Hot Demon Nights (7 page)

Blaise chuckled. “Only if you want me to.”

I tore my gaze away, concentrating on the boots I was attempting to slip my feet into. I slid the zippers up and straightened. “I’m ready.”

“Really?” He smiled that dangerously sexy smile that made my knees so weak I could have shot myself. Then he handed me the tray with our empty mugs. “If you’ll do the honors of taking this back to the kitchen, I’ll meet you at the door.”

I took the tray, trying—and failing—to avoid his touch. That electric shock of awareness zipped through my system, jolting me awake better than any caffeine could ever accomplish.

His eyes widened briefly and he held onto the tray a little longer than he should have before letting go.

If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d felt that blast of awareness as much as I had. And it had surprised him. Which led me to believe it wasn’t just a demon touching a human that sent that blast. It was him touching me. It was way too early in the morning to be dealing with that, so I turned to walk away, but I swung toward the kitchen faster than I should have, tripping over the comforter that had found its way to the floor during the night. The tray launched from my grip, scattering coffee mugs and bagels across the carpet.

In a blur of motion, Blaise caught me before I hit the ground, his arm circling my waist, pulling me against his hard, contoured nakedness. He straightened, his grip tightening to keep me from bolting.

Not that I could. Once in his arms, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. I suddenly felt as though my clothes constricted my ability to breathe.

He smiled down at me. “Careful, beautiful.” The words rumbled in his chest, vibrating against mine.

I opened my mouth to tell him to let me go, yet instead I leaned up on my toes and kissed him. What came over me, I don’t know, but I had to taste his lips.

For a long moment, he let me take the lead, then his hands moved up my body, clasping my cheeks between his palms, holding my face away from him. “Careful.” Then his lips crushed mine.

My hands settled on his waist, drawing him closer until his hips ground into mine, his cock hard and persistent, nudging against my belly. As if of their own volition, my fingers slid down his back to cup his ass.

The muscles flexed beneath my touch, sinuous and strong.

I wanted him now. Forget the investigation, forget the world. I wanted this demon inside me, thrusting deep and hard.

Blaise broke off the kiss, tugging my hair until I looked up into his eyes. “Much as I’d love to make love to you again, we have to go.” He picked up the tray and mugs, set them in my hands and turned me toward the kitchen with a pat on my ass. “Go, before I change my mind.”

In a daze, I walked to the kitchen, coming back to earth with each step. With returning brain cells, I wondered what was going on. I’d never responded to a man that way. And from the tension in Blaise’s smile, the clear restraint in his touch, I had the feeling he wasn’t used to responding to women this way, either. What was going on with us? I needed answers and I needed them
now.

I summoned every ounce of anger I could muster and slammed the tray on the counter. The bang and clatter of dishes helped further my grasp on reality. “I’m not in the habit of fucking my partners.”

“Note taken,” he said from the other room.

I jerked the dishwasher door open and jammed a mug into the rack. “And I’ve never lost focus on a job before.”

“Before what?” He grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and slid his arms into it before striding across the floor and standing in front of me. “Before you met me?”

I glared up at him. “Yes. I never lost focus before I met you.”

“I could say the same about you. I was never drawn to a human woman before I met you. The only women I’ve been even remotely attracted to are other demons like me.” His eyes narrowed and he reached for my shoulders, his fingers digging in. “Are you sure you’re not a demon?”

Chapter Seven

M
y insides turned cartwheels at the way his touch made me feel. I fought the need to lean into him, pushing against his chest instead. “Hell, no, I’m not a demon. I’d think I’d know it if I was.”

Blaise’s grip tightened. “What do you know about your father?”

I shook free. “Nothing. I barely knew him before he left. All I know is my mother loved him so much, it tore her apart when he abandoned us.”

Blaise opened his mouth to say something, closed it and zipped his jacket. “We’re going to be late.”

I grabbed my jacket from the floor where it had fallen the night before, crammed my keys in my pocket and headed for the door.

“Forgetting something?” Blaise held up my shoulder holster with the gun.

I slipped the holster over my shoulders, buckled it and slid my arms into my jacket, making tracks for the door as I shrugged into the leather. My blood boiled in my veins from Blaise’s incessant questioning about a man I hated to the very core of my being. And the residual sexual tension didn’t help slow my pulse in the least. I held onto my anger like a shield, determined to put this obsession with a demon to bed…er, rest…er…out of my freakin’ mind before it drove me crazier than I’d already become.

At the station, we found Detective Thomas in the conference area labeled War Room. He had a dry-erase marker in his hand and was making notes on a large white board. All the attacks and their dates were listed, the people involved and any correlations to each that had already been discussed.

“Glad you two could make it.”

“Any other attacks last night?” Blaise asked.

“No. But then there has only ever been one on any given night.”

“So we can expect another tonight if we don’t find our mad scientist before then?” I interjected.

Thomas nodded. “That would be my guess.”

I walked around the conference table, getting as far away from Blaise as possible. Not that it helped. I was hyperaware of his presence to the detriment of my concentration. I filled in the detective on what we’d learned from our visit to F&L labs the night before. “Maybe we should split up to question all the different scientists from the reanimation lab. We could get through the list a lot sooner.”

Thomas shook his head. “No, you work as partners. We don’t know how dangerous the man behind these attacks can be. So far two homeless men have died, and Felding’s secretary is in the hospital in a coma. The widow would be dead if the doorman hadn’t come to her rescue as soon as he did. I prefer you two to stick together.”

Blaise nodded. “I agree.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Ready to hit the road,
partner?”

Much as I hated to admit it, I was half glad the boss forced us to stick together. Still kinda new in the city, I didn’t really relish the idea of knocking on doors of potential killers by myself. On the other hand, being in close quarters with a demon—oh all right, with this
particular
demon—was having a detrimental effect on my ability to think straight, and my body felt like all the blood inside was hopping. I couldn’t relax for a moment without worrying that I might end up in his arms again.

Damn it, what had happened to all my promises to myself to be independent, to never need anyone, and particularly not any man?

I stomped toward the door, patting the gun beneath my arm, telling myself that if I had to, I’d use it on Blaise if he didn’t keep his hands off me.

Will you shoot yourself if you can’t keep your hands off me?

“Get out of my head, demon,” I warned.

We’d appropriated an unmarked police car from the precinct to make the trip. With me driving, I had my hands full dealing with traffic, as good an excuse as any to keep the idle chatter to a minimum. The ride to Victor’s apartment was accomplished in silence. I refused to speak, working at how to block my thoughts from the mind-reading demon.

If he knew what I was doing, he didn’t say anything, allowing me time to stew in my own juices.

Victor’s apartment was in a fancy brownstone in Brooklyn. I’d called F&L to make sure he wasn’t expected at work that day. As early as it was, he should still be at home. Maybe even working in his basement reanimating dead people for fun. Wouldn’t it be nice to bag the perp in action? Then the investigation would be over and I’d be free of my partner.

As I parked illegally against the curb, I pulled the gun from the shoulder holster, checked that a round was chambered and the safety was on before tucking it back in place. “Ready?”

“I’ll let you go first.”

I smirked. “Afraid I might shoot you?” I slid from the car without waiting for his response.

“Yes.” He waited for me to lead the way.

It was just as well. I was anxious to get the interview over, make my arrest and be done with it and Blaise. I buzzed the apartment number we’d ascertained was Victor’s and waited for a response.

Nothing.

Again, I hit the buzzer.

One of the inhabitants of the building let herself out the front door.

I stuck my foot in before the door closed behind her, and Blaise and I entered the building. As we climbed the stairs to apartment 4C, my hackles rose. I noticed the door wasn’t closed all the way. It stood ajar, no indication of forced entry.

Blaise touched my arm, motioning me to the side.

I frowned, shook my head and drew my weapon from the holster. Then I nudged the door open with my toe, standing to the side in case someone decided to take a shot at me. Nothing moved in the shadowy interior.

I ducked low and entered, dodging to one side as soon as I cleared the doorway.

Blaise entered and moved the opposite direction.

Nothing looked amiss until I noticed the man lying on the couch.

“Mr. Stewart?” I called out.

The man didn’t budge, twitch or give any indication that he was merely asleep. I sniffed the air, that scent of death making my nostrils twitch. Reaching out to my side, I flipped on the light beside the door. That’s when I saw the blood. My breath caught in my throat and I automatically rushed forward.

An arm across my chest stopped me. Blaise lifted a finger to his lips.

I gathered my senses and held fast to where I was, self-preservation instincts kicking in.

Blaise circled around the living room and entered the darkened doorway of the bedroom.

I held my Glock in front of me as I entered the tiny kitchen, checking behind the bar for any intruders.

When Blaise emerged from the bedroom, he shook his head. “All clear.”

I crossed the floor to the man on the couch. Without touching him, I knew he was dead. The blood had dropped from his nose and the corner of his mouth onto the floor beside him, leaving a small pool of congealing liquid. No signs of a bullet or knife entries. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to have fallen to sleep on the couch and died of internal bleeding. The M.E. would have to perform an autopsy to determine the exact cause of death. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Detective Thomas. “Victor Stewart is dead.” I gave our boss the details, while Blaise moved around the room, careful not to disturb anything that could be evidence.

By the time I hung up, Blaise had made it to the kitchen. “There’s a wine glass in the sink but no wine bottle in the refrigerator or trash.”

I frowned. “You think he was drinking with someone who took the bottle and their own glass with them when they left?”

“Looks that way. Leaving no prints or DNA.”

I walked to the door and nudged it with my foot, closing it gently. The lock didn’t click into place and after a moment, the door slid open. “Whoever left was in a hurry and didn’t close the door securely.” I glanced across at Blaise. “But it definitely wasn’t tampered with to let the person in. Whoever did this, Stewart invited them in, had a glass of wine with them. You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

He nodded. “Stewart was murdered by someone he knew and trusted.”

Instead of clinching this case, we had another murder on our hands and no clue as to who might have done it.

Within minutes of my call to Detective Thomas, street cops had the place cordoned off and the forensics team had arrived. We gave them what information we could and stepped out of the way.

“Come on.” Blaise hooked my arm, sending a fresh wave of adrenaline and desire bolting through my body. “We have four more scientists to interview.”

“And a case to conclude.”
Before I get too involved with a paranorm
.

“Admit it, you already are too involved.” He dropped his hold on my arm and grinned, stepping out of the building into the light rain that had begun to fall.

Yeah, I couldn’t deny it. The demon had me on the edge just being near him. When he touched me…damn the man! All the more reason to get this investigation over with and even move back to Chicago if I had to in order to get away from him.

“New York has so much more to offer. You know you like it here better than Chicago.”

“Blaise….”

“I know. Get out of your head.” He chuckled. “You’re too easy to tease.”

I gritted my teeth to keep from blasting him with another line he probably already knew was going to come out of my mouth. I climbed into our unmarked car and twisted the key in the ignition. If I could have taken off, leaving him behind, I would have. But Blaise slid into the passenger seat before I could shift into gear.

We left Victor’s apartment and headed for the next closest scientist’s place. Again, I called to make sure she was home. Rachel Trent lived in the basement level of a quaint, old four-story building. When we knocked on her door, she pulled the door open, leaving the chain in place. “May I help you?” Medium brown hair, approximately five feet four inches and rather plain, Rachel pushed her wire-framed glasses up her nose.

I flashed my badge. “Rachel Trent?”

The woman nodded. “That’s me.”

“We’d like to speak with you about your work at F&L and your relationships with Victor Stewart and Gordon Felding.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

Blaise stepped into view, his killer smile in place. “There’s been a string of unusual incidents that might be related to the work you and others at F&L have been engaged in.”

Rachel blushed, her eyes blinking rapidly. “I see. Won’t you come in?” She closed the door, slid the chain free and opened the door, motioning for us to enter. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I’ve been out of town for the past week, visiting my folks in Eerie, Pennsylvania. I just got back last night.”

If her story checked out, Rachel was off our lists of suspects. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t shed light on what was going in the F&L labs. “When was the last time you saw or spoke with Victor?”

“We worked the day shift a week ago. I spoke to him then. I haven’t seen or talked to him since.” She clasped her hands together. “Why? Is anything wrong? Is Victor okay?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry to inform you that we found Victor dead in his apartment an hour ago.”

Rachel clutched her hands to her breasts and sank into a floral armchair, her face blanching white, tears welling. “Oh, my God. Poor Victor. He was only trying to do the right thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Her tears overflowed, trickling down her wan cheeks. “I told him to leave it, not to make waves.”

I stood awkwardly, hating to see a girl cry, knowing I should offer comfort, but useless at it, having spent a lifetime refusing comfort for myself.

Blaise, bless his demonic heart, stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s a terrible tragedy. There, there.” He patted her back, rubbing his hand up and down like a mother would soothe a child.

A stab of jealousy hit me so hard, I staggered back a step before I got a grip. I wanted his hand on my back, rubbing me…. “What do you mean by
make waves
?” I asked, my voice cutting through the sobs.

Rachel leaned into Blaise’s chest, glancing up at me through her tears. “He thought we should stop the experiments, that the drug could be too dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“What drug?” I knew before I asked, but I wanted to hear Rachel say it.

“The reanimation drug we’d been testing on rats.” She burst into another fit of crying.

Blaise was getting into his role so much I wanted to reach out and slap him and Rachel. “Could you focus a moment and tell me who might have wanted Victor dead?”

She sniffed and blinked at me. “Why, I guess any one of us scientists could have thought it at one point. You see, if they stopped the experiments on the drug, we all stood to lose our jobs. What with the economy being like it is, F&L is looking for reasons to cut staff, especially highly paid scientists.”

“Miss Trent,” I said. “Can anyone verify your whereabouts last night?”

She sat up straight, pushing away from Blaise. “Me? You think I killed poor Victor?” Her eyes widened, more tears threatening to fall.

“Just for the record, ma’am,” I stated, glad she’d leaned away from Blaise and feeling a little more charity toward the woman I was almost positive didn’t kill Victor Stewart.

“My landlord spoke to me as I carried my bags in yesterday. I didn’t leave after that.”

“You talked about the drug getting into the wrong hands. Anyone in particular?”

Rachel’s breath caught and she glanced down. “I don’t know.”

“If you have any information that can help this case, it would be best to tell us now.”

“If I say anything I could end up like Victor,” she whispered.

“If you don’t say anything, you could still end up like Victor. Do you think anyone is safe at this point?”

She shook her head. “Gordon Felding made a deal before he died. I don’t know all the details, only that he made it with a very dangerous man.”

This time I gripped her arms and forced her to look at me. “Who, Rachel?”

“I heard it was with Rico Mendez.”

A sick feeling filled my gut. “Rico Mendez of the Mendez Familia drug cartel?”

She nodded, more tears welling in her already water-logged eyes. “The first installment went to an account in the Caymans. Rico was to receive the drug this week, but all that went on hold when Mr. Felding suddenly died.”