But that smile wasn't on her face now. Her plump lips, sin sexy, were turned down and her eyes had narrowed to near slits. "We've got a problem," she announced, lifting a file.
Two problems, the way Danny saw it. Two dead bodies.
Colin and Todd glanced toward her.
"Some things are missing."
"Things?" Danny repeated softly, really not liking where this was going. Nathalia, well, Smith to the rest of the PD, took care of the stiffs. She was the best ME he'd ever met. The best-looking, too, but that was just a perk. The woman had a freaking genius-level IQ.
She'd also been through hell recently, courtesy of a sick f**k who'd terrorized the city, but she was clawing her way back to normalcy.
Or, what amounted to normalcy in this world.
He took the folder from her, leafed through the pages, and knew that his blood pressure was rising even before the pounding began in his temples. "Shit. Tell me you're not sayin'-"
"The killer did a brutal job on them-Miters doesn't have a heart anymore, and Bronx is missing a kidney."
"What?" The shock was from Todd. Understandable. Like Nathalia, he was a human. Still capable of being shocked, even though he was mated to a demon.
"Why the hell would someone take organs?" The disgust, that came from Colin. Colin was a damn fine detective. His shifter senses made him a state-of-the-art hunter, and few prey ever escaped him.
"Because we've got another sick freak on the streets," Danny growled, and knew it was the absolute truth. Hell, just great. Someone was slicing demons, stealing body parts, and a reporter was right in the middle of the whole stinking mess.
His luck was always f**k poor.
And this was the last story that he wanted to see headlining the evening news.
"Who knows this?" There were leaks in his department, leaks in every department. And Niol had too many contacts. His demons were everywhere, even in the Atlanta PD.
Those demons-they kept the peace, upheld the law, and kept Niol fully informed at all times.
"I came straight to you," Nathalia said softly.
His shoulders eased, just a bit. He lifted his hand and pointed at his detectives. "This won't stay quiet for long." Maybe a few days, if they were lucky. "When the media gets wind of this-"
"They'll have the whole city scared shitless," Colin finished.
Todd rose to his feet. "Not necessarily a bad thing. Not with some ass**le out there slicing up his kills."
What the hell had happened to his city? In the last few years, the crimes had just become more violent. The killers more sadistic.
Maybe there were too many Other these days. Too many monsters with too much power.
Humans had forgotten to fear the creatures in the darkness and that was a mistake.
Because those monsters…they were in the mood to play and kill.
"Get Emily in on this," he ordered. Emily Drake, the psychologist with the power to touch the minds of Other . The only woman who could profile a paranormal killer.
Oh, yeah, they sure as shit needed Emily on this one.
"Get her in here, and find this bastard."
Before he killed again…and the story made the lead on the evening news.
Holly wasn't talking to him. She didn't speak during the ride back to her house. Didn't open her mouth when he walked her to the front door of her place.
Women and the silent treatment-what a deadly weapon.
Niol sighed and waited for her to unlock the door. The sun was up, getting ready to drift across the sky. He could see the shadows of the bruises on her flesh and anger hummed within him.
The door swung open and Holly glanced back at him. "Niol…"
Ah, finally. She spoke. He could tell by her expression that Holly was seconds away from telling him to get lost.
He'd do just that, after he had his turn to speak. He crowded against her, pretty much forcing Holly to either step back or get real close and intimate with him.
He wouldn't have minded the close and intimate part, not at all, but Holly moved back.
With a shove of his foot, he slammed the door. "We need to get some things settled between us."
Her eyes widened. "Us? I didn't think there was an 'us.' I thought there was just you telling me to stay the hell out of demon business."
The rules had changed.
He reached for her.
She flinched back.
Oh, hell, no. "I didn't kill those two men," he gritted. Those cops-they'd planted the fear in her mind. He'd have to remember to pay them back for that.
"Why were you-why were you at the scene of Carl's death?"
Because Carl had called him and asked him for a meeting. If he'd arrived earlier, he might have been able to save the kid.
Instead of finding all that blood.
"I've killed, Holly. You know that." And not just that psychotic incubus who'd attacked her in that alley. "I've never claimed to be one of the good guys." He wasn't like Gyth or Brooks, out keeping the peace and locking up the bad guys. Not his style of justice. "But I don't kill innocents."
Her lips twisted into a ghost of a smile. No dimple, dammit. "Oh, Niol, I know you're not good.
I've known that from the beginning."
But she'd walked into his lair anyway. Smelling of fear and sin. Tempting him.
"I don't trust you," she told him.
Good. "I wasn't on that street to hurt Carl," Niol said. Time for some truth. "I was there to help him."
"How?"
"Someone was after him. Carl wanted protection." He could still hear the kid's voice. H-he's following me, Niol. Hunting me.
"Wait! You knew Carl was in trouble? Did you tell Gyth? If someone was stalking him-"
"Two demons are dead." Flat, cold. "This isn't police business, it's my business."
"Because, what? You're judge, jury, and executioner for the demons in this city? Come on, you– "
"Yes, I am." His voice cut across the tumble of her words.
And seemed to stop her cold.
"Niol…" Holly shook her head. "Don't try to give me any warnings about stepping back from this case, okay? I get it-these are your pissing grounds, but they were my friends. They trusted me.
I'm not going to drop this case until I find out who killed them."
He knew that. He also knew that it was too late for Holly to back off. "You're the link, love." A link he'd use.
She swallowed, but didn't reply, and he knew she already understood.
Two dead sources.
One hit-and-run.
He would have needed to be blind not to have made the connection. "The killer's got you in his sights, Holly."