“Then I guess I’ll be paying him a visit.” He smiled at her. “Good thing I brought you over. You might not have gotten any more details about the killer, but you sure did just speed up the—”
“Oh, I know more about the killer,” she interrupted, frowning at him, feeling slightly insulted. What did he think she’d been doing? Daydreaming over a dead body?
He pulled out his notebook. “Then tell me.”
Emily licked her lips. “This wasn’t an impulse kill. Nothing’s disturbed. Nothing’s taken. The guy came to the house with the attack already planned out. He knew where the security cameras were, and he knew how to hide from them. That probably means he’s been here before, that he knew the victim.”
She pointed to the blood on the wall. “When there is this much violence, this much rage, it’s usually very, very personal.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” So far, Colin wasn’t sounding particularly impressed.
She dropped her hand, squared her shoulders as she faced him. “The killer had to be strong to overpower Preston. The victim was what, six foot two? One hundred eighty pounds? He would have fought back, would have fought as hard as he could.” Her lips tightened for a moment. “But then, supernaturals are always stronger than humans, aren’t they? Preston never had a chance.”
“No,” Colin agreed, his voice quiet. “He didn’t.”
When they left the house, they found a reporter waiting for them. A blond woman with close-cropped hair stood on the walkway, a black microphone clutched in her hands. A cameraman stood behind her, his face partially obscured by the bulk of his equipment.
“Detective Gyth!” The woman’s face lit with hungry enthusiasm. “Darla Mitchell, News Flash Five. I have a few questions for you.”
“Shit.” The word was a bare breath of sound, but it reached Emily’s ears, and for a second, she almost smiled at the disgust she heard.
But then Darla shoved the microphone into her face. “Dr. Drake, my sources say that you’ve joined this case as a profiler.”
“Ah…” Her sources? She’d been on the case for less than an hour. How had the woman already found out about her?
Colin stepped in front of Emily. “The Atlanta PD has no comment at this time.”
Darla tried to squirm around him. “But what about Dr. Drake? Does she have—”
Colin grabbed the bobbing microphone, leaned close, and snapped, “No comment.”
“Fine!” Darla snarled. “Cut it, Jake!”
Emily stepped to Colin’s side just as Jake lowered the camera.
A hard glare twisted Darla’s pretty face. “You can’t keep information from the public forever, you know, Gyth!”
“When I have information, I’ll give it to you.” He smiled. Okay, well, he flashed a lot of teeth. Not really a smile so much as a baring of fangs.
Darla growled at him, then spun on her two-inch heels and stomped back to the News Flash Five van.
The cameraman studied Gyth and Emily. Then he sighed. “She’s been pissed since Channel Three scooped her on the Butcher story.” His eyes narrowed on Emily. “Dr. Drake…I’ve heard a lot about you.”
A tingle of awareness skated down her spine as she stared into his golden eyes.
He was Other.
He smiled at her, and for just a second, his eyes shifted, the gold changed into a midnight black.
Demon eyes.
She felt his power in the air then. Weak, low-level power, maybe a two or three on the demon scale.
“If there’s anything I can do for you, Doctor, or if you decide that you want to talk to News Flash Five, give me a call.” He handed her his card.
“Jake!”
Sighing, he glanced back over his shoulder. Darla stood beside the van, arms crossed, eyes glittering.
“Well, guess I’ll talk to you both another time.” With a little salute, he hoisted the camera and hurried toward the van.
“Looks like the vultures have already started circling.” Colin shook his head and marched down the sidewalk.
She followed on his heels. “Gyth, did you know they were going to be here?”
He jerked open her door, narrowing his eyes. “No.” Then comprehension lit his face. “What, you think I brought you here as some kind of setup?”
Well, the thought had crossed her mind. “You said I’d be on the six o’clock news soon. Looks like you were right.”
His fingers tightened around the metal door. “I said you’d be on the news because the DA is going to hold a press conference about the case in the next few days. You’ll be at the conference.”
Emily climbed into the Jeep. “So, for the record, you didn’t know Darla was going to be here?”
He slammed the door. “No, I sure as hell didn’t.”
She blew out a hard breath as he circled the Jeep and jumped into the driver’s seat.
“And just so you know, Doc, you aren’t to talk to reporters alone, ever.” He slanted her a simmering glare. “So you might as well just throw away the card that slick passed you.”
“I think I’ll just hold on to it.” It wasn’t the first time that one of the Other had passed a card to her as a signal that he wanted something.
“Fine.” He cranked the engine, sending the vehicle roaring to life.
Emily glanced down at the card in her hands. JAKE DONNELLEY, CAMERAMAN, NEWS FLASH FIVE. His contact information was in clear, bold letters at the bottom.
She flipped the card over.
Have information on the case. Meet me at Paradise Found. 10 P.M.
“Ah, Gyth?”
“What?” He braked at a traffic light and glanced her way.
“I don’t think that guy wants to ask me questions.” Holding up the card, she showed him the note.
His brows snapped together. “What in the hell?”
A horn blared behind them. Colin swore and stomped on the gas.
No, Jake doesn’t want to ask her questions. But it sure looks like he might have a few things to tell her.
Colin turned into the parking lot of an old convenience store, braked, and spun to confront her. “Let me see that card.”
This time, she handed it over.
He whistled soundlessly. “Sonofabitch.” His gaze rose to capture hers. “Why’d he give this to you?” Suspicion laced his words.
She glanced away, shrugged.
“Emily…”
She jerked. He’d never called her Emily before. Usually, he just called her Doc in that slightly mocking drawl of his. Hearing her name on his lips now seemed strangely intimate.
“Why’d the guy give you the card instead of me?”
Her lips parted—
“Shit.” His fist rapped against the steering wheel. “The guy’s Other, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” There didn’t seem to be much point in denying it.
“So what is he? Shifter? Warlock? Psychic?”
“He’s a demon.” Most people didn’t really understand demons. They thought demons were servants