Her nipples pebbled, aching, and the stiff points pushed against the soft silk of her gown.

She straddled him. The bedsheets covered his hips, but she could feel his arousal nudging against her core.

The man was most definitely aroused.

No. No. This shouldn’t be happening. She had to stop, she—

His fingers eased under the spaghetti straps of her gown. His callused hands felt so good as they eased over the length of her arms, pushing down the gown and baring her breasts.

He tore his mouth from hers. Eased back so that he could get a better view of her. “God, baby, you’re the best dream I’ve ever had.”

The man had no idea.

She could feel the spark of magic in the air as his lust grew. His hunger swirled around her in waves of pulsing need. Her skin began to tingle with the promise of such pleasure.

And such dark power. Hers to take.

The strength it would give her…

But she shouldn’t. Cara shook her head, fighting for her own control as arousal had her sex moistening and her back arching in silent demand. No, this was wrong, she—

His lips closed over her breast. Pulled the mound deep into his mouth. Sucked.

Cara shuddered as her fingers dug into his arms. His teeth pressed against her, lightly scoring her flesh, and then he was licking her, long, hungry swipes of his tongue that had her moaning and twisting against him as she fought for more, more.

His hands slid down her body. Eased over her stomach, where the gown had pooled in a soft heap. His knuckles brushed across her belly button. Smoothed over her abdomen.

“Todd—” His name broke from her lips. She didn’t usually speak while dreamwalking. It was too dangerous. Power was in her voice. A command that had his head snapping up and his eyes flying to hers.

His cock was rock hard now and she realized that she was moving her hips against his. Rocking back and forth. Faster with each stroke of her body.

Red stained his cheeks. His pupils dilated as she watched. And his lips gleamed with a faint sheen of moisture.

Cara fought for sanity once more. “No, I-I can’t—”

In a instant, he tumbled her back onto the bed. “It’s a dream, baby. We can do anything.” He kissed her again. A kiss so sweet and soft that she swore she felt her eyes fill.

If only…

But some dreams could turn into nightmares far too easily, and if they didn’t stop soon, Todd would learn that lesson. Every moment she stayed with him, she was stealing a little of his life force. Taking a bit of his power as she stole into his mind.

She’d sworn not to take from a lover again.

Damn it, she hated to take!

It reminded her that she was little more than a parasite, living off the power and pleasure of others.

Her hands lifted, caught his face in her palms. She wanted to keep kissing him, to let the passion rage.

Not a choice for her.

His head lifted. His gaze met hers. “You feel so real.”

Her lips curved in a smile she knew was sad. “Close your eyes for me.”

He obeyed at once, but then, she’d put force into her voice, a compulsion he couldn’t resist. Humans were always at their weakest in the dream state.

Her index finger smoothed over his lips. Then she tilted her head, just a few inches, and urged his mouth back to hers. His lips were parted as he readied to kiss her—

She blew a light stream of air into his mouth. A soft, sweet stream that she knew would taste of magic.

His eyes opened, bleary, confused.

“Sleep,” she whispered the command.

Then she closed her own eyes, and left the dream.

“Oh, damn.” Cara’s eyes jerked open and she glared up at the ceiling.

What in the world had just happened?

A walk in dreams. She hadn’t snuck into a man’s dreams in over five years. She’d vowed never to enter without permission again.

Then she’d gone and plunged straight into Todd’s head.

Damn.

Jumping from the bed, she ran toward her mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes wide, hair tangled, skin faintly glowing.

Glowing. Crap. She’d taken from him. Stolen his power as her spirit had seduced his body.

Her head began to shake. A hard back-and-forth motion. She’d taken, and he’d awaken weak now.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispered, confessing to an image that just stared helplessly back at her. Dreamwalking took focus, intent—hell, often a meditative state. Stealing into the dreams of others was a skill that succubi didn’t master until well after sexual maturity. It was one of their greatest weapons, and by far one of the most dangerous.

Cara swallowed and tasted the ash of guilt on her tongue. She’d been dead tired, certainly not possessing the strength needed to slip into a human’s secret dreams. She never should have been able to cross the miles and find Todd’s mind.

It shouldn’t have happened, but it had.

She’d just have to make absolutely certain it didn’t happen again, because, if it did, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to hold on to her control.

The temptation to take the handsome detective was just too strong.

“Shit!” Todd woke up, instantly and completely conscious.

Damn it, he was alone.

His hands fisted over the sheets. He could have sworn that Cara was with him. Holding him. Kissing him.

A dull ache pounded in his temples as he rose from the bed. Not enough sleep, he figured, glancing at the clock to find out that he’d been in bed a total of four hours.

Not nearly long enough.

He ran a hand over his face, and, for a second, he could have sworn that he smelled her.

Cara.

The woman was seriously fucking him up. The last time he’d had a dream that hot about a woman—well, hell, he didn’t think he’d ever had a dream that intense.

He could still feel her satiny skin beneath his fingertips, still feel the curves of her breasts.

His cock was hard and heavy with need. A need that he knew only one woman could slake.

Shit.

Todd headed for the bathroom. He needed a cold shower. It would wake him up and chase the woman from his mind.

He yanked on the water, sending the powerful stream jetting full blast, then he stepped back, caught the flash of his reflection in the mirror—

He frowned. What the hell?

His gaze swept past the faint scars on his chest and side. Instead, his stare dropped down to his left arm. His eyes narrowed as he studied the five small half-moon marks on his flesh. Wounds that looked just like they’d been made by a woman’s nails.

“No damn way.” He lifted his right arm. Studied the biceps. Saw the same small wounds.

In his dream, Cara’s fingers had bit into the flesh of his arms as she’d held tight to him. Her nails had pierced his skin and he’d been aware of the faint sting, and of the pleasure of feeling her hips press against his.

But that had just been a dream. A hot fantasy that followed him while he slept.

He ran his fingers over the marks. Felt the raised skin.

“No damn way,” he repeated, even as a wave of unease rippled through him.

No other woman had caused the wounds. He’d stopped seeing his last lover, another cop at the precinct, just over a month before.

His stomach knotted. So how the hell had he gotten a woman’s scratch marks on his arms?

Cara.

Chapter 4

The lady’s alibis checked out.

Part of Todd was thrilled by that news—a very, very large part—because the confirmation meant that the delectable Cara was now fair game for him.

Another part was seriously pissed, and worried. If Cara wasn’t the killer, then the murderer had set her up. No other explanation jived for him.

A killer who liked to play games— damn bad news.

It was Wednesday night. It had been two days since he’d last seen Cara, since he’d gotten to touch those perfect lips and feel her soft tongue stroke against his.

He’d stayed away, knowing he had to keep his distance until he verified her alibis for the murders. Sex with a suspect wasn’t something he particularly wanted complicating his life.

But the lady had been cleared now.

According to Colin, five waitresses and two bartenders had placed Cara at Paradise Found right at the time of the first two kills.

And one very nosy, sharp-eyed, elderly neighbor had backed up her story about being home alone during the time of House’s murder.

Ms. Murphy, former schoolteacher and extreme art enthusiast—judging by the dozens of canvases in her den—had cheerfully told him that “I saw her come racing home right after five. In that bright red car of hers. Went in, stayed in.” A beetled frown had pulled down her white brows. “I thought a man would come and see her, but,” a rather disappointed sigh followed, “no one came that night.”

“So she was home from a little after five until ten p.m.?” He’d asked.

She’d jerked her thumb to a canvas covered in dark gray paint. “I was on the porch, trying a new technique. I call it night painting…”

“Uh, huh.”

“I was there till midnight.” Her fingers, stained with paint, had floated in the air between them. “Cara never left. I’d swear my life on it.” The lady had stuck with that story even after repeated questioning from both him and Colin.

The desk clerk had also been shown a photo lineup. The guy had stared at the line of six blondes, and shaken his head. “I-I don’t think I s-see her.” His words had been husky, the beer still strong on his breath.

“You don’t think or you know she’s not there?” Colin had pressed.

The bleary eyes had cleared for a moment. “She ain’t there.”

So, now, it appeared that Cara was in the clear.

Absolutely perfect.

A car horn sounded nearby—close enough to have Todd jerking in his seat. He was parked outside Paradise Found. He swore softly as he realized he’d been sitting in the car, staring at absolutely nothing, for the last ten minutes.

But, well, he had a few problems on his hands. He had to convince a woman who thought he was a major asshole that he just might be dateable.

Might.

He also had to catch a killer.

His life was damn busy these days.

With a harsh exhalation of air, Todd finally left his car. His weapon pressed into his back as he walked, and as he drew closer to the dark doors of the club, he couldn’t help but remember his last trip to the bar.

He’d had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting Niol for the first time then. Strange bastard. Since Colin had been the one to verify Cara’s alibis at Paradise Found, it had been nearly two months since Todd’s last, very memorable, visit to the club.

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Niol again.

How the hell had he done it? Todd wondered. How had the bastard managed to toss me across the room, without seeming to move so much as a finger? That day, when he and his partner had come to interrogate Niol, things had gotten out of control, fast.

One minute, Todd had grabbed the guy’s shoulder. The next, he’d found himself across the room, lying on top of a shattered table.

He’d known there was something odd about Niol from the first moment he met the guy. Every nerve in his body had gone on alert and the hair on his nape had risen.

That fierce awareness happened to him sometimes. Usually, it happened when the shit was about to hit the fan. When a perp was about to pull a gun or when all hell was seconds away from breaking loose.

He liked to think of it as his body’s warning system. A strong instinct. Whatever it was, it had never led him wrong before.

He hadn’t felt that response with Cara—at least, not at first. But when he’d walked into her house and gotten closer to her, all his systems had sent out a flashing alert.

He’d originally thought his gut was telling him the woman was a killer. Now, well, now he wondered if his body was just trying to tell him that the lady was pure danger to his soul.

“What the hell do you want, cop?” The snarl came from one of the bouncers, a guy who’d planted his body squarely in front of Todd’s path.

Smothering a sigh, Todd glanced up, way up. Shit. He knew the tattooed giant in front of him. The asshole had been guarding the door the last time he’d paid a visit to Paradise Found. “I want in,” he said simply.

The bouncer laughed at that, a deep rumbling laugh, and he nudged his sidekick, a short, dark, heavily muscled guy whose nostrils were currently flaring as he leaned in close to Todd.

“Not our kind,” the smaller one mumbled.

What the hell? Todd pulled a twenty out of his pocket. Shoved it at the giant jerk. “Open the damn door.”

A smirk. The cash disappeared in a instant. “Yer funeral, cop.”

The doors opened. The scream of a guitar pierced his ears and the rumble of voices danced into the night.

He paused on the threshold. “Your boss in?”

“Your lucky night, man,” from the shorter guy. “Niol’s gone hunting.”

And just what did that mean?

Then he forgot about the question as he caught sight of a woman with long, golden hair.

Cara.

He stepped into Paradise, and heard the crackle of laughter behind him.

The bar was packed. Literally teeming with bodies. Men, women. Most of ’em looked like they were anywhere from twenty to forty years old. Some were huddling in shadows. Some were all but having sex on the dance floor.

As he walked toward the bar, his nostrils twitched as he caught a familiar scent. It was…blood. He’d worked enough crime scenes to know that coppery stench. Where was—

The man to the left of him lifted his head. Blood streamed down his chin. The woman in his arms moaned, turning her head just a fraction. Todd saw the marks on her then. Two deep holes in the side of her neck.