wasn’t going to slink away from his case. Sure, she knew the routine—don’t let the stories get personal. Every reporter’s mantra.
But it was too late. This kill, it was personal.
She wasn’t about to back off.
Niol and Colin were talking, lips moving fast, but the words were far too soft for her to hear. After a moment, Niol inclined his head and marched away from the detective. Colin looked furious, his face tight and his body stiff.
Holly knew she wasn’t going to be getting any help from the cop.
Niol headed toward the waiting shadows.
But the demon…
He was a whole other story.
Her breath hitched as a spike of excitement had her blood heating.
“Holly…” Ben’s voice was high-pitched—a sure sign the man was getting worried. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m getting this story.” She tossed him a hard smile, one that she knew showed a lot of teeth. “One way or another.” Even if she had to walk into the devil’s den.
Actually, that idea didn’t sound bad at all.
Time to go into the darkness and see what secrets she could find.
After all, she was a reporter—a reporter who always got her story.
The pretty redhead walked into his hell as if she owned the place.
Chin up, slim shoulders back, one hand cocked on her hip. Oh, yeah, serious attitude.
But, as he watched her, Niol Lapen couldn’t help but wonder…when he got closer to the lady, would he see fear lurking in her too-green eyes?
Because he knew that she’d been afraid of him before. The last time she’d crossed the threshold into the bar that some thought of as Paradise and others knew as hell, there had been fear in Holly Storm’s gaze.
Not that she’d let the fear stop her.
And he’d always rather enjoyed fear in his prey.
Niol had decided months ago that the reporter would make wonderful prey.
He propped his elbows on the bar and kept his gaze on the woman who was slowly strolling across Paradise Found. She’d changed her clothes. The dressy top and the dark pants were gone. Now she wore a short dress, black, one that emphasized the pale silk of her skin, one that flashed the tempting swell of her perfect breasts and kissed the tops of her thighs.
Um. He’d like to do that. Like to kiss and lick those long legs. He could all too easily imagine the feel of that smooth skin against his lips and tongue.
His eyes narrowed. The lady knew how to dress. A point in her favor.
She also knew how to find trouble. Another point for Holly.
“Hell.” The disgust came from the bartender behind him. It was the kind of disgust Niol normally felt for reporters, but not for Holly. “What’s she doing here?” Marc demanded.
Niol never took his gaze off Holly. Her right hand clutched a small black bag—bet she’s got some kind of recorder in there—and her high heels clicked across the floor. He could hear every move she made. The bar, his second home, was packed—a good thing. Yet his senses—damn strong senses seeing as how he was a level-ten demon—were wholly focused on her.
If he tried, he bet he’d even be able to smell her. That light, rich scent of lavender from her lotion.
“Want me to kick her ass out, boss?” Marc asked, and the soft clink of a glass sounded.
A smile curved Niol’s lips. “That’s not exactly what I want to happen to the lady’s ass.” No, he had other plans for Holly…and her gorgeous ass.
It had been too long since he’d taken a lover. At least a month. But he’d been dealing with killers and death. A guy could get distracted.
And now there was this other bastard on the streets.
If another demon died…
He lifted his drink. Drained the shot glass in one quick gulp. The hot burn of the liquid slid down his throat. “Don’t worry about the reporter, Marc.” Though he was a pretty recent hire at the bar, Marc still knew the score. He also knew that cops and reporters normally weren’t too welcome in Paradise. “I’ll take care of her.” Very good care of her.
Holly Storm. She was the newest reporter at News Flash Five. Smart. Resourceful. A real looker, too. Plump lips. Small nose. High, glass-sharp cheekbones.
Oh, yeah, the reporter was sexy.
She was also trouble because she knew far, far too much about his private world of demons and darkness.
Most humans didn’t know that the monsters they feared in their dreams—the vampires, werewolves, everything that made the night go bump—were all real. Humans were too worried about their nine-to-five jobs, too busy worrying about getting robbed by the guy in line next to them at the grocery store or getting carjacked at the red light on the wrong side of town. They never stopped and actually looked at the world around them.
Because if the humans would just jerk off their damn blinders, they’d see they had a whole hell of a lot more to fear on this Earth than they imagined, and that some nightmares could be very, very real.
Holly had first lost her blinders months ago. For a time, she’d even planned to air her discovery on her precious news station.
Of course, her plans had changed when he’d brought the fires of hell to her feet. Rather literally.
At that moment, her gaze locked on his. Her eyes widened, just a bit. The taking-my-time walk became faster as she tried to hurry to him and—
And a vampire stepped in her path.
Niol’s fingers drummed on the bar. The undead asshole had just blocked his view. He’d give him five seconds to move, then—
Holly stepped around the vamp, her jaw locked. Her full lips—painted red, Niol’s favorite color—pressed into a line. Ah, so the reporter wasn’t in the mood for—
The vamp touched her. Grabbed her arm. Then jerked her up against his chest.
Niol stilled and a hot rush of power and fury flooded through his body. Even as the floor began to tremble, he was storming across the room.
“Holly.” His voice cut through the music and the shrill voices and the fake laughs.
The vamp, skin drained of color, eyes sunken, craned his head toward him. “Oh, shit.” He shoved Holly aside.
She stumbled, just a moment, on her two-inch heels. “Nice, you jerk—”
The vampire bared his fangs at her and growled.
Holly’s
