"You see Mr. Vincent-"

"I'll tell him he needs to come in on Monday."

Very good," Jim said, smiling. He turned and headed for the door. "We'll s ee you tomorrow then."

"I'll be here," Cole said to his retreating back.

Cole sat bolt upright in bed; sweat dripped from his brow as the sheets tan gled about his legs. He ran a shaken palm down his unshaven face and glance d to the amber glow beside the bed. Three o'clock in the morning.

A glance beside Cole told him his new dream had not been a reality. Laurie r olled over; her inky black lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and looke d up at Cole.

"What is it?" she asked, turning onto her back and stretching.

She sat up beside him. Her eyes swam with concern as she ran a hand down h is bare chest. His muscles trembled beneath her fingers. Even though they had just made love a few hours earlier, Cole had yet to become unaffected by her touch. d.a.m.n if he did not want to roll her over already.

"A dream," Cole said. "Nothing special." "You're sweating," she said. "And by the look on your face, it doesn't appe ar to have been a pleasant one. You want to tell me about it?"

Cole leaned back against the headboard and wrapped his arm around Laurie, b ringing her close to his side. He took in a deep breath to calm his frazzle d nerves.

"I don't want you to do this thing," he said.

"What thing?" she yawned, stifling it with the back of her hand.

"I don't want you to go along with what this FBI agent wants you to do. We aren't playing games here, Laurie." He grasped her chin, tilting her head s o her gaze met his. "This man is dangerous."

"You think I don't know that?" she asked. Even though she tried to be strong, Cole heard the fear in her voice. "But I'm the one he has decided to come af ter. I'm the unlucky choice and there is nothing you or I can do to change th at fact. There's no one else who can do this but me. And if it helps..." She trailed off as she laid her head back on his chest.

"What if you lose your life in the process, Laurie? What then? What the h.e.l.l will I do?"

Cole felt her cheeks rise as she smiled. "That won't happen because I have y ou to protect me."

"That wasn't enough for Jeanne." He cursed beneath his breath for bringing up his late wife. h.e.l.l, the last thing he wanted to talk about in bed with Laur ie was his ex.

"Is that what this is about?" Laurie asked, setting herself away from him.

"You think you won't be able to protect me any more than you did her?"

"Something like that."

He did not attempt to bring her back into his embrace. Instead, he stared int o the blackness of the room. The only light was that of the moon casting star k white lines across the carpet through the slats of the Venetian blinds.

Laurie reached out and ran a hand through the hair at the top of his head, pushing his stray bangs away from his eyes. "You had no way of knowing wh at Robert Freeman was going to do."

"I knew he was out. I should have protected her."

They sat there for long moments, neither saying a word. Cole stared into th e blackness, as Laurie studied the contours of his face. He knew she wanted him to say something-anything. But h.e.l.l, all he could do at the moment was indulge in self-hate.

Finally, she said, "I won't get hurt. I promise."

Cole chuckled, malice filling the hollow sound. He turned to look at her. "

You can't promise me that anymore than I can promise you I won't allow it t o happen."

"Tell me about it."

"About what?" He knew she referred to the dream, but he did not want to discuss it, as though speaking it aloud would somehow make it come true.

"You had a dream. It's not the first, is it?"

"No," he said truthfully. "I've had a reoccurring dream since the day I found Jeanne. I'm not so sure I'm any more ready to talk about it now than I was r ight after the first one."

"Maybe if you do, it will help heal the wounds. The dreams might go away."

She paused. When he said nothing, she continued, "I can't help you, Cole, not if you won't let me."

"In my dream-" Cole's voice trembled; he stared at the pale yellow wall "-th ere is blood everywhere. I cradle my dead wife's battered face in my lap, he r sightless eyes staring at me, accusing me, she curls her lips back and his ses, ' You should have been here. '"

Laurie gasped. "She was alive when you found her?"

"No." He shook his head. "It only happens that way in my dream. And when I open my mouth-nothing will come out. I can't deny it when I know how ri ght she is. And all the while, Robert Freeman stands in the background, l aughing."

Tears slipped down his cheeks as Cole brought his gaze back to Laurie. Tea rs of her own brimmed her lashes.

"I was in some bar, for crissake, beating the h.e.l.l out of some s.h.i.t who did n't deserve my anger. I was mad as h.e.l.l at finding out my wife was sleeping with my best friend. At the same time, Robert Freeman was beating my wife to death.

"Can you imagine how many blows she had to suffer before she no longer fe lt the pain? Fifty...a hundred? The autopsy showed half of her skull had ca ved in."

Laurie placed a tender kiss on his cheek as she held her palm over the other . "You couldn't have known," she said through her tears.

"But had I not been nursing my sorrows over a few beers, I would have bee n home."

"And Robert Freeman would have picked another night. Jeanne is dead, Cole , and no amount of self-punishment is going to change that." Her caring g aze seemed to wash away some of the guilt, the pain, he had harbored over the years. "Was tonight's dream the same?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. Tonight when I gathered her head onto my lap , the sightless eyes staring up at me were yours."

Laurie's eye rounded. "My G.o.d," she whispered. "No wonder you don't want me to do this."

Cole reached out and gathered her into his embrace. "I'll die before I let this son of a b.i.t.c.h touch you, Laurie. I can't fail. I'd never be able to live thro ugh losing you."

"I'll be fine," she attempted to a.s.sure him. Her body trembled against his, telling Cole she didn't believe her words any more than he did.

"Don't do this," he whispered, then placed a kiss on the top of her head. His arms tightened around her.

"I have to, Cole. I'd never forgive myself if another girl died and I knew I could have done something to help stop him."

"And if you fail?"

"I won't."

He settled against the pillow, pulling her with him, afraid to let her go. No thing could happen to Laurie Michaels, not when he finally had found somethin g to live for.

An owl hooted and the detective watching the back of the house jumps. His eyes dart nervously around as his hand lies in wait beside the silver nine-millime ter tucked firmly in its holster at his side. Seeing nothing of interest, he r esettles his back against the tree and stares at the back of the house.

The soul smiles for he himself is invisible, smaller than a flea on a dog, t inier than a termite on a tree. He can slip into any situation unseen and un heard. Like a chameleon as his skin takes on the color of his background, th e soul becomes one with the shadows. How, then, can they think to catch him when they themselves cannot adapt to his acuteness?

Cole Kincaid, the fool is he to think that the soul does not have eyes at the back of his head. He is all knowing, all aware.

Hatred glitters in his dark eyes. His muscles become like steel.

Cole Kincaid, as he sleeps beside one of G.o.d's own, thinks he can stop the i nevitable from happening. To protect her with his very life. But if he canno t find the soul then he cannot think to stop him, only prolong the inescapab le.

Sleep tight, Lieutenant. For soon, your nightmare will become your every real ity .

The soul turns and slips into the night, disappearing into the secluded forest.

The detective shivers as a chill runs down his spine. The sound of a crunchin g leaf behind leaves him cursing his sudden fear of the night.

Chapter 29.

Damien sat in the chair across from Jim, his face impa.s.sive, unappreciative . Anger radiated from his dark eyes. Cole paced the white-and-black tiled floor, every once in a while glancing back at Damien. He had lived with this man day after day for two years, never really knowing what he might be cap able of.

Could anyone ever be aware, though, what was in another's subconscious? Di d they really know another well enough to be privy to their darkest fantas ies?

Cole glanced at Jim who sat tapping the eraser of his pencil on the table s urface, glaring at Damien, as though given a reason he would pounce on the unsuspecting singer at any given moment.

He looked to Damien who toyed with the frayed edges of his flannel shirt as his mind wandered to worlds unknown. In many ways, this man had yet to reach maturity. He might very well be the seductive singer of the band D ragonslayer , but when alone, became the same monster Cole had stalked fo r weeks.

Stepping in front of Damien, Cole laid his palms on the table and stared at him. Damien held his gaze for long moments, neither saying a word. Cole co uld see the rage at being dragged down here and being accused of the unthin kable.

But as Cole figured it, Damien had nothing more pressing to do at the momen t. Practice for the night had been canceled due to the broken nose the sing er recently received, so it was not like he had had a better offer than to spend the evening with the Fairview Police. Both eyes were blackened and sw ollen, though the bruises were beginning to green around the edges.

Cole straightened his stance, crossed his arms over his chest and started th e interrogation. "We have evidence-"

"You don't have squat," Damien growled. His black eyes narrowed as his upp er lip curled, reminding Cole of the hounds of h.e.l.l. Backed into a corner with Damien Vincent suddenly looked like a place he would not relish to be .

"What size shoe do you wear?" Cole asked, looking down on Damien's large black Nike's.

Damien ran a hand through his long dark hair and glanced to the shoes on hi s feet. "Eleven," he replied shortly, looking at Cole. "Why?"

Jim shifted in his seat, looking at Cole. Cole knew without a doubt, Jim th ought this the perfect time to read the man his rights. If Cole proceeded o n without this benefit, they chanced losing any slip or confession Damien m ight unknowingly give them.

"I have to do this, Damien. We have to protect ourselves," Cole apologized before beginning.

Damien grumbled while Cole read him his rights. He crossed his arms over h is chest, glaring at Cole. Damien then signed a Miranda card, stating he u nderstood everything Cole had informed him of. He grasped the pen and hastily scribbled his name atop it. "You saying I ne ed a lawyer?"

"It's your right," Cole said.

"I haven't done a thing." He slid the card to the center of the table.

Jim s.n.a.t.c.hed it up like a dog on his last meal, walked out of the interroga tion room, and handed it to someone who could compare Damien's handwriting to that on the note sent to Laurie.

Sprayed with ninhydrin, the envelope and missive not only turned up Laurie'

s prints but someone else's as well. They had struck pay dirt. The perp was either getting very sloppy or overly confident.

All they need to do now was find who the prints belonged to. One latent had a double loop whorl with an outer trace and could be matched easily to tha t of the perp's. Damien's prints, from an earlier found arrest, at this ver y moment were being compared to the ones found on the note, as well as the unknown latent being run through AFIS.

"You want to tell me what this is about, man?" Damien glared at Cole. "Wha t the h.e.l.l am I being charged with?"

"Nothing at the moment, Damien," Cole a.s.sured. The agent retook his seat.

The whirring sound of the video recorder played in the background. "As y ou know, we are conducting a murder investigation."

Damien chuckled, raking his hair from his face with his hand. "And you thin k I did it? You think I'm this 'Vampire of Fairview' running around the cit y? Come on, Cole, you don't have anything better than this?"

"What I have and don't have at the moment is not your concern."

"The h.e.l.l it isn't!" Damien roared, coming out of his chair. The agent shif ted in his seat, ready to cuff Damien if need be. Damien wisely sat back do wn. "You want to pin this on me and you say it's not my business? I have a right to know, Cole. What the h.e.l.l do you have?"

Cole reminded Damien of his right to seek legal council, but Damien waved i t off with the brush of his hand. "I don't need a d.a.m.n lawyer. I didn't do anything."

"We have a size eleven shoe print at two of the scenes," Cole said, taking a seat at the table, folding his hands in front of him. "Do you wear size eleve n shoes?"

Damien shifted in his seat. "Yes."

"Do you know a Victoria Stanton?"

"You know I do," Damien grumbled. "That doesn't make me guilty."

"How about a Jill Anderson?"

Both Jim and Damien's gazes snapped to Cole's. He would pay h.e.l.l for this l ater. Jim was bound to be angry with Cole for not telling him about this vi ctim's tie to Damien Vincent before now.

A hasty bite is taken from the sandwich as the detective looks up to the hou se. No one or anything is moving. He takes another bite from his sandwich as a cool breeze drifts into the opened window of the car.