He went back to face his temptress, and ignored the growing chill in the air.

She stood at the edge of the pool. Hair slicked back. Eyes bright.

He stopped about three feet away from her. Waited. Questions tumbled through his mind. One after the other. How had he known about her birthmark? And when he’d woken that first night, with scratch marks on his arms, just what the hell had been happening?

Had their encounters been dreams…or had they been all too real?

And why the fuck did he still feel so good? Energy and heat pumped through him, making him feel stronger than he had in months.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Todd.”

No shit. Her voice was soft. Tense. Her gaze darted to the left a moment, then returned, almost reluctantly, to his. “I’m not the woman you think I am.”

“Then who the hell are you?” Why was she talking in riddles? He wanted to know about her birthmark, not—

Her left hand lifted, toyed with the top of the towel. “Tell me, Detective—”

Oh, now he was back to detective? Like she hadn’t been moaning his name less than five minutes ago.

“—do you believe in monsters?”

Her question drove the breath from his lungs. “What?” Oh, Christ, he sure hoped she wasn’t gonna tell him that—

“Do you believe in monsters?” She repeated the question and licked her succulent red lips. “You really should, you know.”

“And why is that?” His heart pounded like a drum, the dull beat echoing in his ears.

“Because according to some people, I’m one of the worst monsters you’ll ever meet.”

Chapter 8

He jerked on his clothes, so furious that his hands shook. “Look, baby, if you want to blow me off, that’s fine, but don’t give me some bullshit about being a monster—”

“It’s not bullshit,” she said, blond brows rising in what could have been a flare of annoyance.

“—because I know all about real monsters, okay? I deal with them every fucking day. Rapists. Child killers. Fire freaks who burn down homes with nice old ladies inside—”

She flinched.

“Unless you’re about to tell me that you did kill Michael House,” and Jesus but he hoped she wasn’t, “then don’t screw around with me by throwing out labels that I understand one hell of a lot better than you do.” She’d hit his weak spot, and he was furious.

Todd knew all about the evil in the world. Had known about it since his fourteenth birthday, when he’d watched that bastard Costa smile and shoot his mother straight in the heart. Monsters. Yeah. He knew all about the bastards, and the evil that lived in what they pretended were souls.

“I didn’t kill Michael.” She licked her lips again. Stood there with that towel wrapped around her and looked so damn good that he ached. “But I am a monster, Todd. I-I’m a demon.”

He’d just finished dressing when she made her announcement. He shook his head, slowly. “Run that one by me again, baby.” No way the lady had just said—

“I’m a demon, Detective. A real, honest-to-God,” her mouth curved slightly at that in a wan smile, “demon.”

Todd stared at her, not quite sure what to say. The automatic words, You’re crazy, trembled on his lips.

And he would have said those words to her— two months ago.

Yeah, back then, he would have laughed at her claim. Asked what her punch line was.

But that was two months ago.

Back before the dangerous night when he’d trailed his partner to the warehouse district on the darker side of Atlanta and watched his partner of two years stop being a man—and become a snarling, deadly beast.

A wolf.

Todd hadn’t said a word to anyone about what he’d seen. He’d followed Colin because the guy was his partner, and partners backed each other up.

He’d been shaken as hell. Stunned.

He’d planned to follow the wolf into the warehouse, help him, but the captain had paged him, said that he had to get back to the station ASAP—and that he knew where Todd was.

The order had been blunt. Get your ass out of there before you get Colin killed.

So he’d left. He’d taken a heavy knowledge with him—a knowledge he hadn’t shared with anyone—because, well, who would believe him?

At first, he’d had so many dreams about that night. Memories of that brutal shift. The snap of bones and the growl of the beast had haunted his nights.

He’d kept at his job, though, damn it. Bit back the instinctive fear that roused its head. And he’d stuck by his partner’s side, even when he’d been pissed and confused as all hell.

He’d thought that Colin was an anomaly, but now—

“Did you hear me?” Cara raised her voice. “I-I just told you that I’m a demon.”

Todd blinked. First werewolves, now demons. But Cara didn’t look like a demon. No horns. No tail. No forked tongue. Or was all that stuff he’d heard as a kid just bullshit?

“This is the point where most guys get really afraid and leave, as fast as they can.” She hesitated. “Uh, Todd? Can you say something? Are—are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right,” he gritted. “My lover just told me she’s a damn demon.” Not the best news he could have gotten, but at least she hadn’t confessed to being a murdering demon. “You…don’t look like a demon.”

Now her smile really did break his heart. “Sure I do,” she said, and closed her eyes. When they opened a second later, they were black. Completely black.

“Shit!”

Another blink, and her blue gaze was back. “It’s just a little glamour,” she told him, lifting a brow.

Those eyes. He’d seen them before. The darkness. Black cornea. Retina. He’d seen it with—

Niol. That asshole at Paradise Found. He’d wondered why someone would wear contacts like that, but if Cara was telling him the truth, that meant Niol was a demon, too.

And that fact made a hell of a lot of sense when Todd remembered his strange attack in the bar.

“You’re handling this, um, rather well.” Cara gazed at him solemnly.

When Todd lifted his hand to shove back his wet hair, he noticed a tremble still in his fingers. Not that well, baby. He tried for rational. “Demons aren’t real.” He knew the statement was a lie the minute the words slipped out. His partner was a werewolf. If werewolves could exist, then why not demons, too?

Shit, but the world was even more messed up than he’d originally thought, and about a hundred times more dangerous.

“Of course, we’re real. We’ve been living with humans from the very beginning.” She held up her hand. “And before you start asking, let me just tell you, demons are not the spawn of the devil, okay? Total myth, that part. We’re just a…different race.”

Different race. Seemed simple enough—but his thundering heart wasn’t quite buying the simple explanation. Christ. “What kind of demon are you?” His gaze raked down her body. “And just how much, uh—” What had she called it? “Glamour have you been using on me?” A cold wind seemed to blow over him. The woman was too pretty. Too perfect looking by far. Hell, the only flaw on her body was that birthmark on her hip, and it really wasn’t a flaw so much as—well, a mark he wanted to bite.

Too perfect. He’d thought it from the beginning. Just what, exactly, was she hiding beneath the glamour?

Did he really want to know?

“Don’t be an idiot!” Cara snapped, and turned on her heel. She stomped toward the chaise and picked up a thin, blue robe. She shouldered into it, letting the towel drop to the ground.

Todd swallowed and absolutely refused to try and catch a glimpse of her naked sex.

“I’m not using glamour to do anything but camouflage my eyes, okay? In case you didn’t notice, they’re a bit of a giveaway, don’t you think? And it’s not like I want to go around advertising my true self to the world!”

“Well, your ‘true self’ is what I’m interested in.” Last night, he would have done almost anything to claim her. The lust had been that wild. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder…how much of it had been real?

A demon. He didn’t know anything about demons or their power. It was so unbelievable. So insane, so—

True.

He knew in his gut Cara wasn’t lying, and too many facts and situations from over the years were rolling through his head.

So much made sense now. The angry stares in Paradise Found. The strange energy he’d felt there.

“I’m not using glamour to shield my body or my face,” she said, hands tightening into fists.

“So that crap about demons having horns and pointed tails is—what? Straight lies?”

“No. It’s true for certain very, very old and very, very powerful demons.”

Hell.

“I’m not a very strong demon,” Cara admitted and did her cheeks flush? Was the woman, ah, demon, embarrassed by her weakness?

“And just what kind of demon are you?” He asked her again, and wondered why she hadn’t answered him before.

Her mouth opened as if she were going to reply, then she stopped and pressed her lips together.

Uh, oh. Not a good sign. But, just how many demons were there, anyway?

“You’re not acting particularly shocked,” she said slowly, and, once more—not answering his question. There was suspicion on her face as she asked, “Have you met my kind before?”

Yeah, he just hadn’t realized it until now. No wonder he’d felt like half the world had been keeping secrets from him. They had.

But not any longer. The rose-colored glasses lay shattered at his feet. “Cara…”

“Guys really do generally run at this point.” A faint line appeared between her brows. “Like I told you, fast.”

“You’ve told a lot of guys this spiel, huh?” Was that jealousy flaring in his gut? Sure felt like it.

“A few. Those who don’t run usually want me to prove that I’m a demon.”

“So you do your eye trick.”

Her lips tightened. “I can do more than that.”

Now he was curious. Kinda like those people who stopped and turned around when they saw car accidents. “Like what?”

“On any human male but you, I’d be able to hypnotize with just a word. Get you to do my complete bidding.”

Now Todd had to swallow to ease the dryness in his throat. And she didn’t think that made her fall into the “strong”

category? “So why am I the lucky human?”

“Because you’re a latent psychic with more power than you realize.” A shrug. “You’ve got shields up in your mind that you don’t even know about.”

Now that was a load of shit. He wasn’t psychic. Never had been. “Nice try, baby, but if I were psychic, I would have won the lottery years ago and retired to Mexico.” How was he even having this conversation?

They’d been climaxing together minutes before. He’d wanted nothing more than to shove deep and hard into her tight sex and now—

Well, now he’d entered the twilight zone, and he’d very much like to leave, please.

“You’re not that kind of psychic.” He thought he heard her mutter, idiot, beneath her breath. His eyes narrowed. She continued,

“You probably get feelings, don’t you? Little vibes of tension or fear just before you walk into a situation that’s dangerous as all hell. But you know before you walk in, don’t you?”

How did she know that?

“Some folks would call that instinct. A psychic edge. Whatever you want to name it, the fact is that your mind is stronger than others. You’ve got a gift, one most humans never get, and those that do have it, well, precious few understand just what in the world is going on when the edge kicks into play.”

“But you understand, right?”

“All of my kind have the edge. We were brought into this world with it, and we’ll leave with it.”

He didn’t want to talk about what fictional powers he may or not possess. Right then, he just wanted to focus on her. “So you usually do a hypnotic show, huh? No other tricks to prove that you’re a demon?” Though proof was really moot at this point, he still felt the driving need to keep pushing at her.

Because she’s just knocked my world right off its axis.

No, his jaw tightened. He couldn’t lie to himself right then. Colin had rocked his reality months ago. Cara had just broken the shaky peace he’d been living in since that night.

“I have a few other skills,” Cara admitted, somewhat grudgingly, he thought. She lifted her hand. A small plume of smoke appeared about two inches above her open palm. As he watched, the smoke thickened, and with a snap, a ball of flames burst in the air.

Cara pulled back her hand, smiled at him, and tossed the fire straight toward him.

“Shit!”

He ducked. Felt the rush of fire. Looked up, saw the ball, spinning in the air, fire blazing gold and red.

Then it vanished.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

He wasn’t 100 percent certain he believed that. Especially since the top of his head felt singed.

“You pissed me off,” she said, lips twisting. “I shouldn’t have tossed that toward you.”

“Uh, yeah, you shouldn’t have tossed the ball of fire at my head.” Unbelievable.

His lover was a demon.

Damn. Damn. Damn.




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