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Fallon Roxbury has a nose for trouble, and the uncanny ability for landing in the middle of it the moment he finds it. While investigating the gruesome murder of a young male prostitute in the red-light district, Fallon gets a whiff of something very strange. Forensics has unidentified hairs. Very unidentified hairs, like nothing in any of the textbooks. Following a tip from a person of interest, Fallon meets Sundown, an apparent hustler who knows a lot more than he will admit.
Getting personally involved with Sundown breaks every rule in the police manual, and in Fallon's own personal code. Sundown is like a drug, and Fallon can't stop at just one hit. When Sundown is forced to reveal the truth, Fallon's world is turned upside down, and he's left with only two options: check himself in for psychiatric evaluation, or accept a new reality with a strange shift.
Shapeshifters, that is.
* * *
Sundown shook his head. "She didn't see Michael Carlton, dead or alive, or anyone else go in or out of the alley until your people showed up."
I clamped down on my anger. "That's good to know, but I need to hear it from her."
"Do you?" He cocked his head to the side. "You're out of luck, Fallon. She is gone from here, and it is beyond my ability to bring her back."
"Why'd she send me here, then?"
His green eyes flashed with his inner fire, anchoring me where I stood. "So I could give you want you needed, Fallon. What you need me to give you again."
"Don't be so damn sure of yourself. I don't need you." I lied, and he knew it, the knowledge reflected back at me in his level gaze.
"Come inside and tell me you do not need what I offer you."
I didn't think I could. My resolve to bully him into giving up Muffin's whereabouts waned with every pheromone-laden breath I took. I stood inside the ring of warmth and scent that surrounded him.
"I can't compromise my investigation further, Sundown. Carlton's parents are flying in to claim the body. I need to have answers for them."
His fingers grazed mine, the gentle touch heating my blood.
"I knew you were a good man. I trust you, Fallon. Will you trust me?"
"I trust you to be nothing but trouble."
Getting personally involved with Sundown breaks every rule in the police manual, and in Fallon's own personal code. Sundown is like a drug, and Fallon can't stop at just one hit. When Sundown is forced to reveal the truth, Fallon's world is turned upside down, and he's left with only two options: check himself in for psychiatric evaluation, or accept a new reality with a strange shift.
Shapeshifters, that is.
* * *
Sundown shook his head. "She didn't see Michael Carlton, dead or alive, or anyone else go in or out of the alley until your people showed up."
I clamped down on my anger. "That's good to know, but I need to hear it from her."
"Do you?" He cocked his head to the side. "You're out of luck, Fallon. She is gone from here, and it is beyond my ability to bring her back."
"Why'd she send me here, then?"
His green eyes flashed with his inner fire, anchoring me where I stood. "So I could give you want you needed, Fallon. What you need me to give you again."
"Don't be so damn sure of yourself. I don't need you." I lied, and he knew it, the knowledge reflected back at me in his level gaze.
"Come inside and tell me you do not need what I offer you."
I didn't think I could. My resolve to bully him into giving up Muffin's whereabouts waned with every pheromone-laden breath I took. I stood inside the ring of warmth and scent that surrounded him.
"I can't compromise my investigation further, Sundown. Carlton's parents are flying in to claim the body. I need to have answers for them."
His fingers grazed mine, the gentle touch heating my blood.
"I knew you were a good man. I trust you, Fallon. Will you trust me?"
"I trust you to be nothing but trouble."
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