Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,63

the killer would not attack elsewhere and dump the body in an alley or a basement. Or for all to see in Lafayette Square.

No, the murder would take place here.

Someone moved about, humming softly.

The killer waited. His intended victim was blissfully unaware.

The killer watched and waited, anticipating, all but salivating...

Soon, there would be a bloodbath. Because this time, when he was done with the evisceration, he would relish the horror he would leave behind. He would slash her to ribbons, cut off her lips, her breasts, flesh from her thighs...

The woman turned; Stacey couldn’t see her face.

She didn’t know who it was...

She didn’t even know if it might be herself, seeing with her eyes at last what she had seen through fragments in her mind.

Then the scream...

She didn’t know that it was coming from her. She didn’t know at all, until she was drawn back to the waking world, held firmly but gently in strong arms.

* * *

Stacey’s terror had been real; her scream, bloodcurdling.

But when she woke and looked at him, she quickly rallied. She sat up and grimaced.

“You’re okay?” he asked her. His arms were still around her.

She laughed dryly. “I don’t know! Am I okay? Most people would probably say not. That’s why it was so important to me when...when I met Adam. He made it so that I felt that I was okay, normal. Not normal but gifted rather than insane.”

“Adam has that skill,” he said.

He could let her go; she was strong once she was out of the dream.

He continued to hold her. Her dark hair was tousled and smelled sweetly and somewhat exotically of her shampoo. The skin of her bare arms was soft...

Let her go. The voice of reason whispered inside him.

But he didn’t. He could argue that they really hadn’t gotten through the nightmare yet.

“Can you remember anything more?” he asked her.

“No. I’m so frustrated. I’m there, and the killer is there... He knows I’m there, and he knows I know he’s there...but I can’t see a face, I can’t see a size, nothing but a shadow, and the shadow is like this massive echo of the darkest evil. The victim sees the killer...”

She turned to him suddenly, moving in his arms. She didn’t seem to want him to let go, to move away from her. She seemed to want to be exactly where she was. Her eyes were still glistening, her lips were soft and parted and damp.

“What does the victim see?” he said, to keep himself focused.

“The shadow, the evil, the intent. What I’m getting from the dream is this... It might be that the organs are being stolen. But there’s more to this killer. He can’t wait to cut up the victim. He’s dreaming of bathing in blood. I mean, I think it’s a man. I can’t even see that, but I believe this kind of killer is usually male.”

He nodded.

“I saw a box of some kind. A medical bag, and a box.”

“So, the box was probably some kind of ice chest for the organs. And the medical bag carried the instruments to take them.”

“But I can’t see the killer!”

“You’ve brought us closer than anyone else,” he assured her. “You’ll see more. Think back. From what you’ve told me about your dreams, you’ll get a little further and a little further. If by some chance you don’t, you’ll still have done more than anyone else,” he said, touching her cheek, lifting her face to his.

She looked at him for a long moment.

To his surprise, she suddenly put her hand to his face and drew him to her, kissing him. Not a peck that meant thank you.

A wet kiss, filled with tongue and lips warm, generous, moving.

He’d be less than human if he didn’t respond.

And he was definitely human. He leaned them both back on the bed and returned the kiss, deeply, passionately, feeling the warmth—and more—burst within him.

She seemed to realize, suddenly, that once again, he was wearing only a towel. At that point, she couldn’t help but notice.

He grinned, thinking he needed to explain.

But she smiled when the kiss broke, looking up at him with her dazzling eyes. “I seem to have a tendency to interrupt your showers.”

“That’s okay. I was clean enough.”

A worried look touched her features.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... I mean, we’re working. Jackson—”

“Jackson already thinks that we’re sleeping together.”

“Oh?”

“I think that Jackson made the best decision for his leads on this case because of the nature of the case and our abilities, but I