Into a Dangerous Mind (3 page)

“Hmmmm, my subconscious just keeps getting better and better.”
 
She closed her eyes and snuggled against his chest, enjoying the feeling of safety after the terror of the last few hours.
 
“Since I’m having a mental breakdown with my brain tumor, I might as well enjoy it.”
 
A loud sigh escaped as her lips curved into what she was afraid was a sappy smile.

As she sank into the soft sheets of her bed, the bed dipped beside her when he sat next to her.
 
His hand left a trail of heat as he brushed his fingers gently across her forehead before he leaned over her.
 
“I know you aren’t feeling too well.
 
We can talk about that after you get some sleep.
 
Right now, we need to turn your mind off so he can’t get back in.
 
Do you have anything to help you sleep?”

Cassidy tried to make sense of his words, but her mind remained stubbornly fuzzy.
 
“My head hurts—on the inside.
 
Isn’t that strange?”
 
She forced open her heavy eyelids, and looked up into his concerned expression.

“I like this dream.”
 
On an impulse she only acted on in dreams, she fisted her hands in his hair, dragging his mouth to hers.
 
She swallowed his gasp of shock and enjoyed the way his body jerked against hers.
 
It seemed she’d caught her dream man by surprise.

Hot and intoxicating, he tasted just like he looked—dangerous and spicy.
 
Immediately, small explosions shuddered through her already overtaxed system, and her breath came in labored gasps.
 
Blood simmered and bubbled just under her skin as he devoured her mouth in turn.

His hands moved from caressing her face to fisting in her hair.
 
A primitive need built between them that sizzled in the air as their bodies melted against each other.
 
A groan came from deep inside her throat, and he jerked back into reality as if surfacing from a very deep lake.
 
But when she thought he would pull back, he dragged her tight against him, dipping his tongue inside her mouth as if she were a delicacy he wanted to savor fully.

Cassidy threaded her fingers through his thick dark hair and met his tongue thrust for thrust.
 
Heat coiled inside her stomach and flowed downward until a slow full ache of arousal began—an ache more intense than ever before.

He slowed their kiss and pulled back, looking reluctant to end it.
 
He gently untangled his fingers from her hair and smoothed his hand over her cheek.

She looked up into eyes that were a molten pool of deep gold, hazy around the edges, and tried to pull him down to her again.
 
But he moved quicker, gently grabbing her wrists before she could ensnare him.

He shook his head as if to clear it, then took a deep breath and let the air out slowly.
 
“Your head will be a little sore for a few days still.”
 
He took a few more deep even breaths.
 
“You just lie here and relax.
 
I’ll go and find something to help you sleep.”

Cassidy closed her eyes again and let herself float.
 
No real man ever made her feel like this—sexy and exotic.
 
Like a siren luring men to their destruction.
 
As she waited for her system to stop buzzing, she could acknowledge, if only to herself, there might actually be a real live woman hidden under the tomboy of the past.

A wave of nausea began low in her stomach followed by a series of cold shivers.

“You should’ve told me you were freezing.”
 
The man walked back in the room carrying some Tylenol PM and a glass of water.
 
“And don’t worry—you won’t throw up, but the trauma will make you nauseous.
 
Your body isn’t sure how to react to something like this.”

He helped Cassidy into a sitting position and supported her while she dutifully swallowed the proffered medicine.

“I can feel you inside my head.”
 
Her voice sounded groggy and slightly slurred.
 
“But it just feels safe and warm, like you belong there.”
 
She noted the quick expression of shock that marred his almost perfect features before she closed her eyes and lay back against the bed.

“Shhhh.”
 
He tucked the fluffy down comforter around her.
 
“Everything will be clearer in the morning.”

Cassidy began to drift into sleep, but the thought of being alone and vulnerable scared her enough to stir.
 
“Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered.
 
“Even if you aren’t real, I don’t want to be alone.”

She heard the words softly inside her head while she drifted into blackness.

Too early in the morning for normal visitors, the insistent buzz of his doorbell pulled Zach’s attention from the newspaper.
 
Taking his Glock 9mm off the table next to him, he walked toward the door and looked through the peephole.
 
He smiled at the image of a tall rangy man dressed in navy work shorts and a button-down shirt with an embroidered company logo on the pocket.
 
A well-worn ball cap sporting the same logo sat low over unruly red hair.

“Just a minute,” he called through the door.
 
He placed the Glock into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back and then pulled open the front door.

“Carl, from Cox Cable, here for your install.”

Zach stepped back so the man could enter, and then closed the door behind him.
 
After turning the locks, he studied the man.
 
“Can I put HBO and high-speed internet on my expense account?”

“Don’t push your luck.”
 
Agent Carl Dixon grinned and slapped Zach on the back.

“So, Dix—you’re looking pretty sweet in that cable guy outfit.”

“Kiss my ass, Hatcher.”
 
A scowl creased the freckles peppering Dix’s forehead.
 
“Are you going to offer me some coffee and give me your report, or do I have to pull rank?”

He couldn’t stop the automatic smile as he headed toward the kitchen, motioning his friend and boss to follow.
 
He poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Dix.
 
“I don’t know how you guys got the moving van here so fast, but the house is full of boxes, and looks exactly like I just moved in.
 
My cover is tight.”

“Good.”
 
Dix took a seat at the kitchen table and gestured for Zach to join him.
 
“So what do you have?”
 
He took a sip of coffee, and a reverent sigh escaped his lips.
 
“I haven’t had to do more than read your reports and sign your op approvals since you were a rookie.”

“Cassidy James is under surveillance—I’ve got a team over there now posing as landscapers.
 
She’s still asleep.
 
I’ll interview her when she wakes up.”

.

He smiled as he remembered how right she felt inside his head during the impromptu kiss and how difficult it had been to pull away.

Dix nodded once.
 
“Okay, now that I know your witness is secure, start at the beginning and bring me up to speed.”
 
He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him.
 
“Like I said, I usually don’t have to get down to the intimate details of your cases.”

across the table to Dix.
 
“We’re starting to build up a body count here.
 
Four women found dead in their homes—including Corrine Sanders.”

Dix flinched, but then nodded for Zach to continue.
 
“The coroner could find no cause of death, not a mark on any of them.
 
He said their bodies just stopped functioning, but no physical cause.
 
No hits on the tox screens, no internal bleeding, and no evidence to support sexual assault or even recent sexual activity.”

Zach took a sip of his coffee, letting the nutty flavor roll over his tongue.
 
“So, right up until they died, they were four healthy women.
 
No witnesses—except you.
 
But per procedure, we interviewed everyone, no matter how remotely associated with the victims.
 
Dead end.”

Dix stared into his coffee cup and then looked up at Zach with haunted eyes.
 
“A friend’s sister is dead.
 
I was her bodyguard and I couldn’t protect her.”
 
Dix took off his hat and wrung it in both hands.
 
“I never thought I’d feel so helpless.
 
It goes against the grain of everything I took this job for.
 
She just started clutching her head and screaming about someone attacking her.
 
I had to hold her and watch her die.”

Zach let the silence flow over the room and then said softly, “Dix, there was nothing you could do.
 
You need to stop reliving it.
 
I’ll get him.”

His friend pushed back from the chair and began to pace, slapping his hat against his thigh.
 
“Damn it, Zack, you don’t know how it feels.
 
That asshole made it personal—he used me and Corrine just so he would get credit for his previous kills.
 
And now, he’s slipped through our fingers!”

Anger, frustration and hate flowed over Dix’s face until he finally wrestled his emotions under control.
 
He slumped into the chair and looked across the table at Zach.
 
“Okay, finish telling me what the hell happened last night.
 
How did you know who to target with the op?”

“Because I’m the best damned profiler you’ve got.”

“All your modesty aside.”
 
Dix pulled his cap firmly over his unruly hair.
 
“None of the evidence you’ve given me tells me why you suspected the guy from last night to be the Reaper.
 
When you tell me to set up an op, I know from experience you’ve got the guy, and every single time you’ve been right.
 
But I usually don’t have to drag the evidence out of you.
 
So what gives?”