But his control had held. He’d told Emily that the man controlled the beast. So far, that statement had been true in his life. He was realizing, though, that if anyone could make him lose control, it would be Emily.
“What the hell do you mean, two killers?”
“I don’t—” She broke off, glancing up at Colin’s approach. “Good. I wanted to talk to you.”
And he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than talk to her. “What’s happening?”
“During interrogation, umm, I–” She flushed, looking vaguely guilty and admitted, “I dropped my mental shields and tried to touch Bryan’s mind.”
“But he’s human.” A pause. “Isn’t he?” The kid didn’t smell like a shifter. He just smelled like prey. The way most humans did.
Except Emily.
She smelled like…roses. Cream. Woman.
“Yeah, he’s human. And I couldn’t read a thing from him.” She licked her lips. “But I felt the trace of power.”
“Whose power?” McNeal asked sharply.
“A demon’s. High level.” She glanced around quickly to make certain they weren’t being overheard. “Some demons can control humans, if they’re strong enough. Make them into puppets.”
“The possessed.” McNeal nodded, apparently familiar with the term.
“Right. I-I think that’s what happened with Bryan. He honestly doesn’t know why he thinks I’m a demon. He doesn’t know why he’s supposed to follow me. He just does.”
“Because some all-powerful demon put the idea in his head?” Colin frowned. “Look, that sounds crazy as—”
“It’s happened before. Many, many times. Demons kill this way—they keep their hands clean and let their puppets do the dirty work.” Emily met his gaze. “It even happened to me once.”
When she’d nearly been put into a coma.
“I was able to fight the guy off, but someone without my psychic gift, he’d be helpless.”
Possessed.
“So this punk’s been stalking, sorry, hunting, because some demon put it in his head that was his duty?” Sounded like bullshit.
Damn. Why couldn’t the cases be easy anymore?
“Yes, that’s exactly what I think happened.”
“So are we looking for two killers?” McNeal demanded. “Is the demon making the shifter take his kills? What in the hell is going on?”
“Actually, I think I know.” Colin spoke slowly. A powerful demon. A deadly shifter. He met Emily’s gaze and realized the doc was thinking the same thing.
Fuck.
There’s talk of a hybrid demon in town. A strong demon, a nine or ten. Niol’s words echoed in his mind. The sonofabitch had known, Colin realized. He’d known exactly what the killer was.
But did he know who he was?
“Doc, why don’t you give the captain a science lesson on hybrids.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door.
“Gyth! Where are you going?” McNeal called out.
He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “To Paradise. I’m going to find a demon and make the bastard tell me everything he knows about the Butcher.” And if he had to use claws and teeth to get the information, all the better.
“Wait! I’ll come, too! You’ll need me—”
Colin turned around, caught Emily by her wrists, and jerked her against him. “The f**king last place I want you to be is Paradise Found.” The killer could be there, waiting.
Her eyes seemed so wide behind her glasses, so green.
“I can help you, Gyth, just let me—”
He kissed her. A hard, fast kiss with his mouth open, his tongue stabbing deep. Yeah, it was unprofessional. Yeah, the captain saw him.
But he didn’t really care.
He pulled away from her. “I need to do this alone, Doc.” No Monster Doctor. No police partner. He inclined his head toward McNeal. “And it needs to be off the record.” Because he’d do whatever he had to do to catch the killer.
No more humans were going to die on his watch.
He didn’t wait for a reply. Just turned and marched away, his mind already on the coming confrontation.
It was time to find out once and for all just who was stronger—the beast or the demon.
Colin had been gone for four hours. Emily paced the lobby of the station. Shit. She should have forced Colin to take her with him.
Colin didn’t know the Other world like she did. He wouldn’t understand the demons, the vampires, the—Her cell phone beeped.
Colin. She grabbed the phone, frowning at the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Emily Drake.”
“Dr. Drake!” The voice was male. Highly agitated. Voices rumbled in the background. Music blared.
“Thomas? Is that you?” It sounded like her newest patient. She’d given him her number because of the serious nature of his situation, but—
“I-I c-can’t control it! I-I’m c-changing—”
Ice seemed to freeze her veins. “Where are you, Thomas? Thomas!”
“P-paradise Fou…” His words ended in a snarl of pain.
The line went dead.
Niol had gone to ground. Colin sat at the bar, a cold beer bottle in his hand, and turned to slowly survey the bar.
He’d searched for the demon. Gone to his house. Gone to the human girlfriend’s. But the demon was nowhere to be found.
Dammit.
He gulped down some of his brew, the slightly bitter taste burning the back of his throat. He turned back to face the bartender. He figured the guy for a demon. If the guy worked for Niol, he probably had to be. Something in the employment contract…
“So how much longer is he goin’ to keep me waitin’?”
The bartender—a big, tall, black guy—smiled. “As long as he wants.”
Colin sat his beer down very carefully. “You know, the game’s old now. You go tell your boss,” cause he had a feeling he was close by, “that if he doesn’t bring his pointy-tailed ass out here, I’m gonna get a warrant and bust into every room in this damn hellhole you call a bar.” He smiled, too, a smile that showed a lot of teeth. “And I bet I’ll find a few interesting surprises while the boys in blue and I search.”
The bartender stopped smiling. Glanced slightly over Colin’s shoulder.
Niol.
Colin spun around, claws ready, fangs bared, and caught the demon around the throat. He slammed him against the bar, holding him down with one hand.