He wanted her naked. The bed was close. He could take her into the bedroom. Strip her, and make the fantasy he’d been suggesting into a reality.

  It would be so easy.

  Holly pushed against him, her nails biting into his chest.

  Maybe not.

  His head raised. He could still taste her sweetness on his tongue.

  “What is it that you want from me, Niol?”

  Everything.

  “I want to stop the killer, same as you.” He forced his hands to free her and he stepped back. He’d been careful not to jar her. He didn’t want to hurt her.

  She must have felt his cock straining against her when they’d kissed. The woman knew she’d gotten him turned on and ready.

  But he’d pulled back.

  For now. “So what’s it gonna be, love? Do you want to hunt with me?”

  “Yes.” Instant. “But we do this together, you got me, demon? No more secrets, no more lies. Together.”

  He wasn’t going to make any promises. His life was all about secrets and lies.

  “Then welcome to the wild side, Holly.” She’d better get ready for one rough ride.

  Chapter 5

  Breaking and entering generally wasn’t Holly’s idea of a good time. Sure, when she’d been eighteen, she’d once had a boyfriend who’d been fresh out of juvie and he’d taught her some lock tricks, but she hadn’t exactly planned on spending her grown-up nights breaking the law.

  But it wasn’t like she had much choice right then.

  “Tell me again,” Niol said softly, “just what the hell we’re doing here.”

  Here was on the steps of a small brick house on the outskirts of Atlanta. A house Holly had visited once before, with Carl Bronx.

  “Carl’s parents owned this place.” Her gaze swept the street. “They moved a few years back, left it to him. He had a place downtown, but he liked to stay here sometimes.”

  She’d thought of the house on Sycamore right before her evening news broadcast and realized that while the police had undoubtedly already searched Carl’s studio apartment, they might not have had a chance to get into this place.

  Or maybe they didn’t even know about it yet.

  Holly drew in a deep breath. She felt better, her muscles not as stiff and sore. Already, many of her bruises and scratches had healed. Her wrist didn’t even hurt anymore. She was feeling pretty damn good.

  Lucky for her, she’d always been a fast healer.

  She’d slept most of the day away. Slept, and had nightmares about Sam. Yet every time she’d woken, a cry on her lips, the heavy weight of sleep had pulled her back into the dark world of blood and fear.

  She couldn’t escape the dead, not even in her sleep.

  After her broadcast, she’d called Niol and told him that she needed his help. Because if she was about to go snooping into a dead man’s house, well, with the crazy shit happening in this town, she wanted backup.

  And what better backup could she get than her all-powerful demon?

  He’d picked her up, followed her directions, and now stood with her on the stone steps of the house. Holly flipped up the welcome mat, hoping to find a spare key.

  “Love, if you want inside, all you have to do is ask…” Soft.

  She shivered. From the cold, had to be. The night air carried a definite chill.

  Sure, it was the cold. And not because the guy’s voice was sexy.

  Her hands rose to her hips. “I’m asking, demon.”

  He glanced at the door. Narrowed his eyes. She felt that strange thickness in the air again. She’d felt it at the station and at the house, right before her mother’s vase had shattered.

  A soft click sounded and the door swung open.

  “Nice.” She said, and this time, meant it. Demons could be handy. Holly strode forward—

  And Niol’s grip on her shoulder had her jerking to a halt.

  She glanced at him, brows lowered.

  “Powerful demon.” He pointed to his chest. “Human.” Hers.

  Growling, she inched back, and let the big, bad demon stride inside first. If there was a nutjob in there with a really big, really sharp knife, she wasn’t going to argue with the merits of having a level-ten powerhouse take the first steps inside.

  Her mother hadn’t raised a fool.

  The house was tomb quiet and the air tasted a bit stale. Niol flipped on the lights, exposing the worn furniture, the old TV.

  “So, are your spider senses doing a tingle?” She asked him, glancing at the shadowed rooms to the left and right.

  He raised a brow and stared back at her.

  Holly tried not to notice just how strong his jaw looked and just how dark his hair was.

  His eyes—they didn’t disconcert her anymore. Midnight pools, swimming with secrets and emotions. Staring into those eyes—too tempting.

  “My spider senses?” He repeated.

  She motioned with one hand toward the rest of the house. “That super hearing and vision you’ve got.” Not shifter level, but so much better than her own. “Is this place safe?”

  “Safe enough.”

  That was good enough for her. Her shoulders relaxed. “Then let’s hurry. I want to search this house, fast, before that shifter cop or his good buddy pull up.” A clue. One small lead, that was all she’d need to find.

  Searching Carl’s place in the city would be a waste of time. Anything important, Gyth would have already bagged and tagged it, and the shifter wasn’t the sharing sort.

  But maybe, just maybe, Carl had brought some information here. If he’d really been worried, as Niol had said, maybe he would have come someplace where he felt safe and—

  Niol walked away and began pushing through some papers on the kitchen table. “Wait!” She reached into her back pocket and tossed him a pair of latex gloves.

  He caught the gloves and gave her a what-the-hell look.

  “The cops will find this place eventually. We don’t want to leave prints behind.”

  He gave a faint “hmmmm,” then said, “Love, this isn’t your first break-in, is it?”

  Holly wasn’t going to answer that one. Pulling on her own set of gloves, she glanced around the den and spotted an old desk nestled in the corner.

  “Just what are we looking for?” Niol called.

  “Anything that doesn’t belong.”

  She thought she heard him swear.

  Holly jerked open the top drawer. Pushed aside some bills. Opened the second—

  And found a brown envelope with Carl’s name scrawled across the front.

  Her fingers were rock steady when she reached for the envelope. She pulled out a photo, one that had her heart thumping into her chest, then she saw the note.

  “Niol.”

  He was at her side in an instant.

  Not steady anymore, her fingers shook when she lifted the photo. A shot of her and Carl, sitting on a park bench, heads bent close as they talked. “The note—the note was with the picture.”

  He reached for the note. “Fuck.”

  The impure will die.

  Niol balled the note up in his fist. “Now do you believe me? One of your precious humans is out there, slaughtering demons.”

  Holly couldn’t deny that it sure looked that way. The impure. But how had the killer known? Christ, had she given away Carl’s secret?

  Sam’s?

  Beside her, Niol stiffened. “We’ve got to go.” He grabbed the envelope and stuffed the note and photo back inside. Then he shoved the envelope into his coat pocket.

  “What are you doing? Y
ou can’t—”

  “Oh, right, cause the lady who wanted to break and enter is suddenly getting morals on me.”

  Her lips parted.

  “I’ve got friends at the department, okay? I’ll get a finger-print check on it—any damn thing we need, I’ll get. Now, come on.” His fingers locked around her arm and he hauled her toward the door.

  Then they were outside, the air biting into her skin. Their feet thudded over the steps and—

  “What the hell are you people doin’ here?” A gruff voice demanded, and an old man, shoulders hunched, stepped from the shadows near the side of the house, armed with a shotgun.

  Oh, shit.

  Niol pushed her behind him. “Lower the weapon.” His voice shook with fury.

  The man’s mouth fell open and the barrel of the gun immediately dropped toward the ground.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Niol said, “Stay behind me, for every step, got it?”

  If the guy wanted to get between her and a bullet, she wasn’t gonna argue right then. Holly nodded.

  He turned back to the guy. “Don’t move.” Power vibrated in his voice.

  The guy didn’t so much as blink. Distaste had Holly’s mouth drying up. Compulsion. Control. She knew exactly what Niol was doing to the man who stared blankly forward, eyes wide and frightened, but body still.

  She’d been like him, once. Trapped by a demon’s power. Helpless. A puppet.

  “Niol…”

  “He can’t remember us.” Softer. “When the cops find this place, we can’t risk him telling them about us.”

  She knew that, dammit, but it still didn’t make what he was doing right. “Don’t hurt him.”

  A faint nod. “You don’t see us. You never saw us.” Dark, insidious, his voice flowed in the night.

  The man didn’t move.

  They started walking, moving slowly down the remaining steps and toward the car.

  The old man watched them, gun still lowered.

  Holly jumped in the passenger side. Niol slammed the door behind her, then turned back to face the guy once more. “Go home,” he ordered. “Sleep, and forget you even came outside tonight.”

  The guy turned on his heel, marched back into the thicket of bushes, and vanished.

  She exhaled.

  Niol climbed in beside her. Didn’t speak.

  Neither did she.

  He gunned the motor and they got the hell out of there.

  Fuck.

  Niol braked in front of the television station. Holly sat next to him, stiff as a statue. She hadn’t looked at him, not once, since they’d left the house on Sycamore.

  “I didn’t hurt him.” Not physically. Sure, he’d slammed his power straight into the old man’s mind and stolen his will—okay, that probably counted as mental hurt, but there hadn’t been a choice.

  He’d been fucking furious when he realized the shotgun was aimed at Holly. Instinct had taken over and he hadn’t hesitated to use his power.

  Hell, before her, he’d never hesitated. “We couldn’t let him just leave, not after he’d seen us—” He’d heard the guy’s footfalls. A neighbor, coming to check on the house. Probably nervous because he’d caught sight of Niol’s SUV. He’d tried to get out of there before the guy saw ’em, but…

  Too late.

  “I know.” Hollow. Her fingers wrapped around the door handle.

  Dammit. He could practically feel the ice in the air. “There wasn’t a choice.”

  “I know.”

  Again with the voice that could have belonged to a ghost. Not to Holly. Not to in-your-face, tough-as-nails Holly. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. “I’m not like that bastard.”

  The bastard who’d shoved into her mind and turned her body against her. The sick fuck who’d tried to kill her while Niol watched.

  “You don’t know what it’s like.” Finally, finally, she looked at him. “When someone else takes control…”

  No, because no one else was strong enough to get inside his head.

  She has.

  The whisper came from deep within—and Niol ignored it. He wanted to grab her and force her to—

  Trust him.

  Not gonna happen. “You want out?” And he wasn’t talking about the vehicle. If the lady was going to turn tail and run when things started to get a bit rough, she didn’t need to be partnering with him.

  His life was generally always rough.

  Maybe she wasn’t as tough as he’d thought.

  Her eyes narrowed. The fear began to fade as the anger sparked.

  Nice.

  “You know what I want.”

  Justice, for the two demons she’d known and lost.

  “And you know how I have to play the game,” he said. If she wanted to play by human rules, she could go hook up with the cop, Brooks.

  Her teeth snapped together. “This isn’t a game, Niol! We’re talking about lives, here, okay? Sorry that I’m not cold and unfeeling like—” She broke off, choking back her words.

  But he knew what she’d been going to say.

  You.

  Holly shook her head. “People matter to me.” Spoken fiercely. “I’m gonna get emotional. I’m gonna get pissed. And, yeah, I’m even gonna get scared.” She unhooked her seat belt and leaned toward him. “But be clear on this. What I’m not gonna do is give up. Got me?”

  Not yet. But, hopefully, very, very soon.

  She was fucking beautiful with her eyes blazing, her cheeks stained crimson, and her breath heaving.

  A woman of strength. Because he’d learned as a child that the ones in this world who were really strong, they knew how to fear—and how to keep going even when that fear rose like a howling beast inside.

  Slowly, he unfurled his fingers from the steering wheel. She was close to him, the confines of his SUV and the darkness around them shielding the two of them in intimacy.

  The back of his hand brushed over her cheek. Felt the heat beneath her skin.

  She didn’t flinch, but her pupils flared, just a bit.

  Not fear.

  Time for the woman to know just what waited for her. “Before this is done, I will have you, love.” Wild and naked in his bed. Flesh touching. Pleasure ripping them apart.

  He waited for her denial. She’d told him people didn’t always get what they wanted. Screw that. He wasn’t most people, and he wanted her with a driving lust that he hadn’t felt before.

  Not even for the succubus who’d nearly taken his heart years before.

  And he’d killed for her.

  There wasn’t anything easy, good, or noble about him.

  Holly knew that—she’d seen the hell he could bring.

  But she’d chosen to stay with him and if she kept coming so close, kept putting that sweet flesh near him and tempting him—

  His control would shatter.

  “Maybe.” And she crept even closer, as if not sensing the danger when he knew the air was pulsing with power barely held in check.

  Her fingers moved to his thigh. Her palm pressed against his jean clad leg.

  His cock surged to the ready and more-than-willing position.

  She licked her lips. A quick swipe of her pink tongue. “And maybe, I’ll have you.”

  Blood pounded in his ears. Too much temptation. She should know that demons—they weren’t so good on that whole temptation-resisting bit. That part of history was right.

  His arms locked around her and he took her mouth. Those soft lips. That sexy tongue of hers.

  He kissed her like he was desperate, like he was wild—because he was.

  And she met him head-on.

  Holly was the one to scramble over him, breaking her lips from his to swear softly when her leg hit the gearshift. Then she crouched over him. Legs beside his, back above the steering wheel and the crotch of her pants rubbing right over his swollen cock.

  Sex in a car, not his style—but he wasn’t about to complain. With her, he’d take what he could get. His f
ingers pushed under the edge of her shirt, then rose to smooth over the silken flesh of her back.

  He loved her skin. So silky and soft—and that light scent of lavender covered her.

  He loved touching her flesh. And he wanted to feel more of it. More of her.

  His tongue thrust into her mouth. Taking and seducing even as his fingers trailed around her sides and pressed against the lacy edge of her bra.

  He wanted the bra off.

  Wanted the shirt off.

  Her hips rocked against his.

  Niol shuddered. So close to paradise.

  Her head lifted, mouth leaving his, dammit.

  “Niol…”

  When a woman said a man’s name like that, with need and hunger and lust—all coming out in a husky murmur that was more moan than anything else—she could break him.

  Break him.

  He cupped her breasts through the thin material of her bra. The tight nipples stabbed into his palms. He wanted her breasts in his mouth. Needed them there. Needed to taste her. To suck her and make her moan his name again.

  And again.

  Her head tipped back, exposing the pale line of her throat. He had to taste her there. His tongue laved her flesh. Her pulse jerked when his mouth pressed against her. The edge of his teeth scored her, and his fingertips slipped under that scrap of lace—

  A knock sounded on the driver’s window.

  He kept touching her. Kept using his tongue and teeth and—

  “Oh, dammit!” Holly wrenched away from him, falling back into the passenger seat. The windows were fogged up—huh, he hadn’t done that in over seventeen years.

  Another knock, harder this time.

  Someone out there had just ruined the best five minutes of his week—

  And they were really, really pissing him off.

  He jerked the key, wrenching it forward and starting the SUV again. A rough flick of his fingers had the window rolling down. A guy in a security uniform peered into the vehicle, shining a flashlight.

  “This isn’t freaking Make-out Boulevard, man! This is a private parking area for News Flash and—uh, Ms. Storm? That you?”

  Holly coughed and shoved back a rather large clump of her hair. “Hi, uh, Steve.”