He just hoped she meant what she’d said about following his orders. Because listening to him, doing exactly as he ordered, well, that could be the difference between life and death.
“Umm, glad that’s settled then.” McNeal stretched slowly. “I’m going to get out of here.” He shot a quick, hard glance at Colin as he opened the door. “Let me know how the meeting goes.”
His head inclined in a barely perceptible nod. He’d briefed the captain earlier about Donnelley’s note. In hindsight, he now saw that hadn’t been the best plan. It’d obviously made McNeal think the doc would have a connection with the suspects on the case.
The fact that Emily did have a connection with them only pissed him off more.
He hated being forced into a corner.
Colin waited until Emily bid the captain good night, waited until the glass door swung shut behind McNeal, then he reached for her hand.
His fingers locked around her wrist, and her pulse pounded fast and hard beneath his touch.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Once he took her onto the street, there would be no going back. Acting as a profiler was one thing. She could sit back in an air-conditioned office and scribble her notes, but going with him to talk to the Other…well, it could make her a target. A very big target.
Behind her glasses, her green eyes stared straight back at him. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in her expression. “I’m sure.”
“All right, then, Doc. Let’s go find out what our cameraman has to say.” Yep, it was time to go and meet Jake Donnelley. Time to go to Paradise Found.
According to Emily the place was the town’s number one demon hangout.
As dates went, it wasn’t his best.
Then again, it wasn’t his worst either.
Chapter 5
Getting past the seven-foot-tall demon guarding the door of Paradise Found had been incredibly easy.
She’d handed the guy a twenty, and he’d let them slip right past without even a raised brow.
The guy had known they weren’t demons. They didn’t carry the “demon scent” that marked the beings of that race. No, Emily knew she just smelled human. She wasn’t exactly sure how Colin had registered to the bouncer’s sensitive nose.
“That was easy,” Colin muttered, his eyes sweeping across the darkened interior of Paradise Found. “I would’ve thought it would be harder to get into one of the pits of hell.”
Yes, and if the bouncer hadn’t been one of her ex-patients, Emily was certain it would have been much, much more difficult.
Demons were real particular about letting humans into their playgrounds. And from what she’d learned over the years, they didn’t feel a whole lot of love for shifters, either. But then, who did? Shifters were the black sheep of the Other family.
She’d been to Paradise Found before. Once she’d hung out there far, far too often.
The place still looked the same. Dim lighting snaked across the bar, hiding the demons in the darkness. The old dance floor was still as small, and as packed with humans as ever. Jesus, the place even smelled the same. Sweat, alcohol, and sex.
Very carefully, Emily unclenched her hands. When had she balled her fingers into fists? Probably the second she’d stepped over the threshold and entered the bar.
Bad memories. There were a lot of bad memories here.
Her gaze drifted toward the long, black bar top. That’s where she’d almost died, where Myles had tried to shove his power into her mind and make her into one of his damn human puppets.
“I don’t see Donnelley.” Colin paced in front of her, tension tight in his body. He was already attracting more than a few nervous stares.
Her hand touched his arm. “He’s probably in the back.” She motioned toward a row of booths heading down a thin corridor.
“Let’s look over there.” Emily walked across the dance floor, easily dodging the crowd and letting her gaze scan the back row of booths. She could feel the supernatural energy in the room swirling around her. So many Other. Demons, vamps, charmers. She’d better keep her shields up. Keep them strong and—
“Hold on, Doc.” Colin snagged her wrist, stopping her at the edge of the wooden floor. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve been here before?” His words were spoken into her ear. His breath blew against her.
She swallowed but didn’t turn back toward him. Now wasn’t the time to rehash her past. Hell, she’d be happy if she never had to rehash it. She’d been a kid, she’d made dumb-ass mistakes, case closed. “Colin, I—”
A man rose from the shadows of the back booth. Lifted his hand to her.
“There he is,” her voice whispered out.
Colin’s fingers tightened around her. “Remember, Doc, this is my show.” A distinct warning laced his words.
“Like I could forget,” she muttered. Jesus. How many times was the guy going to remind her? She got it. The investigation was his game. She was supposed to play the good little girl and sit back and let the big, bad guy do his job.
Well, she’d never been a good little girl.
Good little girls didn’t get sent to—
“Come back to play with me, huh, Emily?”
Her head jerked up at the deep, rumbling voice, and Emily found herself staring into the midnight black eyes of Niol.
Shit. The dark waves of his power lapped at her, and a dull headache immediately formed behind her eyes.
The guy made her sick. Literally.
Come back to play with me. Not damn likely. But she’d better not burn any bridges yet. She and Colin needed to find out exactly why Preston Myers had a picture of this guy in his house. “Uh, hello, Niol.”
Colin stepped up to her side. Bared his teeth. And kept his hold on her wrist. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” He held out his right hand.
Niol lifted one black brow. “No, Detective, I don’t think you have.” He took Colin’s hand, his fingers tightening for the briefest of moments.
Colin kept his smile— well, it really wasn’t a smile, it was that same baring of fangs that he’d flashed at Darla—on his face as he said, “I see you know who I am.”
“But not what you are.” Niol’s gaze returned to Emily. “If you’re with Emily, then that means you must be…special.”
Colin didn’t respond.
The dancers around them crept back, giving them plenty of space. Probably running away from Niol.
Niol crossed his arms over his chest. “But you’re not my kind, are you, Detective?”