Kay Hooper - Blood Dreams

"Did you?"

" I knew. Paris knew too. That's why she gave me her abilities when she could."

"He came after you instead of her."

"Maybe he tried to get to Paris first and found the guardian. Or maybe he intended to go after me all along. But I think I surprised him, maybe even hurt him. I don't think he realized that I could learn so fast to channel energy. Neither did I, really."

She looked at the monster that had taken so much from her, from so many people, and even through her numb sense of loss, an uneasiness stirred. "I don't think…"

"What?" Marc asked.

"I'm too tired to reach out, really, but what I feel from this monster is… it's sick and evil, but… I just don't think-"

"Christ, look over there," Roxanne said, nodding toward the wall where photo collections detailed the stalking and torturing of his victims. "I don't think we'll have any problem convincing a jury this is our killer. Assuming it even gets to trial. Want my take, I say he picked this place because the universe told him it was where he belonged. In an asylum."

Dani avoided looking at the trophies, but she could feel herself frowning. "I wonder if this monster was ever human."

"Dani?" Marc's arm tightened around her.

She realized he didn't have to ask the question for her to know what it was. "Out there in the hallway… what I felt during that attack. It was never from this room. It was never in this room, Marc."

"What do you mean?"

"This is the killer, I know that." Even exhausted and aching, she knew that, felt that. "There are so many dark and twisted things inside him it's like worms. Maggots." She closed her eyes briefly, trying to shut off the unwelcome information. "Audrey…"

"His mother." Hollis, freed from her stainless-steel prison and cautiously testing her bruises, said, "His victims got an earful about her by the end. She doted on him. In a very unnatural way."

Dani shook her head. "He was born twisted; she just made him worse."

"Yeah. Well, before they started putting the fear of hell into him a while ago, one of his victims told me we might want to take a look into the room closest to this one. She seemed to think we were in for a surprise."

Even before they began exploring, they had a baffling mystery on their hands, because when Marc touched the killer he was able to confirm what Dani had already sensed.

"He's not psychic."

"Maybe burned out?" Roxanne suggested. "That last attack against Dani was a fierce one. Maybe too much for him?"

Still surprisingly calm, Hollis said, "If you're talking about whatever energy blew the door in, I doubt he had anything to do with it. He was fully occupied, believe me, for at least ten or fifteen minutes before you guys got here."

"I don't think this… man… was ever psychic," Marc said, half consciously brushing his hands together after touching the killer. "I've been able to pick up latent psychic ability, but from him I get nothing at all."

They looked at one another, and Hollis said, "I say we look for whatever Becky thought would surprise us."

They found it about ten minutes later while exploring the rooms nearest his torture chamber. The now seemingly catatonic monster remained cuffed and under the watchful eyes and ready weapons of Gabriel and Roxanne.

It was a neat and scrupulously clean room, as small and unadorned as a monk's cell. Just a cot, a metal chair and desk, and an unfinished pine wardrobe, where his clothing was folded precisely.

"He kept a scrapbook of his own life," Bishop said, finding it in one of the desk drawers. He used his pen to turn several pages back. "Born… Carl Brewster, ordinarily enough. Not much about his early life here, just his birth certificate and what look like some school records. Enough to help us know where to look for more information about him. Pages of doodles the psychologists are going to have a field day with, including the word Prophecy written over and over again."

"Just that word?" Dani asked.

"Looks like. Then the newspaper clippings start. No way to tell just from this what the ultimate trigger was, but it looks like we were right about the Boston murders being his first. There are no clippings or information about earlier murders here."

"When did his mother die?" Dani asked.

Bishop continued to page through the scrapbook, finally stopping about halfway through. "Yeah, that could be it. Her obituary is here. She died last spring, after a long illness."

"Domineering she might have been," Hollis said, "but she was probably his leash and held him hack as long as she was alive. Once she was gone, there was no one to stop him."

Marc said, "What sickens me is that he'll probably live out his life in a prison cell more comfortable than this one, with psychologists, cops, and profilers lining up to try to figure out what makes him tick."

"It might help catch the next one," Bishop reminded him.

"I know, I know. Still."

Before he could say anything else, Jordan appeared in the doorway, holding a manila envelope in his gloved hand. "Guys, look at this. And please tell me it doesn't mean what I think it means." He came into the room, crossed to the bed, and emptied the envelope.

Photographs.

"Of me," Hollis said.

"Yeah." Jordan looked at her steadily. "He apparently had a little workroom across the hall where he liked to cut up the pictures. I found this lying on a table in there, all ready for him. Notice anything unusual?"

But Dani saw it first. "They're dated. All taken with a digital camera. And… some are dated more than a year ago."

"The bastard hunted me for over a year?" Hollis was too bewildered to be angry about it. For now, at least.

"I don't think so." Jordan showed them the envelope. "This was mailed to him at a post office box here in Venture. Mailed from Washington, D.C. Postmarked two days ago."

"He was here two days ago," Marc said slowly.

"Yeah. There are also several empty envelopes in there. D.C. and New York postmarks. Different dates, but all during the past month."

They looked at one another, several things and possibilities falling into place.

"A trained monster," Bishop said. "Or maybe just… a tool. A puppet. But not the puppetmaster."

"That's why it felt different," Dani said slowly. "Why I didn't feel the same energy in his-his torture chamber that I felt out in the hallway. Because he wasn't responsible for the attack. Marc was right, the killer was never psychic. His wasn't the voice in my head."

"He was bait too," Bishop said slowly.

Dani nodded. "The bait to draw us. If you want to trap the monster hunters, you have to provide a monster. Find one. Uncage one. Or create one. Every time we hit a wall in the investigation, another little fact or detail or possible lead would be dangled in front of us. To keep us asking questions, to keep us off balance. To keep us moving, always toward the trap."

"He didn't catch anything in his trap," Jordan pointed out. "Did he?"

"He didn't get Paris's ability," Dani said. "But this attack… it was different. It was stronger, more focused. He may have gained something, even if it wasn't a new ability. The experience alone could have given him something of value to him."

"You said you thought you hurt him," Marc reminded her.

"It felt like I did. A sense of pain, of frustration. But… it wasn't a crippling injury. There was still the echo of a very strong, distinct presence, a personality-especially right at the end, when I discharged all that energy. He knew he'd lost… this round."

Jordan said. "Shit. This round?"

"It isn't over," Marc said.

BOSTON

Senator Abe LeMott turned from the window and looked at the man in his visitor's chair. "So that's it?"