Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (29 page)

He kissed her.

And the years fell away.  She remembered what it was like to get lost in him. To feel the touch of his mouth on hers and to ignite. She’d always wanted him so wildly, so fiercely, and the years hadn’t changed that desire. If anything, now she seemed to want him more.

But he pulled back. “When you’re clear, wait for me in front of the convention center. I’ll find you there.”

Then he was gone. For an instant, Ivy just stood there.

She didn’t smell smoke. Didn’t hear the crackle of any flames. All she heard was the shriek of the alarm.

The door he’d pointed out waited just a few feet away. But was she really supposed to just take that exit and run? What about Cameron? What about her brother? What about Shelly? They were trapped in the crowd. 

I can’t leave them.

She wouldn’t do it.

***

Chaos. It was all such beautiful, lovely chaos.  Women were screaming. Drunk men were fighting each other as they tried to rush out of the building.

There was no fire. There was no danger. Well, none except for the danger that the fools were causing to each other.

He’d set off the alarm. He’d shut down the lights. He’d done it all—in just mere moments.

“Ivy!”  Cameron was yelling her name. Cameron and another man—Hugh—were searching for her.

He’d seen Ivy go into the main ballroom. She hadn’t come out. Not yet.

Cameron and Hugh would never get to her, not in that mad crush. At least, they wouldn’t get to her—not if they kept trying to fight through the crowd.
They need to go another way.

A way that he knew…

He opened a door, one that had been carefully hidden behind a black curtain. The door took him into a narrow corridor. A service area. The corridor would lead him right to the main ballroom. Right to Ivy.

But he had to hurry. The beautiful chaos would only last so long…

I want to see her. I want to touch her.

He closed the door behind him. The corridor was pitch black, but he had a light. He was prepared.

Always.

He took a few steps. And then he heard someone running toward him. Someone running too fast.  His light hit on the man just as the guy barreled toward him.

Chapter Three

She didn’t run for the exit that Bennett had showed her. Ivy just couldn’t leave her brother and her friends. Instead, she raced for the service corridor. She knew exactly where that corridor was—after all, she’d come to enough parties at that convention center to more than know her way around the place. Besides, her friend Sarah was a caterer who often had her staff working in the service corridor, and Ivy had seen them in action plenty of times. Other people might not know about that secret hallway, but Ivy was just grateful right then that she knew of its location.

A long, black curtain hid the entrance to the service corridor. She shoved the curtain aside and yanked open the door. Darkness waited inside, but Ivy knew that narrow hallway would take her past the thick throng and allow her to exit near the escalators.

Then I’ll find Hugh. I’ll get him and Cameron and Shelly and we’ll all get out.

She ran forward, hating that dark, and she pulled out her phone. She had a flashlight app, too, and she swiped her phone over the screen, turning it on so that she could see—

A man in a tux. A man in a white Mardi Gras mask.

Her breath left her lungs in a startled
whoosh.
She stepped back.

Her light still hit his mask. 

“Hello…” His voice was deep, seeming to surround her.

She shook her head. In the middle of a fire—in the middle of mad panic—you didn’t just stop to tell someone “Hello”.

“You saw me,” he continued in that deep voice.

Ivy backed up a step.
Oh, hell, oh, hell…

“And I saw you.” 

It’s the killer!
He had been watching her when she’d been on the float, screaming to get that poor woman help.

She forced her body to relax. If he was about to attack her, he’d find that she wasn’t the prey he’d thought.  He was bigger than she was, stronger, but that didn’t mean he was a better fighter.

“I also saw your brother,” he told her. “Such a shame…”

Icy tendrils of fear wrapped around her heart.
He knows about my brother?
“What did you do?” 

He turned away from her and began walking back down the hallway.  Her light hit the back of his head. He had dark hair, hair that contrasted sharply with the white elastic of his mask’s straps.

“What did you do?” Ivy yelled. She raced after him. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.  When she did, he hit her, hard, slamming her against the wall. Her phone fell from her fingers and crashed into the floor.

His fingers locked around her throat. She felt the slide of gloved fingers tightening around her neck.

Oh, hell, no.

She drove her knee into his groin, hitting him as hard as she could.  He swore and his hold eased.
That’s right.
Then Ivy whacked him with her elbow, slamming it into his stomach. When he bowled over, she zipped around him.  She took a few frantic steps down that hallway—

And then she tripped. Ivy fell over something—something warm and soft.

Not something…someone.

“No,” Ivy whispered even as the masked man’s words rang in her head. “
Such a shame…”

Her hands touched something sticky and wet and she shuddered. 
Blood.
She knew exactly what blood felt like in the dark. 

She was touching a man’s body. A man who was wearing a tux and who’d been attacked.

Laughter floated around her.  “You’re going to be far more fun that I realized.”

The hell she was. “This isn’t a game!”  She backed away from the body. She needed to get away and get help.
Don’t be Hugh on the floor. Please, not Hugh.
“The cops are here! They’re going to get you—”

“I know they’re here.” He didn’t sound worried. “I saw them and you, sweet Ivy.”

He knows my name.

“I can be good to you,” he said.

She was on her feet now. Her hands pressed to the wall. Did he brush by her? It was pitch black in there, but she thought she’d felt him.  He’d been heading toward the body.

So I need to move the other way.
She needed to head back out the way she’d come.  

If she couldn’t see, then neither could he. Maybe he thought she was down there next to the body. She inched away.  She’d get out.  She’d go back the way she came and escape. Everything would be okay. 

I touched blood…that means he has a knife. Or some kind of weapon.

“I’m going to learn your secrets,” he told her. “Your desires.  I’m going to give you everything that you ever wanted.”

You’ll give me nothing.
She didn’t say those words. Talking would give away her location. She wasn’t going to do that.  His voice told her that he wasn’t close to her. She just needed to keep going. She had to move silently.

“I can be good to you,” the killer said. “Or, Ivy, my dear…I can be very, very bad…”

All you can be is crazy.
She crept down the corridor. Surely she was close to the ballroom again. She would get away, find the cops—find Bennett—and then this guy would be done.

Only…she stilled. He’d stopped talking, so she didn’t know where he was. 
He could be right behind me now.

There was no time to waste. She ran for the ballroom. Forget being quiet—she raced forward.

And the lights flashed on. So bright and glaring after the darkness. She blinked, trying to adjust to that glare, and then she spun around, frantically searching behind her.

He wasn’t close to her. He was on the other side of that corridor, near the exit that led to the escalators.

He shoved open the door—

“No!” Ivy screamed.

But he was gone.

And he’d left her…left her with…

Her gaze fell to the floor of that corridor.

A white mask lay near the fallen man’s hand.

He left me with a dead man.

***

The convention center’s alarm had finally stopped shrieking.  The lights were back on and the people in the crowd weren’t crushing each other any longer. Bennett saw the men and women blearily staring at each other. They moved slowly now, as if trying to figure out what in the hell was happening.

I’m trying to figure out that one, too.

His men had fanned out into the crowd. There were injured people there—people who’d been trampled near the door. People who’d fallen and would need medical assistance.

Masks were on the floor.  Broken Mardi Gras necklaces littered the area.

“It must have been some prank, Detective,” one of his team members told him, a detective named Drew Trout. “The building supervisor said someone got into the control room and messed with all the switches there.”

And caused panic. 

Fear.

A man in a white mask?

He glanced back toward the ballroom.  Ivy should be clear by now.  The fear eating at him should’ve eased, but it hadn’t.

He needed to see her. 

More emergency personnel flooded into the area.  Security guards were on scene. And EMTs were already moving into the crowd. He knew that—at events like this one—emergency personnel were always close so that they could respond in an instant.

Like they’re doing right now.

He turned and headed back to the ballroom. Chairs were overturned in there, tables tipped onto their sides. Food had been stomped into the flooring.

The ballroom was nearly empty, though. 

No sign of Ivy. He headed over to the stage, then he went to that back door. A door that should have given Ivy an easy way out. He grabbed for the handle.

Locked.

His heart slammed into his chest.  He yanked harder on that handle.

Locked.

Maybe Ivy had locked the door when she fled. Maybe it had closed and sealed up behind her or—

Maybe she never got out that door because it was locked the whole damn time.

He spun around. “Ivy!” Her name came from him as a roar. “Ivy!”

***

He’s not dead, not yet.

She could see the faint rise and fall of the man’s chest—not just any man, but a guy she knew.

Councilman Laxton Crenshaw was on the floor of that corridor, bleeding out.  Ivy rushed back to his side, and she fell to her knees as she tried to inspect his wounds. He’d been stabbed—multiple times—and the blood was covering his white cummerbund. She put her hands on his chest, trying to stop the blood flow from the worst wound.

His hand flew out and locked around her wrist. “You—”

“He’s gone,” Ivy told him.  “Just stay calm, okay?” He was bleeding so much.  Gushing out. “It’s going to be all right.” Her words could be a total lie, but she didn’t care. Weren’t you supposed to reassure the victim in situations like this one? 

His fingers fell away.

She tried to staunch the blood flow, but the wounds were so deep.

“Help!” Ivy screamed. She was afraid to leave him—if she didn’t keep applying pressure, would he bleed out right there? “Help!” And if she didn’t go…was he just going to die anyway?

***

Ivy wasn’t in the ballroom. He didn’t see her in the back hall. Bennett didn’t see—

“Ivy!” Hugh DuLane bellowed, running around frantically near the escalators. “Ivy, where are you?”

Bennett’s gaze jerked toward the other man. Hugh was a lot of things—not all of them good—but the man had always been fiercely protective of Ivy.

“She’s not in the ballroom,” Bennett shouted back. “We need to check outside and see if—”

A black curtain parted a few feet away and he saw the door that had been hidden behind it, a door that had just been opened by…Ivy?

She stood there, wearing her gorgeous green dress, and he saw the blood on her. Blood on her stomach. On her hands. Even on her leg.

For an instant, the whole world seemed to stop for Bennett.

“Help,” Ivy said, her voice sounding hoarse.

The bastard found her. He hurt her.

Bennett was already bounding toward her.

“
Help!”
Ivy screamed.

Heads whipped toward her, but she was already running back through that doorway and racing into the corridor there. He rushed after her, yelling her name, but she didn’t stop.

Then he saw why.

Ivy fell to her knees beside the prone figure of Laxton Crenshaw.

The blood was his. It was his!

“Help me!” Ivy demanded. She was putting pressure on the councilman’s wounds.

Bennett dropped right beside her. Others were rushing into the corridor. “Get an ambulance!” Bennett bellowed when he saw Detective Trout following him. Then he helped Ivy.

Thank Christ…the blood isn’t hers.

But the killer had been there, and he’d left another victim in his wake. 

***

He didn’t usually like to attack men.  It wasn’t as much fun with them.  Their skin didn’t cut as easily, the blade didn’t slide right in for them.

The thrill wasn’t the same. The release was different, less fulfilling.

He liked his ladies. His dark, fragile…beautiful ladies. He’d learned to appreciate them.

The councilman had just run into him in that darkness.  The guy had been in his way, prey that he couldn’t tolerate. A few thrusts of his knife, and Laxton Crenshaw hadn’t been a problem, not any longer.

That just left me…and Ivy.

Such a wonderful surprise, to have her searching for him in the dark.

And she’d fought. He’d liked that.  He never wanted his victims to just submit. Where was the fun there? He couldn’t prove his dominance if they just waited for his knife.

I gave Ivy a choice.
Because he always gave his ladies a choice. That was
his
rule. He could be good or he could be bad.