Hotter After Midnight (13 page)

His fingers trailed over her lips. “Just don’t make me wait too long. I won’t be a gentleman forever.” Then he stepped back, clearing her way.

Emily snagged her glasses, drew in a deep breath, and was immediately wrapped in his rich, masculine scent. “Wh-where should I sleep?” Jesus, she was stuttering like some kind of schoolgirl.

“Well, I’d hoped you’d sleep with me.” Yes, that was another point she’d managed to figure out on her own.

“But since I’m not…” Her brows lifted as she stared meaningfully up at him.

His lips hitched into a half smile. “Since you’re not, you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch.”

“Wow. You are trying to be a gentleman, aren’t you? I’m impressed.” And she was also planning to jump on his offer. Bed versus couch. She’d definitely be selfish and take the cushy choice.

Emily brushed by him.

“It’s the second door on the right, Doc.” His hand slipped down her back, rested for the briefest of moments on the curve of her buttocks. “Have good dreams.”

Since her dreams would probably all be about him, and he’d be naked in them, she figured her dreams would definitely be good, if extremely frustrating.

It was going to be a long night.

And she didn’t even have dry panties to change into. Talk about sucking.

He gazed up at the doctor’s house. All of the windows were black. Had been black all night.

She hadn’t come home. He’d waited for her, waited hours to see her, and she hadn’t come home.

Where was she?
Where?

A slow rage had been building inside of him. Building, building…

The demon was out tonight. She was somewhere in the city, working her evil.

He couldn’t let her continue. Couldn’t let her keep attacking innocents.

He would stop her.

Evil had to be destroyed.

She
had to be destroyed.

Soon. The doctor’s time would run out.

The demon would die.

“I
think it’s time for an
Other 101
lesson.”

Emily glanced up from her files, brows raised, as Colin walked into her office.

Vanessa stood behind him, a rather sheepish expression on her face. “Sorry, boss, but when he found out you weren’t with a client—”

“I decided to let myself in.” He flashed her a smile and strolled toward the couch. “We need to talk.”

“Well, that
is
what most people do when they come here,” she murmured. She looked back at Vanessa, certain her assistant had heard the
Other 101
comment. Since Vanessa was
Other,
a hereditary witch, she figured it didn’t really matter. Vanessa had been with her for five years, and Emily trusted her to keep quiet about the cases and people in her office. “It’s all right, Vanessa. I can talk to the detective for a few minutes.” Until her twelve o’clock arrived, anyway.

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed, and Emily realized she wasn’t quite as taken with Mr. Sexy Voice as she’d been when he’d called on the phone.

“Fine.” Vanessa’s plump lips had little white lines around them. “But next time”—she jabbed an index finger in the air toward him—

“he’d better wait until I escort him inside.”

“Sorry.” Colin looked anything but.

Vanessa spun on her heel and marched out, shutting the door smartly behind her.

Perhaps a mild warning was in order here. After all, the man had come asking for information on the
Other.
“If I were you, I probably wouldn’t make her angry.”

He lowered himself onto the sofa. The leather creaked beneath his weight. “Cause she’s a witch?”

Emily blinked. How had he—

Colin laughed. “Don’t look so shocked, Doc. I might not have your handy little gift, but I am a detective. Trained to observe.” He winked. “And I observed her reading a spell book when I walked inside the lobby.”

Mental note.
Tell Vanessa to keep her private reading material at home.

She cleared her throat. “Just what is it that you want to know?” She was trying to keep things professional between them, trying hard despite the fact that she’d awoken less than five hours ago to find him standing at the foot of her bed—
his bed
—wearing only a towel wrapped low on his hips and gazing at her with lust in his eyes.

She shifted her legs beneath the desk, feeling warmth rush through her at the memory. He’d told her he’d come inside for some clothes. But she could tell he’d wanted more than clothing. The thick bulge of his arousal would have clued in even the most naive of women.

And after a night of dreaming about him, she’d wanted more, too.

But Colin had turned away from her, grabbed a handful of clothes from his closet, then disappeared.

He’d taken her home less than thirty minutes later, and after he’d done a thorough check of her house, he’d left her.

He’d kissed her, then he’d left her. A hard, swift kiss that she could still feel.

“So this is where the magic happens, huh?” He wasn’t lying on the couch, but sitting up, hands draped over his knees.

“I don’t necessarily think of it as magic,” she said carefully. Magic was a word generally reserved for the
Other.
They had magical powers. She was just a human who had a high psychic sensitivity to the
Other
.

“Umm.” He cocked his head to the side. “Tell me about them.”

“Them?”

“The
Other
.” His eyes never left hers. “I realized last night that I know damn little about”—a brief hesitation, then—“my kind. And that lack of knowledge could get me into some serious shit.”

Ah, yes, it could. “You’ve known others like yourself before, of course?” She’d figured it’d be better if they started with something he knew. They could begin with shifters and then build from there.

“I’ve met a few others. Haven’t exactly had deep meaningful conversations with ’em, if you know what I mean. And I’ve seen some vamps, a few demons—”

“What?” The pen she’d absently picked up fell from her fingers.
Haven’t exactly had deep meaningful conversations
? He made it sound as if other shifters were as foreign to him as vampires. “But your parents—”

“They died when I was a couple of months old.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him, as if it were just some random event that had happened long ago and didn’t have any meaning to him now. “I got put in foster care after that.”

Her breath rushed out in a fast expulsion. “What did you think was happening the first time you changed?” To shift without someone around for guidance, God, it must have been a nightmare.

He turned his head. Gazed out the window. “I thought I was dying.”

Emily said nothing. Just waited.

“My bones snapped, twisted.” His lips thinned. “Do you know what it’s like to hear the crunch of your own bones?”

No, she didn’t. “B-but I didn’t think the change was painful.” She’d been told it sometimes felt like a mild sunburn spreading through a person’s body.

“The first time it is. Damn painful. Like your insides are exploding. Everything reshapes, transforms. My nails changed first, grew into claws. Then my teeth—they got sharper, longer. Then the fur grew.” Colin stopped, shaking his head. He looked back at her, and she could see the painful shadows of his past in the depths of his eyes. “I tried to call for help, but by that time I didn’t have a human’s voice anymore.”

“Once you’d changed, how did you feel then?”

“Like a freak.”

Emily grabbed her pad, began jotting notes by rote.
Traumatic first shift. No knowledge of his kind.

“I was an animal.” His jaw clenched tight. “I didn’t know what the hell had happened to me or how the hell I was going to change back. And for a while I thought…”

Her pen was poised over the pad. “What did you think?”

His eyes narrowed, dropped to the pen and paper. “I’m not one of your patients, Doc. I don’t need an analysis.”

Her fingers tightened around the cool metal base of the ballpoint pen. “I thought you might want to talk about—”

“About what? My screwed-up childhood? The ten foster homes I lived in? The first time I changed into a damn animal and thought I was going insane?”

Actually, yes. The pen scribbled across the pad.
Feared insanity. Serious hostility issues.

“Emily.”

She froze. Lifted her head to stare at him.

Colin rose and stalked toward her. He leaned over her desk, bracing his hands on the old wood. “I don’t need you to poke around in my past and figure out why—” For a moment, his gaze dropped to the pad and his lips tightened as he said, “I’ve got
hostility
issues
.”

She decided it would be best not to point out right then that he was definitely exhibiting said hostility issues. So she tried to be tactful. “Some people think the key to a successful future is facing a painful past.”

“Then those people are fucking idiots. A painful past needs to be shoved in a cold, dark grave and left to rot.”

Well, that was one perspective. Very carefully, Emily placed her pen down. “I shouldn’t have started to—” She broke off, clearing her throat, and realized that she was embarrassed.

Slipping into psychologist mode was second nature to her. And Colin’s pain, it had just called out to her. She licked her lips, tried again, “I shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t have started screwing with my head?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t screwing with your head, as you so kindly put it.”

“Lady, you make a living screwing with people’s minds.” He leaned forward another inch.

She didn’t like the way he was towering over her. Asserting his dominance. Showing that he was the big, strong detective and she was the psychologist who needed to mind her own business.

Her own temper began to spark. Emily shoved to her feet. “I was trying to
help
you, Gyth. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re carrying around a hell of a lot of baggage.” And rage. Lots of rage.

She placed her hands deliberately on the table and leaned into him. Close enough to kiss. Or hit. And she was very tempted to do both.

Colin stared back at her, those crystal blue eyes of his glinting with emotion. “I told you about my past because I was talking to
you,
Emily Drake. Not the Monster Doctor.”

Understanding filled her. “It’s hard for me to stop being the Monster Doctor.” Her voice was softer. She’d been working with the
Other
for so long, trying to heal their minds, and she’d nearly forgotten how to turn off the doctor.

“We’re way off topic,” he muttered, and stepped back, rolling his shoulders. “I didn’t come here to drag up my shitty childhood.”

Emily licked her lips and realized that she’d very nearly screwed things up with Colin. She needed to think more like a woman with him and less like a psychologist. “Right. Sorry.” And she was. Sorry that she’d pressured him, sorry that she’d tried to make him into a patient.

“Just don’t try it again, Doc.”

That she couldn’t promise. “Look, Colin, it’s kinda hard to turn off, you know?” He’d been on her couch, in her office, and when he’d started talking she’d slipped into counselor mode.

“Try.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll see what I can do, and, hey, how about you try not to be such a jerk?”

He blinked, obviously caught off guard by the insult she’d just delivered in her soft, I’m-a-Professional voice.

Then he tossed back his head and laughed.

Emily fought the smile that curved her lips. Good. Looked like they were back on even ground.

“Agreed.” Colin strolled around her office, eyeing her bookshelves and the framed Rorschach inkblot pictures on her walls.

After a few moments, he said, “I need to know about them. Need to know what I’m gonna be dealing with.”

Yes, she understood that. Colin was ill prepared to deal with the world of the
Other,
especially considering his own rough introduction to the
Other
world. But before she could begin his lessons, there were a few other questions that she needed to ask.

“So you’ve come across other shifters?” All of the
Other
were born with an instinctive ability to recognize their own kind. Demons saw through the veil of glamour to other demons. Shifters could scent one another, thanks to their heightened sense of smell.

Witches and wizards felt the power pull of their brethren.

Like to like.
It was the way it had always been.

And for whatever reason, Emily had been born with the ability to sense them all. Even though she wasn’t kindred to any of them.

Colin touched the spine of one of her books. “Yeah, I have. Once or twice.”

“You could…smell them, right? Smell the difference between a shifter and a human?” As far as she knew, shifters didn’t see the beasts they carried. They didn’t know about the golden glow that cloaked their bodies. It was just something she saw.

“Yeah, I can smell ’em.” He shook his head. “We all smell like animals.”

Her nose wrinkled at that. She rather liked the way Colin smelled.

“Well, all the
Other
have a way of sensing their kind. Demons can look through the glamour and see the black eyes that mark them, witches feel a surge of power in the air when another is close, djinn can hear the thoughts of others like them, charmers can—”

He glanced back at her, a black brow raised. “What’s a charmer?”

“You’ve heard of snake charmers, right?”

Colin nodded. “Big in India. Those guys who carry around cobras in baskets.”

“Right.” Well, partially right. “Charmers are beings who can communicate with certain animals. They can talk to them.” Some charmers talked to snakes, some to birds, some to dogs or cats.

“Just how many types of
Other
exist?”

Oh, now that was a hard one. “Think of every legend of every magical being you’ve ever heard and then imagine all those stories are true. Then you’ve got the
Other.
” Hundreds, thousands of types. Some kind and benevolent. Some downright evil and dangerous.

Just like humans.

“This city seems to have more than its share of supernaturals. When I lived in Grisam, Illinois, there weren’t any others like me.”