Not a newsflash. She could feel his stare. He’d been in and out of the other room since she’d been dumped in interrogation. But she didn’t want to admit her knowledge to the cop, so she’d asked her questions—
And gotten more damn enraged by the moment.
Todd should have his ass in there. What game was he playing now? What—
“If he wanted to talk to you, he’d be here—”
The door shoved open before Gyth could finish his sentence. Banged back against the wall with a thud. Todd stood in the doorway, face flushed, eyes glinting.
He looked furious. Body tight. Hands clenched.
Just the way she felt. “Been telling stories, have you, Todd?” She asked softly, tilting her chin back just the slightest bit. Seeing him again stirred an ache inside her. The hunger hadn’t abated. The need was still there, even though he’d turned on her.
She could be such an idiot sometimes.
“I didn’t have to tell him. Gyth already knew.” He slammed the door shut with his heel, then stalked toward her.
Ah. Her gaze darted back to the other cop. Shifter nose.
“And how’d you know about me?” Gyth asked.
A shrug. Not like it was confidential information or anything. “When you smelled my pheromones, you stepped back. Demons, humans, vamps—they all come closer.”
A growl sounded. It didn’t come from the shifter, but from Todd. “So you’ve got a lot of…experience luring men, do you?”
She didn’t like his tone. Not. One. Bit.
“But you’re a sex demon, right? So screwing men, draining them, even killing them for sensual power—that’s just right up your alley, isn’t it?”
What the hell was happening? Was this some really nightmarish game of bad cop, bad cop? What had happened to her tender lover?
He’d left when he found out what I truly am.
The air in the room thickened around her. “I don’t like the term ‘sex demon.’” Her head cocked to the right. “I find it offensive.”
As offensive as she found the rest of his words. She’d made love with him the night before. She hadn’t just been screwing around.
Her fingers flattened against the table. Deep groves indented the surface, courtesy of her nails. Her gaze held Todd’s. “And I am not, not, going to apologize for being what I am.” She’d been born a demon. Unchangeable fact. She was a demon, one that, after she hit adulthood, needed a certain powerful energy to continue living. Not her fault. Just the hand of fate.
“You’re not going to apologize for killing?” Gyth asked. “Damn ballsy of you.”
Now she had to be careful. “And just who is it that you think I killed? I’ve already told you that I had nothing to do with Michael’s death, or the others you mentioned and—”
“But you didn’t tell us that Simon Battle liked to come to Paradise Found and listen to you sing.” Todd was at the edge of the table.
Hands fisted. Brows low over his eyes, and jaw clenched tight.
“What? Who?”
“Simon Battle.” Gyth slid the eight-by-ten photo across the table. “Victim number one, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Her gaze flickered to the photo. She inhaled sharply. “I don’t know him.”
“But he knew you,” Todd told her. “In fact, according to the guy’s friends, he made it a habit to go and catch your show once a week.”
“I’ve only been singing at Paradise Found for a little over two months—”
“And he caught one of your shows every week.”
Cara studied the photo, tried to block the pain that shook her. The man’s eyes were closed. There was nothing particularly familiar about the guy. He was attractive, with strong features and a faint dimple in his chin. His hair was brushed back from his high forehead.
Yeah, a good-looking, dead guy. One she didn’t know. Her eyes lifted back to Todd’s. “You’ve been at Paradise when I sing.”
Gyth swore.
She ignored him, continuing, “You know how packed that place can get. With the lights on the stage, it’s not like I can see every man in the crowd.”
“But they can all see you.”
“So?”
He opened his mouth, began to snap, “That’s just what you—”
“How’d a human get inside Paradise so often?” Gyth demanded, cutting across Todd’s angry words.
Cara blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Humans get in all the time. Those who know about us sometimes like to play.”
“And Niol lets them?”
“As long as no one gets seriously hurt in his place, Niol tolerates just about anything.”
“You know him pretty well.” Todd’s voice was controlled now, too controlled.
Cara nodded.
“He’s like you, right?”
“Not exactly.” Niol wasn’t an incubus. Just a full-blooded, deadly dangerous warrior…who happened to be a level-ten demon.
He’d also been her sister’s lover. Years ago.
“What about him?” Gyth pushed another photo in front of her.
She really didn’t enjoy looking at photos of dead men. Cara spared a brief glance for the still features of the handsome man, felt pity stir in her heart. “Am I supposed to know him, too?”
“Travis Walters. Until recently, he lived on your block. We found out he moved about five months ago.”
“And I moved in less than four.” She wanted to jump up, to scream and rage at Todd. How could he be doing this? Did he really think she’d murdered these men? How the hell could he go from making love to her to—to treating her like a prime suspect?
She wanted to punch him. She wanted to scream.
Damn it, she even felt stupid tears welling in her eyes.
This shit sucked!
“Tell me, Cara…” Todd’s tone was so sharp it could have cut glass. “Can a succubus really kill her lover?”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” She flared, driven to the edge. She was about to snap. One more smartass comment from her lover and—
“Can a succubus kill?”
Cara shot to her feet. “Anyone can kill under the right circumstances.” He should know that. After all, he’d admitted his own crimes to her.
“But what about killing without damaging the body? Without breaking the skin at all?” Gyth asked.
Her stare never left Todd. “What am I? Your prime suspect or some kind of expert on demons?”