Dark Obsession (12 page)

“Who found the bodies?” she asked suddenly.

“There was an anonymous call to the station. When the officers arrived on the scene, the victims were already dead.”

“Did they find anything? Any clues? A motive?” she asked desperately.

“He doesn’t need a motive,” Slade said roughly. “He kills for pleasure. For sport.”

Erin’s hands were trembling as she looked up at him. “My God, you talk as if you know him.”

“I do,” Slade said coldly. “I know him as well as I know myself.”

“Then why can’t you find him?” she cried. “Why
can’t you stop him?” She was bordering on hysteria, but she couldn’t help it. It was terrifying to think that such evil really existed, that her nightmares could really come true. “You’ve got to stop him!”

She was clutching his arm, clinging to his hand. His fingers, warm, strong, comforting, closed around hers. “Take it easy,” he said softly.

Mr. Rubinoff hurried up to the table. “Everything okay?” His worried gaze took in Erin’s and Slade’s linked hands. Dimly Erin saw what he must have seen—the contrast and the disparity. Nick’s hands were huge and strong and hideously scarred. Erin’s hands were pale and smooth and flawless. But together they formed a bond. An unbreakable connection. He tightened his hold on her, as if he was reading her thoughts, and for a moment Erin thought she’d glimpsed something in his expression, a flash of emotion behind those dark glasses. Something she hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

Erin’s legs were shaking when she stood to comply.

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
lade dropped her off at her apartment, making her promise once again not to open her door to anyone. Erin watched him go with an almost overwhelming feeling of abandonment. He was on duty. She knew he couldn’t stay and baby-sit her all night, but the apartment seemed even colder and gloomier after he left. It was hard not to let her imagination run away with her. Hard not to keep going over and over their conversation in her mind.

“Two bodies were found in an alley down by the river a few nights ago.

“There were marks on both their necks. Puncture wounds.”

Don’t, Erin thought. Don’t think about what that could mean. Don’t think about the nightmares you’ve had and the stories you’ve written. Don’t start thinking they could be true.

But what if they were true? What if a vampire, just like the one in
Demon Lover,
stalked in the darkness out there, was even now searching for his next prey? What if he’d already found his next victim? What if it was her?

The questions echoed off the walls and pounded inside her head. Erin sat on the couch, too scared to
even move. Once she and Nick had left the deli, she’d pulled herself together enough to put up a brave front for his benefit, but now that he was gone, the terror closed in on her.

Two more bodies had been found. Dear God, two more people had been murdered. And there were puncture wounds in their necks. Just like Megan. Just like the characters in her book.

We’ve been waiting for you, Erin.

Go back to L.A., she commanded herself. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not even to yourself.

Firmly in the grip of panic, Erin jumped up and ran into the bedroom. She grabbed her suitcase and hauled it to the bed, then began flinging her clothes toward it. She
was
going, she thought, almost numbly. She was going and nothing would stop her, but in almost the same instant, her gaze landed on the recorder she’d placed on the dresser earlier that day. Her frantic movements ceased as she stared at the machine.

Erin wasn’t sure why it drew her attention, but something compelled her to cross the room and stare down at the recorder, and then suddenly she realized why she felt so uneasy. The recorder was voice activated, and she could see that the tape had been run forward as if it had clicked on in her absence. That could only mean one thing.

Someone had been in the apartment while she was out.

Don’t jump to conclusions, she warned herself. Maybe she’d just forgotten to rewind it the last time she’d used it. But Erin was pretty certain that that wasn’t the case because she’d checked it out to make sure it was still working after her encounter with Nick in the hallway the day of Megan’s funeral. It had been in her purse when she’d hit him. She almost always carried it with her so that any sudden inspiration wouldn’t be lost.

Erin took a deep breath. She rewound the tape, then pushed the Play button. The tape started running. At first she couldn’t distinguish anything, just a lot of static and what sounded like children singing in the background. She turned up the volume, trying to make out the words, but the sounds were too garbled.

Then, through the static and the chanting came another sound, another voice. Erin gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream as she heard her sister whisper, “Don’t leave me, sissy. Not again.” It was the voice of a child. The voice of her sister years ago when she had begged Erin to stay with her, to protect her, to save her from the monsters.

And then the recorder clicked off. Erin stood rooted to the spot, her hand clamped to her mouth as her whole body began to shake violently. She remained that way for a long, agonizing moment before she
became aware of a new sensation. A new terror. Someone—or something—was watching her.

“Megan?” Erin called out into the silence of the bedroom. At the sound of her voice, the air around her seemed to swirl, to become energized. Erin’s hair tingled at the roots as if charged with static electricity. She could feel the current moving through her body, but still she couldn’t move. The room grew cold, misty, tomblike. An unnatural fog drifted through the crack at the bottom of the window.

“I’m so cold,” a voice whispered through the mist. “Let me in, Erin.”

“Megan!” Tears streamed down Erin’s face. Her skin was cold and wet, her soul chilled with a premonition she could hardly name. “Dear God, is that you?”

“It’s so cold out here. Open the window and let me come in.”

Slowly Erin turned her gaze to the second-story window. A face mocked her in the glass. Eyes glowed in the dark as the shadow wavered, seemed to float on nothing but air. Erin screamed and tried to back away, tried to flee that cold, damp room, but something—those eyes—held her in thrall. They gazed, unblinking, straight into her soul.

Beside her the tape recorder turned itself on; the tape ran backward then stopped. The soft click seemed to jolt Erin out of her trance. She stared out
the window, seeing only the reflection of her own terrified face.

* * *

“This is Slade.”

Erin drew a shaky breath. “Nick…”

“Erin? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure…maybe nothing. I thought I saw something outside my window after you left. You said to call—”

“I’ll be right there. Make sure all the windows and doors are bolted.”

“But I’m not even sure—”

“Give me ten minutes,” he said, and then the phone went dead.

Erin stared at the receiver, unwilling to sever the connection on her end. He’d sounded so calm, so rational. What would he say when he got here and she told him that—

Dear God.
Erin sat down weakly on the couch, clenching her hands tightly into fists to try to stop the trembling. It
couldn’t
have been Megan’s voice. Her sister was dead and buried. She couldn’t have come back. It wasn’t possible. Things like that only happened in Erin’s books. The monsters only lived in her dreams. They weren’t real. They couldn’t be real. And Megan couldn’t call to her from the grave.

Don’t leave me, sissy. Not again.

The pitiful little voice haunted Erin’s thoughts. Was she losing her mind? Had she dwelled in the
nightmares of her past, lived in the pages of her horror books for so long that she could no longer distinguish between fantasy and reality? Was her guilt pushing her farther and farther into the darkness?

She told herself to get up and check the doors and windows, just as Slade had ordered her to do, but Erin couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to admit how truly terrified she was. Didn’t want to give in to that fear, because if she did, if she allowed herself to believe—

The doorbell sounded and Erin’s heart jumped. She got up, took a quick look out the window, then went to open the door.

The moment she drew back the door, Slade swore violently. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, opening your door without even asking who’s on the other side? I could have been the murderer, for all you knew.”

Erin took one look at his grim countenance, his dark facade, and silently agreed. He
could
have been the murderer. “I saw your car parked outside,” she said.

He didn’t bother to respond, but strode into the living room. “What happened?”

Erin closed the door and followed him inside. “It was probably nothing. My imagination…”

When her words trailed away, Slade scowled at her. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Erin discovered that her legs were still shaking, and
she sat down. His tone suddenly made her want to cry, and she turned her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Someone activated my recorder while I was out. I heard…voices…” She faltered, then whispered, “I heard Megan’s voice, Nick.”

“On the tape recorder?”

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

“In the bedroom,” Erin said. “But there’s no use trying to play it back. It’s been erased.”

He stared down at her. “Why did you do that?”

“
I
didn’t do it. It…erased all by itself.” She pushed her hair from her face with a trembling hand. Before he could respond, she lifted her tortured eyes to his and said, “I know that’s impossible. I know I couldn’t have seen…what I thought I saw.”

“Exactly what did you see?”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “I saw a face in my bedroom window. There aren’t any fire escapes outside that window. No balconies, either. But I saw her.
I saw Megan!
”

“That’s impossible,” Slade said. “You couldn’t have. I took care—” He broke off, turned away.

“What do you mean?” Erin said. “What did you start to say?” When he turned around to face her, Erin thought she had never seen an expression so grim, a mouth so harsh. She started to tremble at his look, but she wouldn’t let herself look away, wouldn’t
allow herself to back down. She had to know the truth. All of it. “Tell me!” she cried.

“Megan is dead,” he said heavily. “She can’t come back, Erin. Believe me. Trust me.”

“How can I trust you?” Erin whispered. “I know you’re keeping something from me. I know you aren’t telling me the complete truth.”

“Listen to me,” Slade commanded as he sat down beside her. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You need to get out of here. You need to get as far away from this place as fast as you possibly can. There’s no reason for you to stay.”

“There’s every reason to stay,” Erin said desperately, wrenching herself away from him. She got up and stood looking down at him. “I can’t leave now. I can’t leave Megan.”

“She’s dead, for God’s sake! You
can’t
help her now.”

“But I can,” Erin insisted. “Don’t you see? I can help her rest in peace. That’s what she wants. That’s what she needs—”

Slade swore viciously as he jumped to his feet, grabbing her arms as if to shake some sense into her. “Damn it, Erin, nothing’s worth putting yourself in this much danger. You have no idea what you’re dealing with, what could happen to you. You have no earthly idea….”

“Then tell me,” she begged. “Tell me the truth.”

His scarred hands fell away from her arms. “Just go. Get the hell away from this city. From me.”

“You talk as if you’re the murderer,” Erin whispered in a raw voice. “You talk as if I should be scared of
you.
” Slade spun and walked toward the door without uttering a word. Erin gazed at his back for only a split second before she caught up with him. She clutched his arm. “
Should
I be scared of you? Answer me, damn you.”

He stared down at her, and even though Erin still clung to his arm, he suddenly seemed a million miles away from her. “Yes,” he said, and Erin thought she had never heard a word sound so bleak, so chilling.

“You’re not the murderer,” she said in a deceptively calm voice.

“You think I’m not capable of killing?”

He was. Instinctively Erin knew that without a doubt. A shiver raced through her, a dark and dangerous thrill. “I think you’re probably capable of just about anything,” she acknowledged.

“That’s reason enough to run, isn’t it?”

“I’m through running,” Erin said, her voice trembling yet angry.

“Then God help you.” He lifted a battered hand and brushed the knuckles down her face. It was a soft touch, excruciatingly fleeting. Erin caught his hand when he would have moved away, and her lips skimmed his scarred flesh.

Slade jerked his hand back. “Don’t,” he said, his
voice cold. “Don’t play with fire unless you want to get burned.”

He gazed down at her, and the power of the moment frightened Erin. She took one step away from him, but his hand shot out and cupped the back of her neck. He pulled her to him, slowly, deliberately, his shuttered eyes holding her in bondage. She couldn’t move away if her life—or her soul—depended on it. His mouth looked savage and predatory as he moved his lips downward, to hers.

“Too late,” he whispered, when she made a desperate attempt to escape. “Too late now to run.”

Slade’s hand tangled in her hair, holding her as he moved in to claim his victory. At first, his lips merely grazed hers with a light, teasing motion, but a bolt of lightning shot through Erin’s veins, heating her blood, quickening her pulse. Her heart thundered against her breast.

She was going to swoon, Erin thought, amazed that she even knew such an old-fashioned word, more astonished still that she was going to do it. To have him so close, to have him touching her, kissing her as though she belonged to him. Only him—

Erin hadn’t been aware of moving, but suddenly she felt the door behind her back. She was pressed against the wood, and Slade’s hands were planted on either side of her head, imprisoning her. His mouth found hers again, and this time the action was neither gentle nor teasing. His tongue stroked hers, coaxing
a response she couldn’t deny him. He pressed his body against hers, and Erin could feel how hot and hard and ready he was for her. Her senses ignited as she felt her body moving against his.