"Oh, G.o.d, yes." That moan couldn't be hers, could it?

It was, she knew it was.

"Like that, elf?" he whispered at her ear, his teeth raking against it as her hips rolled against the penetration. "Do you want more?"

"More." She was ready to beg for it. "Oh G.o.d, please, Crowe..."

Brutal, shocking heat tore through her.

She remembered the night he had taken her virginity, the searing, white-hot pleasure and pain that had engulfed her, and knew that sensation again. His fingers filled her, stretched her, piercing her with dominating strength.

"So hot," he growled at her ear as his fingers moved inside her slowly, stretching her, making her ache for more even as her flesh burned and protested the invasion. "Sweet, sweet Amelia. So hot and wet."

She was falling again. Amelia could feel it, knew what was happening, and knew it would destroy her. It had happened like this before. Crowe's touch, the power of his hunger combined with her own overwhelmed her, only to rip her heart from her chest when he walked away from her.

"Don't," she cried out, shocking herself as well as him. "Please, don't..."

Don't destroy her. Don't own her again only to toss her away.

"Don't?" The snarl in his voice ripped another cry from her soul as she forced her hips to still. To stop the needy roll, the outward thrust into each penetration that forced his fingers deeper.

"Let me go."

"No..."

"Please, Crowe," she cried out desperately, pushing against his shoulders, feeling the o.r.g.a.s.m beginning to build as his fingers found that sweet, sweet spot deep inside her. "Oh G.o.d, please let me go."

She was free so fast she nearly crumpled to the floor.

Slapping her hands against the wall behind her to catch herself, she stared up at Crowe as his own hands braced against the wall above her head.

"This time," he snarled down at her, fury raging in his eyes, darkening his expression until every plane and angle was suffused with it. "Just this time, Amelia. But you better f.u.c.king pray you can convince Wayne I'm actually sharing not just your bed but also your body. Because if you don't, then I promise you..."

His head lowered until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"I promise you, if you don't convince him we're lovers, then I'll make d.a.m.ned sure we become lovers. I'll do whatever the f.u.c.k I have to, to ensure he shows himself."

Amelia stared up at him with a sudden, horrifying knowledge.

He would use her, however he had to, to draw Wayne from wherever he was hiding.

He wasn't there for her.

He wasn't there because he ached for her, or because he needed her. He was there because he wanted vengeance.

He needed it.

He ached for it.

Crowe was hungry to make someone, anyone pay for the lifetime of h.e.l.l he'd been forced to endure, and if he couldn't find Wayne and make him pay, then he would make her pay instead.

A harsh, pain-filled sob tore from her throat. Shock and misery filled her until she swore she couldn't hold more, only to feel it building inside her further. Tears slipped from her eyes as she stared up at him.

Oh, G.o.d, how she loved him.

She loved him until the knowledge of what he could do to her, what he was already doing to her, sliced at her soul like a dull knife. The pain caused her stomach to pitch, the coffee she had drank earlier churning in it.

"I can't..." She couldn't survive this.

She couldn't survive his pain, the agony of his knowledge that a man who had once claimed to be his friend had all but destroyed his and his cousins' lives.

She couldn't survive knowing what she had come from, whose genes she shared and what the monster who had helped create her had actually done.

She could feel the blood on her own flesh now, the iron bite of it in her mouth, gagging her.

"Amelia." The rage was gone now. He reached for her again as she tore away from him, unable to bear the agony resonating through her a moment more.

The thought of him touching her, of him taking her, of staring into his eyes and knowing she was judged by the actions of her father had her heart ready to explode, her mind racing in terror.

She couldn't let him do this, to her, or to himself. The world would soon know who had terrorized the Callahan cousins. Everyone would know, and when Crowe had to face her, when his disgust with her could no longer be hidden, it would kill her.

"Don't you walk away from me again, d.a.m.n you!"

His curse forced her to acknowledge the fact that she was moving. Turning, she raced from her bedroom, down the hallway, desperate now to escape the house.

It was cold outside, the brutal mountain air carrying the certainty of snow, but she didn't pause, didn't think of what she was racing into. Only what she was desperate to escape.

He was so close. She could feel him as she neared the front door.

Reaching out for it, her fingers within inches of the k.n.o.b, she was suddenly grabbed, swung around, and forced against the door.

"Let me go!" Amelia screamed as he pulled her against his harder body, one hand burying in the hair at the back of her head and angling her head back until he could stare into her eyes.

"The h.e.l.l I will." Releasing her hair, he gripped both arms and lifted her to the tips of her toes. He glared down at her, fury pulling his lips back from his teeth in a silent snarl. "I want him dead, Amelia. f.u.c.king dead. And you'll help me draw him out. Whether you want to or not." He gave her a hard, furious shake. "Do you f.u.c.king hear me? You will help me."

"And what makes you think I can help you?" she screamed out, the pain destroying her. Yet somehow she had a feeling she knew exactly how he expected her to help him.

"Destroying our women seems to be his favorite sport. How do you think he's going to handle it when he thinks his daughter has become my woman?" Pushing away from her, Crowe flexed his fingers, fighting to ignore the need to touch her again, to feel her silken flesh against his fingertips.

He swore he could feel the heated warmth of her flesh, even in his dreams. Swore his fingertips ached with the need to touch her when he awoke deep in the night searching for her warmth.

"You would do that to me?" The betrayal in her eyes slapped at his conscience, but strangely, her voice lacked any hint of the anger he'd been prepared to deal with.

Still, her soft turquoise eyes stared back at him with bruised betrayal.

Betrayal?

How had he betrayed her?

All his life he'd dealt with her father's betrayal and had never known where it originated. He'd had no idea Wayne Sorenson was the monster stalking his family.

But Amelia hadn't known, either.

h.e.l.l, he knew she hadn't known. He knew she'd had no part in it, but the rage burning inside his soul was like an ent.i.ty all its own, its only ability that of striking out at one of the few people he knew would always forgive him.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't use any means necessary to achieve not just her future safety but also the safety of his cousins and their wives and children.

"I would demand this of the f.u.c.king Queen of England if it meant ending Wayne Sorenson's reign of terror over my family, Amelia. If that hurts your feelings, then by G.o.d I'll apologize once I see his a.s.s six feet under."

He watched as she turned slowly away from him, the weariness in her expression punching him in the gut. Because he knew it was his fault. He had put that look in her eyes, and he hated himself for it.

What the f.u.c.k was he doing, not just to her, but to himself as well?

That b.a.s.t.a.r.d had all but destroyed him over the years, but that was no excuse for what Crowe was doing to her. For hurting the innocent sweetness that had always been such a part of his fairy-girl.

"Very well," she said softly, her back still to him. "I'll play the game." But when she turned around, the pain that had filled her eyes was gone. The weariness pushed away. Staring back at him was just ... emptiness.

An emptiness he swore he'd see replaced, soon, with heat.

As soon as Wayne was dead.

"I won't let him hurt you again, Amelia," he vowed. That vow was all he had left to give her until the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was out of both their lives.

"I swear, I'll never let him hurt you again."

Somewhere inside her soul a scream was echoing. Her entire spirit felt wounded, and Amelia had no idea how to make the pain stop.

"You didn't let him hurt me the first time," she said, her voice distant. "That was my choice, Crowe. Just as it's my choice this time. Remember that."

As his eyes began to narrow on her she turned away from him and slowly opened the front door.

She was exhausted. It took everything she had just to survive this chaotic storm of anger, pain, and memories. She couldn't deal with him, couldn't deal with the guilt and hunger he added.

"You should leave now." He had to leave, before she completely shamed herself and begged him, pleaded with him- "Amelia." The warning tone of his voice had her back and shoulders straightening.

"You will leave. Now. I said I'd play the game, Crowe. But only the game. Once you've decided the rules, then come find me. Until then, get the h.e.l.l out of my life."

She didn't like the smile that curled his lips or the blatant promise that filled his gaze.

"I'll do that, for tonight." She had a feeling his agreement had very little to do with her demand. "Be ready tomorrow, sugar elf. Because bright and early, you'll have the rules. But once this game is over, all bets are off."

Without explaining the statement he left the house.

The second he cleared the door, Amelia closed it behind him, locked it firmly, and set the alarm.

Moving hurt, but she forced herself up the stairs to the balcony. Stepping outside she collected the key she'd always left hidden for Crowe before stepping back into her room and locking the door behind her.

She'd tried.

She'd tried so hard to ensure that Wayne didn't carry out his threat to have Crowe arrested and imprisoned when he'd learned she'd helped Crowe destroy the files seven summers before. At the same time, she'd placed herself in danger more times than she could count by ensuring he could never again build another case against the Callahans. And all the while, she'd lived with the horrifying fear that Wayne or, G.o.d forbid, the monster trying to destroy the Callahans, would learn her greatest secret.

Instead, she had begun to suspect the most horrific evil she could have imagined. And it had all begun with the lie she had overhead Wayne telling Archer Tobias. The lie that he had no personal involvement with Amory Wyatt.

Six days later she learned the truth of the monster he was.

Amelia had begun following her father the night she'd overheard him deny knowing anything more about Amory than his ident.i.ty. That night, she'd waited and watched as Amory slipped into the house, then she'd tried to follow them after they left.

She'd tracked their movements in a journal and took pictures with the small field camera she'd bought.

She had gone to the scenes where many of the young women who had been murdered over the years had been found, and she'd stolen and copied files of the investigations from the sheriff's and county attorney's offices.

But she had no more than her own gut-wrenching fear and suspicion.

She hadn't had any evidence. All she was the knowledge Wayne had lied about his whereabouts the night Katy Winslow had been killed.

He hadn't been at the house that night, and he hadn't been ill as he'd told the sheriff when he was asked why he hadn't answered his cell phone that night.

Wayne had claimed he had taken cold medicine and hadn't heard the phone.

Somehow, though, he'd known she was following him. That she was trying to find even the smallest kernel of evidence that supported her suspicions.

How had he known what she was doing?

Was it the look on her face when he'd walked into her room and her head had jerked up from the computer?

Had she looked as terrified as she felt when she looked up the stories of the young women whose deaths were attributed to the Slasher?

Or had he been watching her as she had been watching him?

Whichever, he'd paused, staring at her, then smiled with chilling evil. "Ah, Amelia," he'd sighed. "And here I'd hoped to spare you."

Amelia had to cover her lips with her hands to hold back a sob as she fought against the memories of that night.

She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to relive the h.e.l.l she had visited until Amory Wyatt had carried her from the cabin and drove her to that mountain clearing below Crowe's cabin.

She didn't want to remember.

And now Crowe was making her remember. Even worse, he was making her agree to walk through h.e.l.l for him again rather than running for the freedom she'd dreamed of.

A freedom she knew she'd never realize until Wayne was dead.

Yeah, she would play the game. And she would even play by his rules, if possible.

And when it was done, she wondered, would she be free of the past, and the memories? Would she be free of them or would she only create another nightmare she didn't want to face when morning came?

Amelia had a feeling she was only going to create another nightmare.