She didn’t comply.
How was that possible?
Did my power not work on her?
She stiffened her spine and demanded, “What do you know about the man in the alley?”
“You could see me there, then?”
She nodded. “I saw you.”
“But you weren’t there. Not when I was.” I studied her, trying to get a hint of her magical signature. It was locked down tight, though not by her own effort. I detected the faintest hint of a suppressor potion.
She wasn’t used to keeping her signature locked down, which confirmed that she wasn’t from Guild City. Everyone here knew how to keep their magic under tight lock and key—the Council of Guilds demanded it. Their strict control of magic in the city was half of what made it possible for me to run my business. Smuggling boomed under strict law and governments. It was perfect for my particular talents.
But then, I’d already known she wasn’t from my city. I knew everything that went on in this part of London. It was impossible not to be painfully aware of her.
“Well?” I prodded. “You weren’t in that alley at the same time I was. I’d have noticed you. But you made a connection with me there.”
She nodded sharply, and I spotted the indecision in her eyes. Finally, she said, “I saw you in one of my visions.”
“Does that happen normally?” If my power didn’t work on her, then she was special to me. I wanted to know if I was special to her.
“Tell me about the body in the alley.”
I grinned, liking that she evaded my question. She wasn’t an easy woman, and I found that it appealed to me. “If you were worried that I was the murderer, why come here?”
“Because I can take care of myself.”
I believed it—for the most part. She could handle herself around others, yes. Still, I could have her underneath me in seconds if I wanted.
But no, that monster was dead inside me now. Killed by my own hand.
These days, I found I preferred the chase.
And no matter how much the citizens of Guild City believed otherwise, I wasn’t a monster. Not all of me.
“No.” I tilted my head to better study her. “You came because you are backed into a corner.”
She scowled at me but didn’t press for more answers. “Tell me about the man in the alley.”
“Persistent, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m not the murderer.” I sipped the coffee and watched her from my spot across the room.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You’re not dead yet, are you?”
She scoffed. “Just because you killed him doesn’t mean you’ll kill me. Not right away, at least. You might want me for something.”
Want me for something.
An unfamiliar heat blossomed inside me. Yes. I very much did. But not for killing.
I shoved the thought to the back of my mind. Now wasn’t the time for that.
“Why are you tracking the murderer?” I asked.
Her lips tightened, and I could see the thoughts behind her eyes. She was debating how much to tell me. Clever. I trafficked in information as much as anything, and the wise ones knew it was dangerous to tell me things.
Except…
I couldn’t hurt her.
At the mere thought of it, the strangest sensation of protectiveness roared inside of me, a beast bigger than my need to feed. Bigger than anything.
“Why?” I demanded, suddenly more interested than I had been.
“The police think I killed him, and I need to clear my name.” Surprise flashed over her face, almost as if she couldn’t believe she’d told me that.
“You live in the human world?”
“I do.”
“But…why?” Why would any supernatural ever do that? I couldn’t imagine hiding what I was.
“We’re not here to talk about me.”
“Oh, but I’d like to.” And I meant it. I wanted to know everything about her, even as I marveled at this new interest. I hadn’t been interested in much of anything in years.
But her…
She ignited it.
I tried again to compel her to look at me, but she didn’t.
I still couldn’t control her.
She watched the space just to the left of me, her muscles tense and her expression wary. “You’ve been dancing around this. Just give me some answers.”
She was right. The frustration seemed to bubble inside her, and I didn’t want to drive her off.
Anyway, I was interested in the murder, too.
“I don’t know who killed the man. I was there just after it happened.” Her arrival on the scene had driven me off, in fact. I’d left before I’d seen her coming, once I’d sensed someone else was arriving on the scene. If I’d seen her, I would have stuck around longer. Instead, her vision had snared me once I was several streets over, dragging me back to the scene of the crime—or at least dragging my consciousness back. Such interest in another was uncharacteristic of me.
“There’s really nothing you can tell me?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I find that very hard to believe.”
“Check his organs. See if anything is missing.” I hadn’t had time to do it myself.
Confusion twisted her features, and her eyes darkened with fear. “What? Missing? There was no blood or wound.”
“There doesn’t need to be.”
“You’re not talking about some long-ago surgery, are you?”
“No. He’d be missing an organ that he needs. If he’s missing one at all.” I shrugged. “It’s a hunch, but it could be inaccurate.”
“So the smashed head wasn’t the death wound?” She shifted back from me slightly, igniting my instinct to pursue. The desire to stalk her surged to life, and I forced it back, hating it just a little.
“How do you know so much about this if you’re not the murderer?” she asked.
“A weapon was stolen from me, and I was tracking it. I believe it was used on the victim, but not by my own hand.”
“And if it was, then one of his organs might be missing?” Her breathing quickened, as if discussing the murder—with the possible murderer, as far as she was concerned—was scaring her.
Her fear made my heart thud faster, and I stepped toward her, unable to stop. A vision of pressing her against the desk, of feeling her softness against me, flashed into my mind. In my head, I could hear her cry out, feel the warmth of her skin under my lips, her flesh under my fangs.
Desire pulsed inside me, heating my skin and quickening my heart. I hated the instinct that surged to arousal—to catch, to subdue, to take. It was nearly as old as I was, but I hadn’t always hated it. Once, I’d reveled in what I’d been made into.
No longer. Yet she ignited it in me, and I had no idea what to do about that.
Carrow
The Devil of Darkvale stepped toward me, his dark eyes flashing with something that made me shiver. Fangs had appeared in his mouth, and his eyes glinted with an icy heat that mimicked the hot and cold streaking through me.
I jerked my gaze from his, my mind prickling with awareness. Fear tightened everything inside me, but…