Midnight's Master
her nipples were still pebbled, and her cheeks were flushed—all from hunger.
    Need. For him.
    “I’m not going to play.” Her hand dropped. “I’m going to do my job—and find out what happened to Carl. With or without your help.”
    He stared at her. Such a shame. They would have been good together. The sex, well, it would have been pretty phe-nomenal. All that fire she had—oh, yeah, phe-nomenal.
    Pity.
    Niol shook his head. “Sorry, love, it’s going to be ‘without.’” Then he did the only thing he could do.
    He turned around and walked away from her.
    As he stalked toward the SUV, he felt her eyes on him.
    His hand lifted, reached for the door.
    “Niol.”
    Oh, but the woman’s voice could get to him. It was the soft huskiness when she said his name. Like a stroke right over his cock.

    But he didn’t look at her. Niol opened the door.
    “You have to care.” Her voice sharpened. “You play the bastard, but Carl was little more than a kid, and one of yours. You have to care—”
    The laughter escaped then. He just couldn’t help it. He stepped back and glanced over at her. “Have you forgotten so soon, sweet? The incubus who took you that night, he was one of my kind, too—and I burned him,” the fire had been so beautiful, “from the inside out.”
    She flinched.
    His lips were twisted in a smile that he knew could chill. “I kil my kind.” The incubus hadn’t been the first, and he wouldn’t be the last. “I don’t go out on a crusade to save them…or any humans who are dumb enough to get involved in a world they can’t understand.”
    “You’re a cold bastard, Niol.”
    So he’d been told.
    “I’m not going to walk away. I’ll find out what happened—”
    He climbed into the SUV. He couldn’t spend any more time with her. Not out in the open.
    You never knew who watched in this city.
    He had spies, but so did the other powerful SBs who fought for control of Atlanta.
    SBs…supernatural beings, or, as Holly would probably have said, supernatural bastards.
    He didn’t look at her as he cranked the engine and drove away. Didn’t look back. Long ago, he’d learned not to look back.
    Poor Holly Storm. He’d tried to warn her. Now, she was going to find death.
    Or death would find her.

Chapter 3
    S o she’d struck out with the demon. Not the biggest surprise in the world.
    The next day, Holly stood on a street corner in what was so not the best part of the city. She’d hoped to score big by forming a partnership with one of the most respected—okay, feared—demons in Atlanta. Sure would have helped out her investigation. But since Niol had made it abundantly clear he only wanted her for sex, he wasn’t an option.
    Although the thought of sex with Niol had been playing through her mind and her dreams for weeks.

    Dammit. Sexy. Scary. She’d really never been attracted to bad boys. Not her type. Her ex-fiancé was a professor at Mellrune University. She liked smart men. The sophisticated guys.
    The guys who made her feel safe.
    Or, they did until, like Zack, they started screwing around on her with students.
    Asshole.
    What a jerk he’d—
    “You shouldn’t be here.”
    The husky words, coming from right behind her, made Holly jump.
    She turned and came face-to-face with a man, the top of his head and most of his body covered by a long cloak. His face, whiter than the snow she saw too rarely, was swol en, his lips blood red.
    “Sam.” She exhaled in relief. “Thanks for meeting me. I need to ask—”
    But he shook his head. “You don’t need to ask me a damn thing.” His gaze jerked to the left, then to the right. “What you need to do is lose my number.”
    Her mouth dropped. “What? Sam, we have an arrangement—”
    “Not anymore.” He huffed out a breath and a plume of smoke appeared before him.
    The icy blast was continuing. The station weather guy had told her it would stay cold for at least the next five days. Having the inside scoop really didn’t help
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