Deadly Obsession Part 27

He would not have been able to deny her had he wanted to. Taking off his bo ots, he lay down on the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms, kiss ing the top of her head.

" Shhh ," he said. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll never leave you if that's wh at you want."

Obviously satisfied with his confession, Laurie placed her arm across his ches t and fell back to sleep.

'Twinkle, twinkle little star'...the time to die is not too far.

The soul chuckles as he folds the pristine paper and stuffs it into a long whi te envelope, licking the seal, all the while not losing the menacing smile upo n his thin face. He peels a self-stick postage stamp from a page of ten and pl aces it methodically in the corner, making sure it sits at the perfect angle and its sides are but a quarter of an inch from the envelope's.

The time to send has come. The soul leaves the haven of his home and heads to the blue metal box standing on the corner as though it had been placed t here solely for his purpose.

Life is but short. No one knows, aside from the Father above, as to when the time to go draws near. One could live today and be as healthy as a babe, th en walk in front of a speeding train tomorrow and lose the life so prized.

The soul merely nudges along the end of time, for the wages of sin is death.

And if G.o.d decides not to take Laurie today or tomorrow, then he will be fo rced to oblige.

Good versus evil.

For the Lord knows the soul's thoughts as surely as the Prince of Darkness. A nd if He be a merciful G.o.d at all, then He would spare the beauty of the evil soon to befall her and take her life before the soul puts his own maniacal p lan into action.

Be it, if He is gracious.

For once set into motion, the soul cannot turn back. Like triggering a nuclea r weapon but having no way to disarm it, the soul, too, cannot change the cou rse of his evil desires.

To have Laurie Michaels and her traitorous soul.

Her blood is sure to be far sweeter than any he has ever tasted, for none is as notable as she. His stomach pangs from hunger and achieving his goal, just as his erection stands majestically, waiting patiently to be appeased.

"Soon, my dear sweetness, soon. All will come to an end, and we will be no m ore," he whispers to the silent night.

The soul pulls back the blue lid to the box, kisses the missive, then drops t he envelope in, replacing the cover. Hands stuffed deep within his pockets, d ark gaze tilted to the ground, the soul walks away with nary a notice.

Chapter 25.

Cole's body jerked to full consciousness as he left behind the remnants of h is dream. Cindy's bloated appearance had haunted him as thoroughly as his wi fe's battered face over the course of the night.

A glance around the darkened room reminded him of his surroundings, not to mention the warm body curled against his side. He had slept the night in La urie's bed and had no idea as to the time. Finding an amber glow at the sid e of the bed quickly told him only a few hours had pa.s.sed; it was not quite five o'clock in the morning. Shortly, he would be forced to leave Laurie t o her grief and head to the station.

Time stands still for no one.

He ran a soothing hand down her back and kissed her forehead, inhaling the fr esh soapy scent of her. The caress stirred her as her soft inky-black lashes fluttered open. Laurie gazed up at Cole, her face still somber from the night before, the soft flesh around her eyes slightly puffy.

"You stayed," she whispered as she stretched beside him.

All too aware of her every curve, a morning erection reminded Cole of his options. G.o.d, he was a miserable wretch. The woman beside him would not li kely forget the events of the night before, and the last thing she needed was what the appendage between his legs could offer.

Cole ran a hand down his face, noting his slightly whiskered jaw. He neede d a shave and shower before going to the station. Now would be as good a t ime as any to say his good-byes and duck out the door while he still had h is dignity in tact. He would not take advantage of a woman who needed comf orting and not what went on between the sheets. Maybe years ago, but not a t this time in his life.

"Yeah," he grumbled, more from the hanging-on effects of drowsiness than crankiness. "I told you I would."

"I'm glad," she said, running a finger over the contours of his white tee, not helping his present condition. He shifted some of his weight away from her. "I woke up a few times over the course of the night, but somehow knowi ng you were beside me, comforted me. I was able to go back to sleep."

"I'm glad," he replied, giving her forehead a peck.

Her hands slipped up his chest to his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. Ev en in the dark, Cole could see desire resting there. Leaving her bed was goi ng to be more difficult than he antic.i.p.ated. He never should have spent the night in it, no matter how much she pleaded. After all, he was a man.

"I've never wanted someone the way I want you."

Cole grasped her hands within his, pulling them from his chest. The impact of what she confessed hit him like a sledgehammer to his gut.

"You don't want to do this, Laurie. You're reacting out of pain. You need com forting not..." His words trailed off, not knowing the right thing to say or really wanting to.

Laurie lay her head on his chest, her arm stretched out across it. "I'm sorry . I was blessed with being bold. Too bold, my father says. But if I am not wh at you want..."

Cole was thankful for the protection of the sheet or Laurie would see the i naccuracy of her statement. He warred with the truth. Dare he tell her? Or forever remain alone? His heart ached with the need to be loved, though he had pushed away everyone in his past who had tried. Could he ever forgive himself enough to allow the one thing sorely missing from his life for so ma ny years?

Even before Jeanne had died, she had managed to harden his view on relatio nships. He had loved her with his whole heart and she had ripped it from h is chest, leaving him bleeding even to this day. Now here was a woman who could heal the wounds and make him forget he even had a past. He would be a fool to turn her away. Yet, still....

Cole slid to the side of the bed, turning his back on her as he rose. He stuf fed the bottom of his tee into the waistband of his jeans, knowing if he turn ed to look at her, all would be lost. Better to save face and walk away now, than to give into the desire raging within his gut and have her resent him wh en pa.s.sion no longer entered into it.

He could feel her gaze, knew without the benefit of sight, she watched him.

The effect touched him as thoroughly as if her hands had. d.a.m.n, but he wan ted her.

"I really should be going. I hope..." His words trailed off as one of her han ds ran down the soft material of his tee. He tilted his head toward the ceili ng and expelled his air. G.o.d, help him; he not only wanted her-he loved her, making his yearning for her all the more insufferable.

"I just wanted to thank you for staying." Her voice was small, timid, but the harmony of it stood his every nerve on end.

Desire unfurled in his gut as his erection became almost unbearable with the sweet pleasure-pain of it. If he turned around, there would be no going bac k for him and he would take whatever the aftermath of their lovemaking would bring. If he left....

Cole chose to turn around and take his chances. True love only came once, and now he knew that Jeanne hadn't been his. He took Laurie's small hand i n his and placed it atop his abdomen. His muscles trembled beneath her tou ch.

"Can't you feel what you do to me?" he asked, his voice shaking with need.

Laurie looked at him in confusion. Surely, she would never understand why h e had held her at bay for the last few weeks-tried desperately to avoid, wa nting to allow no one near.

"Then why won't you take what I offer?" she asked.

He grasped her face between his hands and held her gaze. "Because I don't want you to regret what you've done...we've done. My G.o.d, you don't even know me-what I can be like."

"I know everything I need to. I don't care what happened in your past. All I care about is now and how much I need you. Don't walk away from me agai n, Cole."

"You need to be comforted, Laurie. But not like this." His hand did a sweep of the bed.

"And you comforted me last night. But this morning..." Her hands moved to th e waistband of his jeans and all words were lost to him as she slipped the b.u.t.ton from the hole.

"Dear G.o.d," he groaned as she slid the zipper past his erection straining agai nst the material.

Laurie reached her hand inside and encompa.s.sed him. His gaze held fast wit h hers as his blood raced through him, pounding in his temples. His breath ing weakened; his mouth went dry at a sudden loss for words.

"Tell me you don't feel what I do and I'll call you a liar," she said as she re leased her hold on him, then shoved up the material of his shirt.

Cole wrenched it from his head and pushed her to the mattress, coming down on top of her. His mouth found hers, pulling the soft flesh of her bottom l ip between his.

His fingers groped clumsily as he tried to unfasten the tie of her thick bulky robe. Her hands joined his and soon they had rid her of the c.u.mbersome materi al concealing her. He slid the flimsy satin of her nightshirt over her head, l eaving her in a pair of silk thigh-cut panties.

Cole groaned at the sight before him. A flat stomach, b.r.e.a.s.t.s so young tha t gravity had yet to weigh them down...her legs stretched out so long before him, the only thing he could think of was how well they wrapped around hi s waist.

Not able to stand the confines of his jeans and boxers a moment longer, Cole pushed them from his hips and down his thighs as she used the pads of her f eet to help push them to the floor.

Her arms looped around his neck, holding him flush as she returned his kiss with enthusiasm.

Laurie pressed into the pillow as his mouth left hers and sought out one breas t, suckling it like a starving child, while one of his hands caressed the othe r.

She had wanted this, him, for sometime. The night they had had s.e.x in her f oyer could not compare. Her body soared like an eagle over the mountains, f ree for the first time in her life. For a few short moments of time, Cole K incaid made her forget.

His hand left her breast and inched down her abdomen and beneath the silk o f her panties.

"G.o.d, please, Cole."

He kissed a path up her chest as his hand ripped the thin material from her.

"You need not ask me twice, sweetheart," he whispered as he positioned him self between her spread thighs.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and allowed him to carry her away. Away from the pains of the world, away from the loneliness of her life. And for a moment, they were the only two people who existed in the world.

A few short hours had pa.s.sed since leaving Laurie's bed and Cole had never felt so complete. Since his wife's death, and even before if he were totall y honest with himself, he had not felt whole, as though something were miss ing. But he refused to examine it.

With a smile on his face, Cole walked down the hall to the chief's office.

Upon his arrival, Cole found a note requesting his immediate attention. Joh n McCray wished Cole's presence in his office. p.r.o.nto!

Cole straightened his tie, smoothed back his hair, and opened the door. John and a man in a black suit he had yet to meet, greeted him.

"Cole, you're here," John said, his tone edgy, putting a damper on Cole's good mood. What on earth had he walked into? "I'd like you to meet someone .".

John looked at him in apology, then turned to the tall slim man wearing a th in black tie and white shirt. Cole knew without the benefit of introduction that this man was as FBI as J. Edgar Hoover. Son of a b.i.t.c.h.

"Cole, this here is James Mathers with the Federal Bureau." Cole reached ou t and shook his hand. "Jim, this here is my lieutenant in charge of the det ective bureau who is personally handling the case, Cole Kincaid."

"Nice to meet you," Cole grumbled out of necessity rather than politeness. A ll of his newly found contentedness left him like a deflating blimp.

"Likewise," the man returned.

"Please have a seat," John instructed as he took his own behind the desk, fold ing his hands atop it.

Cole steepled his fingers and glared at his boss over the tops. Just what t he h.e.l.l he needed. A suit dissecting his every move and questioning his ent ire case, what he had of one anyway. John had invited in the FBI on his cas e and the Bureau always seemed more than eager to show the local boys how i ncompetent they were.

"I've been bringing Jim up to date on your case so far, Cole," John said, the n took a sip of coffee. "He has a few questions for you."

"Ask away," Cole stated, none too friendly.

The agent made a show of looking at some notes, but Cole would bet he had already memorized every aspect of the case.

"These women all died of the same style wounds?" he asked. "No question a s to whether they were made by the same individual?"

"No question," Cole replied shortly, resenting the way the enquiry implied h is ignorance in knowing the difference.

"John mentioned you received two quotes from this perp. Any idea of the au thor?" "Bram Stoker."

Jim smiled, snickering as he shook his head. "We got us a real live Dracula, for G.o.d's sake."

"He's drinking their blood-there's no doubt about that by the marks left ar ound the neck wound, but I highly doubt he thinks he's immortal."

"And why's that? Are you now the expert on vampires?" Jim asked, shifting in his chair so he could look fully at Cole, his dark eyes narrowing and the s heen on his hair goop shining in the fluorescent light.

"Have you ever seen the movie Bram Stoker's Dracula? "

"No."

"Then I suggest you do-Dracula dies in the end. If this son of a b.i.t.c.h is mod eling himself after Dracula, then I think he, too, knows his own mortality. I t's a matter of time, but we'll catch him."

The agent let out a humph and turned back to the chief. "All that from a piece of fiction."

Cole resented Jim from the moment he had walked into the office and it was all he could do to keep from walking out. "You tell me, Jim. What do you think?"

"I studied the crime scenes' photos. This man is somewhat organized; operat es in the same fashion. The first two victims, high-risk, were found in fai rly good condition, aside, of course, from the gaping neck wound. No blood at the drop site, but I would say it's a safe bet, the original crime scene was left a mess. The victim's were covered by a blanket-a gesture that sug gests remorse. But then along comes the third victim, also high-risk. She i s murdered and left for us to find. Her blood is everywhere. A change in MO . Not to mention we now have a quote.

"Maybe he intended to go back and clean up the mess, but I doubt it. The fo urth victim, low-risk, another change in MO, is dumped in her daddy's yard with a note attached to her chest. I think we have a nocturnal individual w ho is somewhat able to cope in society."

"What the h.e.l.l makes you say that? The son of a b.i.t.c.h drinks blood, for cryi ng out loud," Cole nearly roared.

"In all four cases, there was no sign of struggle. The first three were prost itutes and may have been hired by him. But the fourth had to have gone with h im willingly."