“You’re sick,” he spat.
“Maybe.” The madman’s brow arched. “But how else could I still be here? And you know, it got easier with each kill.” He pointed a finger at River and grinned. “But you? You made it fun.”
He glared. “What the hell do you mean?”
“All your schemes to catch me. All your plans, the hope sparkling in your eyes each time you were sure you’d stop the madness and capture the Valentine Killer. And then the disappointment, the devastation that consumed you when you realized he wasn’t there. You’d missed again.” A smile warped Jamie’s face, and he leaned forward. “Except I was there, wasn’t I? Every time you thought you’d failed, the Valentine Killer was right there next to you, helping work the scene.”
The bastard looked at Vicki, pursed his lips, and clucked his tongue. “For such a brilliant detective, he sure dropped the ball. Took my death for him to finally put all the pieces together.”
Panic gripped River’s throat and squeezed. Shit, what if he figures out what she’s drawing before she finishes? He jerked, forced his chair to scrape across the floor. “And what about you, asshole? You’re not so brilliant yourself.”
Jamie’s gaze lasered on him. Fire burned in those dark eyes, though his mannerisms remained unimpressed. “What are you talking about?”
“You were my partner, Kent. My partner. Why the hell would I ever think you were the killer?” He tilted his head toward Vicki, aimed his words at her but kept his eyes locked with the bastard across from him. “I mean, who gives a shit if he had to die for his reign of terror to end? It ended. And it happened because he screwed up. Muffed the booby trap that was supposed to give him a chance to escape, but instead caused his tunnel to freedom to collapse. Got pounded by falling rock to boot. Bled out. Kinda sad if you think about it.”
The killer’s nostrils flared. “Yeah. I screwed up.” His tightly controlled tone filled the room. “But I sure had fun slicing and dicing sweet Mindy Carter before everything went to shit. And as I lay there on the floor, the world fading around me, I started to doubt it all.” He shook his head and snorted. “I mean, was some demon really gonna save my ass? But then a bright light filled the cavern, and a voice whispered in my ear. ‘Continue your work for me.’”
“Right.” River glanced at Vicki. She’d managed another line in her drawing.
“Then I died…everything went black. I heard whispers all around me. When my vision cleared, I saw SWAT and police everywhere. The coroner and some kid lifting my body. And I knew. I knew this was it.” He reached out to touch something only he could see. “I stood behind him—that kid—and…pushed myself inside. He passed out. Shock, I guess. But it gave me time to hide in Jamie’s subconscious. To wait, watch.”
“Sweet bedtime story.” River sneered. “Your mom tell you that one when you were a kid?”
“It’s not a story.” Pointing a finger at him, he grinned. “You should’ve seen your face when Captain Suarez accused you of playing a part in all the killings.” He shifted his attention to Vicki. “They thought there might be a bomb beneath me. So they tied a rope to me and flipped my body. Of course, there was no bomb. I wanted them to know who I was.” He tilted his head. “You okay, Riv?”
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, but every inch of his skin prickled. The hairs on his neck stood on end. How had he known they’d turned Kent’s body? Jamie hadn’t arrived with the coroner at that point.
A chill oozed down his spine, twisting his stomach. There was no way the bastard could know, unless…. God. No, it can’t be true. The knot in his stomach tightened, warning him otherwise. Vicki’s next symbol.
“Lost my athame.” Jamie glanced at Vicki. “That’s a fancy word for ceremonial knife, in case you didn’t know,” he mock whispered to her then faced River again. “Captain Suarez found it beneath my body and bagged it.” He shook his head. “It’d been a gift from my Latina girl. Shame. I’d used it in so many murders and sacrifices. I really miss it. I mean, you can’t perform an offering to a demon without an athame and expect to be taken seriously.” He reached to the sheath at his waist and yanked out his large hunting knife. “So I created my own. And look, right here on the end of the hilt I carved Thurisaz’s symbol, dedicating all the blood it spills to him. Nice, huh?”
A scratching sound came from upstairs. River craned his neck. Had backup arrived at last?
“Aw, Moochie must be hungry,” Jamie crooned.
“Moochie?” River started as a yip floated down from above. “You brought a dog with you?”
“Wasn’t mine. Belonged to the old biddy across the hall.” He grinned, tapped the flat of the knife blade to his chin. “What a complicated little web I’ve woven. See, I needed to move around, hunt my next sacrifice without Jamie becoming suspicious. I didn’t want my host freaking out over a drop of blood or a piece of clothing, at least not until I could take over his body completely. So, I created a roommate, took on the name—”
“Brent.” Vicki’s wide eyes focused on the killer.
“Ah, yes. The pub.” He tilted his head. “There was a glow about you and your dark-haired friend. I had to put you on the list.”
“But the dog,” River interjected. She hadn’t finished the drawing, and he needed to buy her more time. “Why the hell did you snatch a dog?”
Jamie stared at him for a moment, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Even psychopathic murderers get lonely sometimes.”
He clutched the arms of his chair. By God, the bastard wanted the damned dog as a companion. How sick is that?
Jamie shoved the knife back into the sheath. He looked at each of them in turn then sighed. “Well, it’s getting late. I should prepare the altar for another sacrifice. Thurisaz will be pleased.”
“You’re going to sacrifice us both?” River growled.
“No.” He jerked his thumb toward Vicki. “Just her. Thurisaz has a taste for females. Can’t say as I blame him. But you? Sorry, Riv. I’ll just have to kill you.” He strode toward the dining room doorway. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll feed your heart to Moochie so your death won’t be a total waste.”
River jerked against the ropes holding him, and although the chair creaked, he couldn’t break free. Fear and anger raged through him. His eyes cut toward his Glock still resting on the counter. The need to put a bullet in Jamie Bennett—or Kent Rowton or whoever the hell the monster was—ran true in every inch of his being.
Vicki had almost finished the drawing. She had the circle with a pentagram in the middle. The only part remaining of the Valentine Killer’s symbol was the pointed capital D in the center. She looked up at him.
“I didn’t want to just…give up.” She shook her head. “I thought….”
“Mixing up the order of the symbols.” He smiled, his heart aching. God, he wanted to hold her, kiss her lips. “Good thinking.”
“I’ve never tried this before. I don’t know what will happen.” Her slim shoulders rose, fell. “If anything.”
“At this point, I don’t think it’ll hurt.”
“It could speed things up.” Her focus shifted toward the dining room doorway. “He could come out here and kill us that much sooner.”
“He’s going to kill us anyway.” He glanced down. She rested her foot at the bottom of the symbol, waiting to finish it. “I say do it.”
She bit her lower lip and blinked back tears. The sight ripped at his heart. She raised her feet, lowered them to the center of the drawing, and dragged down a straight line.
She lifted her chin. “You don’t have to say anything.” A soft smile quivered on her lips. “But I need you to know I’ve fallen in love with you.”
With a quick jerk of her feet, she completed the pointed capital D. The Valentine Killer’s symbol lay drawn in blood on the floor between them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It’s done. Vicki peered down at the sign she’d painted. The killer’s sign. The symbol she’d seen in so many visions,
tying them all to a deadly fate.
For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted control over her visions, and damn if she was just going to sit around and wait for the murderer to jam his huge knife into her chest. The symbol she’d drawn was her chance to change things, to throw destiny off course.
Hopefully.
She lifted her eyes to find River staring at the floor, his lips parted as though he might speak at any moment. He appeared stunned. Was that because of the diagram or because she’d used the L word?
“Huh.” River tugged at the ropes holding him to the chair, his focus flitting to the dining doorway then back to her. “I’m still tied. You?”
She jerked, but didn’t get any farther than before. “Nothing.”
A heavy thump came from the room behind her.
His gaze jumped to the bank of windows at the rear of the house. “Sounds like the bastard’s about done cleaning up.”
“Oh God.” Her throat tightened with fear. She’d tried to alter their fates, but it’d changed nothing. They were still going to die at the hands of a maniac. “I’m sorry, River.”
“It’s all right.” His eyes softened, and a small smile came to his mouth. “We had to try.”
She trembled. “So much for influencing the outcome.”
He stared at her with a fierce intensity that drove straight into her soul. The need to feel him again, to have his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, all but took her breath away. At least she’d told him how she felt.
Kent strode into the room, fresh smears of blood defacing the spiral on his shirt. The huge knife remained lodged safe in the sheath at his waist.
How many women has he killed with it? Cut open?
She forced the images from her mind, concentrating instead on how to get the blade from him. If she couldn’t change the outcome using the symbols, then she’d do it the old-fashioned way with a knife rammed into the killer’s gut.
“How you doing, Riv?” Kent bent over, tugged the ropes holding the man she loved then straightened. “Stilled trussed up pretty good. Now, I have to take your girlfriend into the other room. There’s nothing you can do about it, so just sit tight. I’ll get back to you.”
River shook his head, sneered. “You’re one sick sonovabitch.”
“Whatever.” The killer stepped back, shifted his gaze from River to Vicki and back to River again. “From the look in her eyes, I see you two have already said your goodbyes. Did she tell you she loved you, Riv?” With a snicker, he moved behind her, leaned down, and put his mouth next to her ear. “Bet he didn’t return the sentiment. Didn’t say shit, did he? He’s not real good at seeing the obvious.”
The swift sound of metal against leather met her ears, a sharp tug of her bonds, and then the ropes holding her loosened. Vicki shifted forward, tried to slip from his grasp. But Kent was faster. With a thrust of his hand into her hair, he jerked her head back, yanking her up short.
“Let her go, you bastard,” River yelled.
Through tear-blurred eyes, she caught sight of the man she’d professed her feelings to. Rage burned in his eyes. The cords of his neck stood out as he struggled to get free. When their gazes met, he didn’t have to say the words. His love for her was clear.
Kent jerked her head to the side, breaking her eye contact with River. She flew from the chair and slammed to the floor. Her elbow cracked against the parquet, taking the brunt of the impact. Sharp pain shot up her arm, and she cried out.
As he dragged her across the hardwood, she reached up, trying to grab hold of his hand to relieve the ache radiating over her scalp, only managing to slap at his taut fingers. She struggled to get to her feet, but he pulled and jerked, keeping her off balance, rendering her struggles useless.
From across the room, a feral growl erupted from River. “Let her go. Look at me, you bastard.” His chair scraped over the hardwood as he fought against his bonds. “Don’t you touch her.”
“It’s a sacrifice, River.” He hauled her upward until her feet kicked in the air. “What did you think would happen?”
“River!” Arms flailing as she swung above the floor, she reached out to him.
“Oh my God.” Astonishment filled his wide eyes.
Vicki thrust her legs out, trying to ram her heel into Kent’s shins. Her pendulum movement worked against her, and each kick missed. Shock squeezed her lungs. How can he lift me into the air like this?
Without warning, Kent lowered his arm. Her feet thumped onto the floor then slipped over the blood-slick parquet and out from under her. If the killer’s grip hadn’t remained twined in her hair, she would’ve cracked her head.
“Vicki!” River’s mouth twisted with rage, his eyes reflecting the unbridled fear gobbling her up from the inside out.
“Ri—” She crashed into the dining room doorway. Air exploded from her lungs, bright spots blurred her vision. River’s anguished cries rang in her ears.
Candles. Everywhere. So many. Yellow flames danced above the wax cylinders. The acrid, metallic scent of death mixed with the wispy smoke curling from the burning wicks.
A mass of red tangled hair dragged her unwilling gaze to the mangled, bloody body lying crumpled on the far side of the room. Oh my God. He’s cut her open. Taken her heart. Fear slithered into her, icy tendrils constricting her lungs, writhing inside her stomach, slipping through her veins. I’m next. She fought against the terror threatening to consume her.
Grasping the table leg, she skated over the wet floor, swinging herself around to ram her thighs into the killer’s shin. A crack sounded. She hoped she’d dislocated his knee.
His grip on her loosened, and she bolted for freedom. On all fours, Vicki scrambled through the doorway, caught sight of River’s beautiful blue eyes. God, the optimism that shone in them tore at her heart.
But then his focus shifted above her head.
“No!” He rocked his chair back and forth, anguish marring his features. “Don’t give up, Vicki. Don’t make it easy for him.”
“Riv—”
Fingers clamped vice-like around her ankles and yanked. Her hands shot out from beneath her, and her chest smacked to the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs. Vicki fought him, pumped her legs in an attempt to dislodge the madman. But the devil himself couldn’t have held her tighter.
She clung to the doorjamb, fighting for all she was worth. But the demon tugged with relentless force. Her fingernails bent back as she clawed the wooden encasement.
“No!” She flipped onto her back, kicking and scratching.
Kent’s lips thinned, his brow drew down, and pure evil filled his eyes. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet and slammed her onto the table. Her head smacked against the wood surface, an explosion of sparks flashing through her mind. Her eyes drifted closed.
No. It can’t end like this. She forced her eyelids open. The room spun in a dazzling array of colors.
Sounds of River struggling emanated from the living room. Glass shattered. “Vicki, don’t give up!”
Something rough looped over each of her feet, securing them in place. Her arms were raised above her head, her hands lashed down, so she couldn’t move. Like a ghost, Kent’s face appeared above her, and she squinted, bringing him into focus. He stared down at her, the madness in his eyes sending spikes of fear into her tummy. He eased closer, his lips brushing over her cheek.
“So strong. So beautiful.” His tongue slid along the shell of her ear and down to the lobe, his breath chillingly hot on her neck. “Thurisaz will love you.”
Straightening, he combed his fingers through her hair with the familiarity of a lover. Traced her eyebrows and jaw line. Grazed her bottom lip with his thumb. With unexpected swiftness, he swept down and crushed his mouth against hers, his lips hard, unyielding.
Gagging, she turned her head away. Her stomach clenched, twisted, threatened to heave.
“I could just eat you up.” He gave her a lascivious smirk. “But my god demands all. No sharin
g.”
An enormous crash from the living room shook the house. Kent’s head jerked toward the sound. With predatory arrogance, he strode to the doorway, his narrowed eyes scanning the room.
The sounds of River’s efforts to break free had ceased, replaced with the incessant yapping of the dog upstairs. Kent whistled, and the barking stopped. As he peered into the living room, a satisfied grin came to his mouth.
Vicki’s chest squeezed.
“Seems my partner’s determination to come to your rescue got the best of him.”
“What happened to him?” Desperate to reach the man she loved, she jerked the ropes restraining her.
“Somehow, he managed to knock the bookcase over on himself.” Turning to her, he raked his gaze down her body. “Hmm. I wish he could’ve heard your last breaths as you screamed his name. But now that he’s unconscious, he’ll miss it. Pity.”
Kent moved next to her again, skimming his hand up her thigh, over her hip, and across her stomach. When his fingertips trailed between her breasts, Vicki bucked, her back arching off the table.
He chuckled. “Oh, how I love my work.”
His fingers drifted lower, dipping beneath the bottom edge of her sweater. Quivering beneath his touch, she stared at his face, all sweaty and warped with demented pleasure. My vision might’ve shown the signs leading to my death, but hell if I’m gonna go out like some petrified lamb. Anger overrode fear. For once, I’m going to be in control, damn it.
“Hey, you sicko bastard.” She fought to raise her head, but pain seared through her wrenched neck to the base of her skull. At least her words didn’t sound slurred. “You getting your rocks off with a helpless female?”
He chuckled. “It’s called anticipation.”
“So that’s what you assholes call it nowadays? Either way, seems you can’t get a hard-on unless the girl’s tied up.” Vicki forced her lips to curve into a smile. “How about you loosen these ropes, even things up a bit?”
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