She squinted as she craned her head to see in the darkness.

“I’m FBI Agent Cadence Hollow,” the voice told her. “We met at Dale’s earlier tonight.”

Tears stung Christa’s eyes. She remembered the agent.

“Is there a problem with your vehicle?” Cadence asked, raising her voice.

Christa rolled down the window as fast as she could. “It just stopped.” Tears wanted to choke her. “It stopped.”

The other agent, the handsome man with the hard eyes, stood behind Cadence. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I just want to get home.”

The two agents shared a look. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you get there.”

Sonofabitch! The agents had followed Christa. How had they known he wanted her? How?

Christa’s car had stopped, just where he’d wanted. She’d been alone. Such perfect prey.

But the agents had been there.

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Now they had Christa. He watched from the darkness, every light in his vehicle out.

Christa’s car door was open, the light spilling onto the ground. In the pool of illumination, he saw Kyle pull out his phone.

Calling for backup.

The agent would figure out what had happened to Christa’s car.

Not the gas this time. He’d made the radiator overheat. Giving her enough time, just enough, to get where he needed her to be.

He’d even been out there, waiting for her.

But she hadn’t come alone. The agents had been tailing her.

Dammit.

His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth. Christa had been so perfect. He’d needed her.

He reversed, moving slowly, keeping his lights off.

Part of him wanted to floor the vehicle, to get out of there as quickly as he could.

The agents would hear him. They’d chase him.

He wouldn’t be caught.

He turned the car, headed quietly down the narrow dirt road, a road that would cut through the hills and forest and send him out far away from the agents.

And Christa.

Perfect Christa.

He’d had his eyes on her for years.

So many years.

But she’d been in Maverick. She’d had to wait until it was time to hunt there again.

The agents are screwing up everything. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen. The pine trees and the darkness wrapped around him as he drove. Drove and drove as the rage built inside of him.

He needed his prey. He was empty. Alone. He needed her.

Maria…

He needed his perfect girl. Maria had been his first. He’d thought he could never have another girl who would be as good.

Kyle McKenzie had been there. Coming back to the town. Searching. Always looking.

But you couldn’t find her, could you? So close, but so far away.

Kyle had joined the FBI. Started tracking others. Did you forget about me?

It had seemed that way. Three years…

The urges within him had grown again. But he’d realized he had to be more careful. Then, one night, he’d found himself on another dark road. With another girl. A girl who could have been all he needed, too.

Three years. That night, the rush had been just as good. Just as strong.

The power had flooded through him as he’d taken her.

He’d surrounded her with darkness. Locked her away. Held the ultimate sway over her life.

After that girl, he hadn’t tried to hold back. When the urge came for another—he took her.

A new girl, a new year. The same rush.

He taught his girls. They learned to obey him. If they didn’t obey, they suffered.

Some learned faster than others.

Some…didn’t learn at all.

The car fishtailed off the dirt road, cutting once again into the highway. He jerked the wheel, bringing the vehicle under control. He had to play this cool.

He passed the bright lights of a gas station, and almost missed the blonde who was hurrying out of a red sports car.

He slowed his vehicle.

The blonde disappeared into the gas station.

The girl, the blonde…she might not be perfect, she might not be what he wanted—

But the agent took my girl.

So he’d have to make do.

Because the urges within him were too strong to deny. He would show the FBI. He would show them all.

They can’t stop me.

“How did you know?” Christa whispered. She was standing to the side, watching as the tow truck settled in to haul her car away.

Kyle saw that she was still shaking. She’d been terrified when they first approached her. Terrified, with good reason.

Christa had been prey tonight.

“Cadence knew.” His stare slid to her. She was huddled with some local cops, talking quietly. No doubt telling the men to keep their eyes open as they continued patrolling.

They had a killer in the area.

When they’d left that back room and headed into the main bar area once again, Cadence’s attention had focused on the waitress. The one with the nervous hands who jumped so quickly to obey Dale’s instructions.

Cadence had made a quick call to Dani, and they’d pulled up Christa Donaldson’s background information almost instantly. No speeding tickets. No jail records. A model citizen.

When they’d questioned Dale again, he’d told them about Christa’s mother.

A good girl. They’d followed her because Cadence wasn’t wrong when it came to victim profiles.

Never wrong.

The patrons in the bar had been pairing up. They’d actually seemed to have gotten the message about not leaving alone.

Christa had slipped out alone, with her shoulders hunched.

“Why me?” Christa asked, voice breaking.

“You’re his type.” The bastard had gone back to the beginning. Back to his location pattern. He’d lost Lily, and Kyle had known the killer would have to strike immediately again. They’d headed straight to Maverick and were prepared to stay as long as it took for the killer to strike. They hadn’t had to wait long. Part of Kyle was surprised how little they’d had to wait. Because they hadn’t delayed their search in Maverick, Christa was alive.

But now he wondered…since he hadn’t been successful in Maverick, did that mean he’d go on to the next city? Hit again, as soon as he could? If so…

We’ll be ready for you.

But they weren’t giving up on this county yet. The perp had been there, and he’d lay odds the guy had been in that bar. Did he see us? Was he there when Cadence and I went inside? So many people had been crammed into that place. Too many faces.

“Christa.” Cadence came toward her, moving quickly, easily, over the broken road. “Did you talk with anyone tonight? Anyone who might have asked you some personal questions? Anyone who wanted to know a little too much about you?”




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