Emily tensed. Then forced a slightly confused expression onto her face. “See demons?” She shook her head. “Of course not.”
Emily strove to look concerned. “Why, my dear, do you?”
Darla’s lips thinned as she snatched her hand back. Her pretty face twisted and she turned on her heel, shoving her way through the crowd.
Jake looked at Emily. Met her stare for just a moment. There was worry in his eyes. Worry for her and for himself.
He nodded to her, a slight inclination of his head, then disappeared into the throng of reporters.
Her breath left her in a hard whoosh.
Shit. Darla Mitchell was digging into her past.
And her past was definitely not pretty.
Emily looked pale. Scared.
Colin tightened his hold on her arm and steered her toward the stairwell. He shoved open the metal door and gently pushed her past the threshold. When the door swung shut behind them, he hesitated a moment, listening intently, then, satisfied that they were the only ones in the stairwell, he figured it was time for a question-and-answer session of their own.
“Doc, what’s going on?”
Emily stared up at him, and her eyes looked very wide. “There are some things you don’t know about me.”
After last night, he’d started to think he knew the woman damn well. He knew just where to touch her to make that soft moan rumble in her throat. He knew what it felt like when she climaxed around him. Knew what she looked like first thing in the morning when the sunlight trickled through her blinds.
Yeah, he was starting to know the doc pretty well. But he knew she still had secrets.
So did he.
He figured he had the advantage though, considering he’d run a background check on her. After that first night, when he’d been sure someone was watching her, he’d started searching for information about the doc.
From what he’d gathered, the doc led a pretty quiet life. She dated occasionally but seemed to spend most of her time working with her patients.
He knew there was more to Emily though, knew secrets lay beneath her calm surface. And it looked like he was about to learn one of those secrets now…
“I think Darla’s investigating me.” Her lips tightened. “Correction, I know she is.” Anger hardened her voice. “I don’t know how she got the file. It should have been destroyed. There is no way she should have—”
“Whoa. Slow down.” He gripped her elbows. “I’m not the mind reader, baby. I don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”
“Serenity Woods.” She bit off the words. “She knows about the time I was at Serenity Woods.”
He wasn’t getting it. “So you worked at a psych ward.” He’d heard Emily and Darla’s conversation, and he’d thought the doc would be more rattled about the reporter’s demon question than a vague mention of some old psychiatric hospital.
He remembered reading an old file about the fire a few years ago. No one had been hurt. The smoke alarms had alerted the staff and they’d gotten all the patients out safely. A sudden thought had him tensing. “Dammit, Emily, were you working there when—”
“I didn’t work there!” Her voice was sharp. “Oh damn, I’ve got to go talk to Darla, find out what she knows.”
“You mean we’ve got to talk to her.” The doc should have gotten it by now. They were partners. Partners worked together. “But we can’t question her with all those other reporters around. We’ll wait, go to her later tonight.”
Emily nodded, but she didn’t look pleased with the delay. “Fine.”
Tension had made her body stiffen against his. His gaze swept over her. She was wearing a black turtleneck again. He’d wondered if she’d worn that top to hide the faint mark he’d left on her throat.
He’d marked her deliberately, of course. It was the way of his kind.
And he’d do it again. As soon as he got her beneath him, or on top of him.
Hell, he’d take her any way he could get her. He’d gotten his first good taste of the doc, and he was hungry, starving, for more.
His gaze dropped to her waist. She was wearing a skirt. A slim black skirt.
Pity Smith was waiting on them. He’d sure love to lift up that skirt and find out if Emily was as soft as he remembered.
His c**k swelled against his zipper.
Damn. Not the time.
Emily was angry, frightened, and sure as hell not in the mood for a horny shifter.
Later.
He forced his hands to release their grip on her. They needed to talk more. A hell of a lot more. He still didn’t know what secret was burning her from the inside, but they were already running late. It would have to wait. He’d question her after they talked to Smith. “We need to get going. Smith wants us to meet her in the morgue.”
A flash of distaste covered Emily’s face.
“Yeah, Doc. I hate the smell down there, too.” He sure as hell didn’t know how Smith could stand it. “But she’s got something to tell us.” Maybe they’d gotten lucky and Smith had found a link to the killer.
Emily nodded jerkily and began hurrying down the stairs. He frowned as he watched her, remembering too late the words he’d all but ignored moments before.
I didn’t work there.
But if Emily hadn’t been working at Serenity Woods, then what had she been doing there?
Smith was waiting on them, already covered in her white lab coat. She had her radio turned on; she usually listened to it when she was doing paperwork, and soft, whispery jazz filled the air.
She frowned when she saw them. “Damn, Gyth. What’d you guys do, stop for coffee?”
“Sorry.” Emily cleared her throat. “My fault. I was talking to a reporter.”
“Hmmm. Freaking vultures.” Smith shoved away from her desk. “Those idiots didn’t care about the facts. They just want to hype the killer, sell more copies of their paper, and get folks so scared they stay glued to their TV sets.”
“A little harsh, don’t you think?” Colin asked. He knew Smith didn’t love the media. She’d had a run-in a few years ago with a reporter for News Flash Five. The guy had tried to make it look like she’d contaminated evidence in a murder trial.
She hadn’t, but the reporter had done a damn good job of insinuating that she and the department were corrupt.
Luckily, the jury had been sequestered and they’d missed the daily news reports and the murderer had gone to jail.