“I want you to work for the Bureau of the Occult and the Other. Permanent assignment. It’s already been cleared with your sergeant.”
“I’ve been digging into Temple’s case since I got out of the hospital, and I haven’t gotten anywhere. What do you have?” Hope is a powerful motivator. She’s also cruel and likes to flee as soon as you invite her in. But I grab on and don’t let go.
I need the past three weeks to finally make some sense.
“Temple’s case is…complicated. I can’t let you touch it. But working for us, you’ll finally be able to put your very uniquetalentsto use. One-eleven Cargo Way. Be there in an hour.”
* * *
Sin
“You cannot be serious.” Hunger churns in my gut, and every moment I spend staring at Lieutenant Grayson Eve makes it harder to control myself. She slides a file across the desk, and I snatch it from her long fingers.
Zoe Dawes.
SFPD detective, junior grade, and currently riding a desk.
Thirty-four. Human.
The product of a Catholic grammar school, a Jesuit high school, and a private college.
Oh, she’s going to love me.
Turning my attention back to Eve, I arch a brow. “You do realize pairing her with ademonisn’t the best way to introduce her to the Bureau, right? Try one of the mages. Or a shifter.”
“I’m not doing this for her, Sinclair. Your last assignment was a disaster. Hell, it was almost as bad as Tucson, and I won’t save you from yet another raving mob after your head.”
“That was a one-time lapse of judgement.” Running a hand through my black hair, I wonder if I’ll ever live that fiasco down. “If you had not insisted I work seventy-two hours straight, I would have fed on my own, and—“
Grayson rolls her eyes. “Enough with the excuses, Sinclair. I warned you there’d be consequences for your actions. Now, get the fuck out of here. Your new partner will be here at noon, and you might want to take care of your little…problembefore then.”
Myproblem?Fuck. Shoving the commander’s door as hard as I can with my stomach twisting in on itself, I stalk through the bullpen.
Damn earthquake. Barely a three-point-five, but it was strong enough to cause everyone at Midnight Sin—the nightclub I purchased a decade ago when I moved to San Francisco—to evacuate before I could settle on a snack for the evening.
I catch sight of my reflection in the two-way glass outside Interrogation Room Three and curse again. When I’ve fed, I’m normal enough. But as hungry as I am, I look like a cross between Matt Bomer, Jason Momoa, and Channing Tatum. That is if any of them had irises rimmed with crimson.
Bursting out of headquarters, I turn half a dozen heads—mostly women, but a few men as well—and three of them make a beeline straight for me.
“Are you a movie star?” The meek little mouse who reaches me first doesn’t have enough power in her for a snack, let alone a full meal. But she might be able to take the edge off.
“No,” I purr as I take her arm. “But I’ve often thought I should be. What role would you like me to play?” Steering her towards an alley, I scan the rest of the crowd, ensuring my glamour has taken hold and they see nothing as my tasty treat prattles on about how I’d make the perfect action hero.
“Or you could be a vampire,” she says with a giggle. “And drink my blood. After you...bite me.”
“What’s your name, love?” I have one rule. I refuse to feed from anyone without knowing their name. Well, two rules. No killing. I’m a demon. Not a monster. Not anymore.
She gazes up at me with wide brown eyes. “L-Laura.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Laura.” Choosing the cleanest section of wall in the alley, I cage her, pressing my forearms to the bricks. “May I kiss you?”
“Y-yes,” she stammers, and I crush my lips to hers.
Fuck. So sweet. And stronger than I’d thought. Her life force flows into me as our tongues dance together, and when my teeth scrape her lower lip, she moans. Or perhaps...that sound is coming from me.
Laura melts against the bricks, and soon, I have to wrap my arms around her slight frame to hold her upright. She claws at my shirt, desperate for more, but I probe her mind, seeing a husband, two children—adorable ones, even.
Enough.
