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Midnight Sins

(The Midnight Trilogy, Book 2)

Cynthia Eden

Cara Maloan doesn’t look like a monster. In fact, the gorgeous blond nightclub singer possesses heavenly attributes that make Atlanta detective Todd Brooks sure there’s a higher power somewhere. But a twisted killer is leaving a trail of bodies in seedy hotel rooms across town. The male victims show no wounds–it’s as if the life was simply drained from them. And right now, mysterious Cara is Todd’s only suspect.

Cara knows it’s foolish to be so drawn to a man who thinks she’s a murderer. She also knows Detective Brooks would find the truth even harder to swallow. Cara is one of the Other, a race of powerful, paranormal creatures who live among humans. Cara’s particular abilities make men putty in her hands–all except this rugged, sexy-as-hell detective. But now someone, or something, has singled Cara out for serious payback…

As uneasy trust gives way to mind-blowing desire, Cara and Todd will go head-to-head with a killer whose mission is deeply personal, and who’s determined to serve up revenge that’s hotter than hellfire, and just as deadly…

Chapter 1

The guy in the bed had enjoyed killer sex.

Detective Todd Brooks stared down at the naked man. The guy’s hands were tied to the bed frame with a thick, white rope. His arms were stretched above him, and his legs sprawled across the mattress. An open condom wrapper littered the floor to his right, but there was no sign of the condom, or of the person who’d bound the man.

Poor dead bastard.

“Someone cleaned up. ” The rumbling voice came from his partner, Colin Gyth.

Todd grunted and let his gaze drift over the bed. Yeah, Colin was right. Someone had done a Class A job of screwing their crime scene. Maybe the forensics unit would be able to find more evidence, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the slight impression that marred the sheets on the left side of the body, an impression that could have been the outline of a woman.

But whoever the mystery lady was, she sure as hell had gotten out of Dodge.

“Heart attack?” Colin murmured, crouching near the foot of the bed.

A possibility. The guy looked fit enough. He was muscled, appeared to be in his late thirties, but, yeah, he could’ve had a heart attack. The sex could have gotten a little too wild, the bondage game too intense.

It could have happened that way.

Could have.

They’d been called to the dingy hotel less than an hour ago. A maid, a currently hysterical teen girl, had discovered the body. There was no ID in the room, no wallet, no personal belongings—even the poor asshole’s clothes were gone.

The desk clerk had him registered as Jon Smith. Not damn original, and not particularly helpful in this situation.

At least the clerk had managed to catch a glimpse of the woman with the guy. A blonde. Long, curly hair. Tall.

Great breasts.

It would have been too much to ask, Todd supposed, for the guy to have actually glimpsed her face.

Where was the woman? Had she been a hooker? Someone the guy had picked up for the night? A street-smart woman who’d taken advantage of a man’s death by stealing him blind? Or maybe she’d been his mistress, meeting in secret while her husband was none the wiser. When her lover had expired, she could have freaked.