by Rita Herron
If the sick, twisted bastard gave him one good reason, he’d strangle the life from him without remorse.
Waller’s phone rang and he let himself out, giving Vincent full rein. “You tried to kill Clarissa King?” Vincent snarled.
The man’s eyes were glazed, and he twitched back and forth, murmuring incoherently about the voices in his head. “She was crying, cried for the dead. She wanted to be with them. They’re her friends.”
“She didn’t want to be buried alive,” Vincent growled.
“Yes, put her out of her misery, that’s what the voice said.” Crane jammed his hands on his ears and rocked himself back and forth. “No control. No control. He made me do it. The voice told me to.”
“What voice?”
“The voice in my head. It tells me to do bad things.” He lapsed into a crazed litany about different monsters invading his mind, then jumped up and paced across the room, pounding his head with his fists.
“Make them stop. Can’t make them stop.” He turned to Vincent, a cackle erupting. “Tell me to kill. Like the blood, to watch them die. Bugs eat the flesh. You know that. Bugs eat the flesh. It rots off the bone and turns to dust.”
Vincent tossed the crime-scene photos on the table. “You killed Tracy Canton, Billie Jo Rivers, Daisy Wilson, Jamie Lackey. Cary Gimmerson.”
Crane paused long enough to stare at them. “Put them in the ground, covered them with dirt. That’s what I do.”
“Tell me how you killed them,” Vincent demanded. “How did you know their fears?”
“Pretty little girls,” Crane cried. “So pretty. So pretty to watch them die.” Another crazed laugh. “I dug their graves. Hear them scream when I cover them up, just like Clarissa does.”
Vincent drilled him with more questions, but Crane was obviously insane. He continued to rant about the voices, beating his head, then laughing hysterically, and ranting again, all lucidity gone.
Scrubbing a hand over his neck, Vincent stepped outside and met Waller in the hall. “He’s incoherent. Needs to be locked up.”
Waller nodded. “I called his doctor to come in and examine him. He’ll probably wind up in the sanitarium.”
Waller’s phone rang, and he answered it, a scowl on his face. “All right, Trina, we’ll check around.”
“What?” Vincent asked when Waller hung up.
“That was Petey LaCoy’s babysitter. Trina claims she saw Sadie Sue shaking the baby, thought she was going to kill him.” He pulled at his pants. “Said her eyes looked funny, that she was out of her mind. Sitter thinks she’s on drugs.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I need to wait here on the state psychiatrist. Do you mind driving around town and looking for Sadie Sue?”
Vincent’s chest suddenly tightened, the air barely making it past his lungs as he tried to breathe. He’d assumed all along that the killer was a man. But Sadie Sue had made a deal with the devil, and she hated Clarissa.
What if she’d gone after her now?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Vincent phoned the hospital to alert security in case Sadie Sue showed up and attacked Clarissa. Then he phoned the Bare-It-All, but she hadn’t shown up for work. Frantic, he called the babysitter.
“I’ve never seen Sadie act like that or lose her patience with the baby. Her eyes were so wild, as if she didn’t have control.” Trina’s breath rushed out. “I think she scared herself, ’cause she handed me the baby and ran out like a bat out of hell.”
He frowned. If she’d scared herself and really loved the baby, maybe she was fighting the demon’s control. “Think hard, Trina. If she was upset, where would she go?”
A long silence followed, the sound of the baby’s cooing echoing in the background. “I don’t know, maybe the river.”
“The river?”
“Yeah, at that little church where she was baptized. When she’s upset, she goes there to think.”
“Thanks, I’ll check there now.” He climbed in the SUV and spun from the parking lot, spewing gravel.
The night seemed black, inky, silent, so tense that he could hear his own breathing in the silence of the car as he raced toward the river. Headlights of an oncoming truck nearly blinded him, and he swerved, his SUV skimming the guardrail and sending sparks flying. But he managed to correct himself and stayed on the road.
Sadie Sue had enthralled him at one point—did she have the power to do so again?
He wouldn’t let her.
His tires churned on the asphalt, gears grinding as he braked and slowed around the curve, then turned onto the dirt road leading to the church.
The area looked deserted, weeds dotting the ground, ancient trees framing the wooden church. The river water glimmered beneath the faint moonlight, and he spotted Sadie Sue’s rusted Chevy parked in the empty lot.
But a quick glance indicated Sadie Sue wasn’t inside the car.
Bracing himself for her seductive powers, he screeched to a stop, threw the SUV into park, and jumped out.
He checked for his weapon, hoping he didn’t have to use it, then flexed his hands, thinking that he also held power there.
Pulse hammering, he stepped into the tepid air, caution slowing his movements as he walked toward the river. The water lapped against the rocky embankment, the sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking resounding in the silence.
But a shrill, pitiful keening rent the air.
He hesitated, skimming the darkness for the source, then realized it was Sadie Sue. Moving slowly, he inched toward the river until he spotted her head bobbing in the water. Sobs wrenched the air, her pleas for death to take her reverberating against the heavens.
“Please, God, save me, take me now so Petey will be safe.”
He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. Or maybe this was a twisted ploy to trap him.
Then lightning flashed from the heavens, the sound of thunder rumbled, and her head dipped below the water.
Vincent dropped his gun to the ground, then raced into the river to save her. Sadie Sue flailed and fought him, trying to drown herself, but he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, then carried her to the shore.
“Why didn’t you let me die?” she sobbed, beating her fists against him. “I have to die to protect Petey.”
Another boom of thunder sounded, and lightning lit around Sadie Sue in a circle.
He froze, shocked, wondering what had happened.
“I love my baby,” Sadie Sue wailed. “I begged for forgiveness.”
Vincent laid her on the grass, then looked into her eyes. They were normal, soft, loving.
She had been released of the demon. “You’re free now, Sadie Sue. You don’t owe the devil anymore.”
She hugged her arms around herself and sobbed, whispering her thanks to the heavens.
In her unselfishness, she’d found a way to break the deal she’d made.
Maybe he could find a way to defeat the demon inside himself.
Clarissa stared at the blank hospital walls, her heart aching. She’d hoped Vincent would visit, but she had to accept the truth.
He didn’t love her. Didn’t want her. Was going to leave her alone again.
She couldn’t stand in his way. He had demons to battle, a much more important destiny than being with her.
The door screeched open, and he walked in. All six feet four of muscle, brawn, and brooding darkness. He was so sexy that he literally took her breath away.
He paused in the doorway and met her gaze. She read the pain and turmoil, yet hurt still gripped her.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“A few stitches,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “But I’ll be fine.” Except for a broken heart, and the fact that she still hadn’t seen the spirits cross into the light.
“Do you think Hadley killed all those girls?”
He nodded. “It appears that way. He claims he’s heard voices ordering him to do evil things.”
“What about Sadie Sue?”
He explained about the babysitter’s phone call. “I found her at the river where she’d first been saved. She tried to drown herself.”
“Oh, my God.” Clarissa frowned. “Is she okay? What about the hold the evil had over her?”
“I guess she broke the spell when she tried to sacrifice her life to save her child.”
“That’s what a mother would do,” Clarissa said, her voice choking.
His expression contorted in pain, and she realized he must be thinking of his own mother.
She bit her lip, wanted to beg him to stay, but realized it was better he go. He didn’t love her, and she couldn’t allow him to keep hurting her.
He stared at her for a long moment, emotions warring in his eyes. Pain. Regret. Acceptance that he had to leave. That he hadn’t made any promises. He’d told her his rules.
Yet he’d broken them for her.
His eyes flickered with emotions, then he cupped her face between his hands and fused his mouth with hers. The kiss was tender, erotic, hungry, except not nearly long enough. Her heart ached, words of love lodging in her throat—he was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.
But she bit back the words as he abruptly pulled away. She looked into his eyes. The coldness had softened, but the pain was back, even more intense than before.
Then without another word, he turned and walked out the door. He didn’t look back, and she didn’t call out for him.
Instead she rolled to her side and let the tears fall.
Saying good-bye to Clarissa was the hardest damn thing Vincent had ever done.
As much as he didn’t want to care about her, he did.
But love—no, he didn’t know what love was.
If his destiny was to fight demons the rest of his life, he’d do it. But he wouldn’t bring her into the fight.
Regardless of his rationale, her trusting, loving eyes haunted Vincent as he drove back to his cabin and let himself inside.
He stripped and lay down on the bed, then fell into an exhausted but fitful sleep. His dreams were filled with fighting demons, with bloodbaths and sadistic murders that no human should see firsthand.
By dawn he woke and dressed in running clothes, then jogged into the woods. The forest seemed unusually quiet this morning, almost too quiet, but maybe the creatures inside could rest because the demon haunting the land had been caught.
A ten-mile run, then a shower, and he had breakfast in the lodge. He checked his watch. Time to get the hell out of town.
He headed outside, yet the ground rumbled slightly and a vile scent rose from the woods beyond.
Feeling uneasy but not certain why, he checked over his shoulder and scanned the road as he drove toward the highway leading out of town.
One day until the rising
Tormented cries from the dead girls drove Clarissa from her hospital bed. She struggled to get dressed. She had to leave. Talk to her grandmother. Find out if the danger was over.
And if so, why the girls couldn’t move on.
They should have crossed over by now.
The fact that they hadn’t, that she’d seen their terrorized, skeletal faces all night, warned her that the danger might not be over.
She punched the call button and asked for the nurse, then relayed that she wanted to be released.
A few minutes later, the doctor appeared and examined her. “Your vital signs are good,” the doctor said. “I’ll get the paperwork for you.”
“Thank you.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Tim Bluster poked his head in. “Hey, Clarissa, how are you feeling?”
Clarissa sighed. “All right, but I’m ready to go home. Vincent came by and explained about Hadley and Sadie Sue. He’s probably already left town.”
Tim smiled. “Yeah, no reason for him to stay now.”
Right.
The doctor rolled in with her release papers, and she hurriedly signed them.
“I thought you might need a ride home,” Tim said.
She nodded. “Thanks, that would be great.”
He jangled the keys and went to retrieve the car while the nurse wheeled her down to the exit.
She settled in his car, aware of his smile as he helped her with the seat belt. She didn’t want to give him false hope, not when her heart ached from loving Vincent. “What happened with Hadley?”
“The psychiatrist said Crane is schizophrenic and needs to be hospitalized.” Tim cursed. “He’ll probably plead insanity.”
So had the voices he’d heard been due to his mental condition, or the evil source’s possession?
Silence stretched between them as she contemplated the question.
He parked in front of her house, rushed around, and helped her from the car and up the walkway to her house.
“Thanks, Tim,” Clarissa said as she unlocked the door.
“Do you want me to come in?”
She shook her head. “Not now. I’m still pretty tired.”
Disappointment lined his face, but he nodded. He lingered for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but refrained. “All right, call me if you need anything.”
She thanked him again, then let herself inside. Wulf raced to her and she bent to hug him. “It’s you and me again, buddy.” He nuzzled her and followed her up the stairs to the attic. The curtain flapped beneath the flow of the ceiling fan, and she set the candles in a circle and lit them. Hands trembling, she knelt.
But before she could summon her grandmother, the air in the room changed and the candles flickered out. A chill of foreboding washed over her, then a massive black darkness swept through the room.
A sinister orange light blinded her eyes, and she fought to drag her eyes away. But it was too late.
The evil creature’s hands clutched her, lifting her, carrying her through time into an ominous darkness until she could no longer see anything but a mass of black souls and orange eyes.
Until she heard nothing except the voices of death beckoning her.
Vincent’s palms began to sweat as he neared the county line. He’d come here to find a killer, and he’d found him.
He’d also discovered the truth about his past, a past he’d run from years ago. One that had traumatized him as a child but shaped his destiny.
He had to be alone.
He should feel relieved to get out of town. So why did he feel as if he needed to turn back around?
A sharp pain shot through his chest, and he pressed a hand over it, gasping for a breath. The tires squealed on his SUV as he careened sideways and screeched to a stop on the embankment. Heaving for air, he unfastened his seat belt and clutched his chest as another pain ripped through him.
Clarissa’s face flashed into his mind, the past coming in rapid snippets. Her eyes, too big for her face as the kids had taunted her.
The day she’d stuck up for him when those bullies had taunted him. The day she’d sneaked up to his house, looked into the window, and seen him and his father arguing over the amulet.
The beating he’d taken to keep his father from going after her and doing God knows what.
And since he’d returned . . .
He’d been terrified of the feelings she’d evoked in him. Not just lust, but she made him want more. More of her. More of a normal life.
Someone to care about.
So he’d pushed her away, just as he had time and time again since he’d come to Eerie. Even at the pool in the sacred place when she’d confessed her love.
How could she love a man like him? A man who was part demon?
The pull to go back to her was just as intense as the pull of evil.
He straightened, sweat pouring down his body, and turned the keys, firing up the engine again.
He’d been a coward not to admit the truth, that he did care about her.
Just as he’d been a coward to run from his past.
He refused to be a coward anymore. He loved Cla-rissa and had to tell her.
His pulse pounding, he spun th
e SUV around and headed back to Eerie. Yet as he drew closer to the town, his senses jumped to alert. The heat was oppressive, the stench of death vile, the rustle of a demon’s breath swirling in the air warned him that there were still demons in Eerie.
A burning sensation seared his chest, the amulet pulsing against his heart. Alarmed, he removed the angel medallion and twisted it between his fingers, stunned at the way the bloodstone suddenly glowed against the darkness.
He had never seen it light up before, except as he’d pulled it from the fire where his mother had died, but now it was hot, burning his fingers, pulsing and glowing.
What was happening? Was it magical? Trying to tell him that Clarissa was in trouble? Or that he should have left it with her for protection?
His pulse racing, he punched information, got the number for the hospital, and called to check on Clarissa.
“Miss King was released,” the nurse said. “Deputy Bluster picked her up and drove her home.”
Bluster.
Dammit. The man wanted Clarissa. And now that Vincent had left her, he would move in.
Again the air stirred outside in the woods. A vile scent filtered through his closed windows. Was there still a demon in town? Had Crane simply been crazy and not the one the demon possessed?
If the demon wanted Vincent, if he’d killed these girls to draw Vincent back, was he still here now?
Would he give up without getting Clarissa?
Fear strangled him, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter, speeding up.
Something niggled at the back of his mind. Bluster had dated one of the vics. The women in town would trust him.
Vincent hadn’t heard back from McLaughlin on the background check on the deputy, so he punched his number while he steered the car toward Clarissa’s.
The phone rang three times before McLaughlin picked up. “It’s Valtrez. Listen, did you find out anything on that deputy I asked you to check on?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact I was getting ready to call you. It took a while, because he went by his middle name, Gordon, in Nashville.”
“He changed it when he came to Eerie?”
“Guess he didn’t want his past following him.”