Heart of the Witch (12 page)

"Merchandise?" Ravyn snorted. "Want to stock up on Lavender Dream candles, do you?"

Nick gave her what he meant to be a charming grin. He had done a background check and knew the sisters had lost their father at a young age. It might be heartless, but he planned to play on their vulnerability in that area. This was for a good cause, so he was justified. Catching the Tin Man had to take precedence over the emotions of these women.

"Actually, I was hoping I could barter for some of your jewelry. For my daughter. You see, I'm divorced, and her mother has custody. She won't let me see my little girl, and every penny I make goes to attorney fees to fight for her. She's twelve and I haven't seen her in two years. I'm supposed to visit her soon, and I wanted to have a gift. Something really special. Like the jewelry you have here. I just know she'd love it."

Ravyn's eyes had lost a bit of their hardness, but she didn't comment. Sorina practically melted on the floor in front of Nick.

"Oh, you poor dear! How awful. Of course we can use your help." The blonde walked over and placed a hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry. I know it must be very difficult for you."

Nick nodded. It was easy to let his eyes mist over for the imaginary daughter. All he had to do was remember the real child his dead wife had wanted, and how he hadn't taken the time to give her one.

He stole a look at Ravyn, but she wasn't looking at him. Instead, her venomous gaze was locked on her sister. Sorina either didn't notice or pretended not to.

"I really appreciate this." Nick addressed Ravyn as if she'd been the one to agree to his proposal.

Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. She shot her sister one more glare before disappearing into the back.

Nick went to the register to pay for his candle. Sorina gave him an impish grin. Her face alight with mischief, she was nearly as beautiful as her sister.

"I'm Sorina, by the way." She stuck her hand out, and he took it.

"Nick Lassiter. Nice to meet you. And thanks. I really appreciate this opportunity."

"My pleasure." Sorina's expression turned pensive. "My sister Ravyn is a little… antisocial at times. I get the feeling you kind of like her."

Nick gave a shy smile. "Are you trying to do a little matchmaking?"

Sorina shrugged. "She's so serious all the time. She seems so lonely, but she doesn't even know it. I just thought, you know… you seem interested in her. I mean, come on. Lavender Dream? Was that the first one you grabbed or something?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Bet it impressed her."

Sorina laughed, a musical tinkling that echoed through the store. Nick wondered if Ravyn ever laughed like that. Probably not.

"You know, I'll be getting married soon. Ravyn could use help around here while I'm on my honeymoon. Who knows how well you two might hit it off?"

"Yeah?" Nick shrugged, knowing he wouldn't be around long enough for that to happen. He needed to find out what she knew about the killer and get the hell away. He didn't want any new entanglements. He couldn't afford them. "How do you know I'm not some psycho who might hurt her?"

Sorina stared at the curtain through which her sister had disappeared. "Believe me, you can't do any more than has been done already." Her gaze returned to him. "Besides, I can trust you. I
feel
it."

Yeah, right. Good instincts
, Nick thought.
You sure can trust me. I've known you for only five minutes, and I've already deceived you
. "You must be an exceptional judge of character."

"I am," the blonde agreed. "But let me warn you, my sister is even more so. If you're not on the level with her… Well… let's just say you'll wish you had been."

Where had
that
come from? Ravyn's sister had gone from practically welcoming him to the family to threatening his health and happiness. He shook his head. "Don't worry. And thanks again. For the candle… and for everything."

"You're welcome. Why don't you come back Wednesday, and I'll show you what needs to be done?"

"Sounds great," Nick said.

She retrieved a blank sheet of paper from somewhere behind the counter and slid it in front of him. "Can you jot down some information for me to have on file? Name, address, phone number, emergency contact—things like that. You never know what might happen. I'd like to have it, just in case."

"Sure." Nick scribbled the info and handed the paper back to Sorina.

As he left with his candle, he wondered why his step felt a little lighter, and why he was experiencing a sense of eagerness. He also wondered why he was cursing the fact that Wednesday was still two days away.

Gingerly, painfully, Jay stepped out of the shower. The water was the worst part. He had to shower with his back to the spray the entire time to keep it from stinging his injuries. He was healing, coming along, but the pain…

He stood naked in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway. Sucking in a breath, he let his gaze drop to his groin. God. A film of sweat broke out across his body, despite his still being damp from the shower. He swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit. His penis was still there, but it was a shriveled red and black protuberance. Blisters had formed and burst, and now they oozed a milky yellow pus. The surrounding area, where his testicles had once been, looked just as bad, a mass of enflamed eruptions and char-broiled flesh.

The blisters made him think of that night: the agony, the stench. Funny, how the odor of burning flesh was so pleasurable until it was your own.

Marshall had been correct about Jay's prognosis. Jay could urinate, but sex… Well, even though he wasn't fully healed, he knew that would never happen again. The bitch had made sure of that.

Sexually, he'd been with only a few women other than the Chosen Ones, and they didn't really count. Not as sexual encounters. They were more. So much more. But sex
was
a big part of those encounters, he had to admit. The arousal. The satisfaction… He'd never ejaculated. No way had he been willing to take a chance on leaving his semen behind. But the acts had been satisfying nonetheless—maybe even more so, since he'd deprived himself of the ultimate release. But what about now? Was that pleasure gone forever? Had she taken that away from him?

She had. He was almost certain of it. Damn her! He slapped a hand against his thigh, and trembles shot through his body. She'd pay. Somehow, someday, she'd pay. She'd ruined his life.

Yet in spite of what she'd done, he couldn't stop wanting her. She wasn't only beautiful. There was something more. There was a facet of her attractiveness that called to him, some quality he couldn't quite define.

He tried to get an erection thinking about her breasts, about those tempting lips, that soft skin…

No good. He couldn't get hard. Indeed, she was beautiful, but she was also terrifying. Too terrifying.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to think of the others, the ones
before
Ravyn Skyler. Yes, these were also beautiful women. And unlike the bitch, they'd done everything right. The fear? He loved the fear. They'd begged him, promised they would do whatever he wanted. And when he'd toyed with them long enough, taken their last breaths from them… Oh, yes, it had been heavenly.

Both during and after, he'd always had a hard-on that was almost painful. Unfortunately, he'd had to wait until he returned home to take care of it. The waiting was difficult, and the swelling faded, but after he relived the scenes in his mind the erection always came back. And when he came, it was the most amazing thing—an orgasm that seemed to go on forever.

A tingle worked its way through Jay's belly and into his chest. His breathing became restricted. He wanted so badly to… No. Nothing. He couldn't get an erection. Not even a hint of one. Tears stung his eyes.

Big
boys don't cry
.

This time, the voice didn't make him flinch. His mother had been with him constantly since the night with Ravyn. As much as he'd always feared her, he now almost felt comforted by her presence. He knew she was happy about what had happened to him. She probably wished she'd done it herself.

"Go to hell, Mother."

Don't you ever speak to me like that
! she shrieked in reply.
You
know
what I'll do, you
smart-ass
little cocksucker
.

In spite of his earlier bravado, Jay cringed. Yes, he knew very well what she would do. "I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered.

She didn't respond.

Good, he needed the peace, needed to think. What would he do about the woman? How could he make her pay, when he was afraid to go near her? Yet how could he live with himself if he didn't take revenge? And he had to find out how the hell she'd caused this, how the hell she'd maimed him for life. She'd been the only one to see his face and live. She alone could ID him and bring him down. But then, the composite in the newspaper looked nothing like him. The beard had disguised him, and there was no way anyone would connect him to that sketch.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the recliner. Gently lowering himself into it, he flinched at the resultant explosion of pain. Picking up the bottle from the end table, he swallowed two of the pills and washed them down with a glass of water.

As he waited for the morphine to work, he wondered how his deformity would affect the future. His fantasy had always been to have his way with one of the women and take her to the brink of death, and then at the last moment save her. He'd ejaculate right there, at the moment of his greatest pleasure. What a power rush that would be! He'd never done it, because he knew it might mean getting caught, which was something he couldn't take, couldn't survive. To be at the mercy of people who wanted to punish him, to lock him up, to hurt him? But he'd always thought that maybe, someday, when he was ready to give everything up, this would be his final act.

Part of the thrill of the fantasy was the arousal he knew he'd feel. And then he wouldn't deprive himself of release. But now it was all ruined. By her.

If he was discovered, what the hell. He'd plead insanity—and he was pretty damned sure the plea would stick. He had to be insane to have done the shit he'd done. And if by some chance he
didn't
get caught? Well, maybe he'd try again. He knew what he needed now, knew what would make him feel better. As soon as he was able, he needed to get out of the house. He needed a hunt. It wouldn't be the same as it used to be, but it would be fun. Gratifying. He could find some joy in the chase, after all.

He absentmindedly fingered the scar on his chest as a thought occurred to him that almost made up for the injuries he'd suffered: he didn't have to give up his dream. Even though he wouldn't get the ultimate satisfaction he'd once imagined, he could fulfill all but the orgasm. And this way might be even better. Because when he made the fantasy a reality, the woman would be Ravyn Skyler.