Dark Lover by J. R. Ward

he saw Darius's daughter.
    He shouldn't have gone inside of her home like that. He'd scared her half to death, when all he'd wanted to do was introduce himself and explain why she was going to need him soon. He'd also planned to tell her he was going after that human male who'd fucked with her.
    Yeah, he'd handled it beautifully. Smooth as gravel.
    The moment he'd come inside, she'd bolted in terror and he'd had to strip her memories and put her in a light trance to calm her down. After he'd laid her out on her bed, he'd meant to leave right away, but he hadn't been able to. He'd stood over her, measuring the blurry contrast between her black hair and her white pillowcase, breathing in her scent.
    Feeling a sexual stirring in his gut.
    Before he'd left, he'd made sure her doors and windows were locked. And then he'd looked back at her one more time. He'd thought of her father.
    Wrath focused on the ache that was already setting up shop in his thighs.
    As his blood turned the marble red. he saw his dead warrior's face and felt the tie they'd shared in life.
    He had to honor his brother's last request. He owed the male at least that for all the years they'd served the race together.
    Half-human or not, Darius's daughter was never going to walk the night unprotected again. And she wasn't going to go through her transition alone.
    God help her.
     
    Butch finished processing Billy Riddle around six A.M. The guy was offended by the class of drug dealers and thugs he'd been put into the holding cell with, so Butch was careful to make as many typographical errors as possible on his reports. And what would you know, Central Processing kept getting confused about exactly which forms needed to be filled out.
    And then the printers had gone on the fritz. All twenty-three of them.
    Still, Riddle wasn't long for the station house. His father was indeed a powerful man, a U.S. senator. So some fancy lawyer was going to get Billy sprung quicker than shit through a goose. Probably in the next hour.
    'Cause that was the criminal justice system for you. Money talked, and creeps walked.
    Not that Butch was bitter or anything.
    As he walked out to the lobby, he ran into one of their regular overnight guests. Cherry Pie had evidently just been released from the women's side. Her real name was Mary Mulcahy, and from what Butch had heard, she'd been working the streets for about two years.
    "Hey, there, Detective," she purred. Her red lipstick had pooled into the corners of her mouth, and her black eyeliner was smudged. She would have been pretty, he thought, if she put the crack pipe down and slept for about a month straight. "You going home alone?"
    "As always." He held the door open for her as they went outside.
    "Don't your left hand get tired after a while?"
    Butch laughed as they both paused and looked up at the sky.
    "So how you been, Cherry?"
    "I'm always good."
    She put a cigarette between her teeth and lit it while eyeing him.
    "You know, your palms ever get too hairy, you could call me. I'd do you for free, 'cause you sure are a handsome SOB. But don't tell Big Daddy I said so."
    She blew out a cloud of smoke and absently fingered her ragged left ear. The top half was missing.
    Man, that pimp of hers was a rabid dog.
    They started down the concrete steps.
    "You check out that program I told you about?" Butch asked as they reached the sidewalk. He was helping a friend start up a prostitute support group that would encourage women to get free of the pimps and out of the life.
    "Oh, yeah, sure. Good stuff." She flashed him a smile. "I'll see you later."
    "Take care of yourself."
    She turned away and slapped her right butt cheek with her palm. "Just think, this could be yours."
    Butch watched her sashay down the street for a little while. And then he got into an unmarked car and, on impulse, drove across town, back to the Screamer's neighborhood. He pulled up in front of McGrider's. About fifteen minutes later a woman in a tight pair of blue