After The Dark. Cynthia Eden

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СКАЧАТЬ snapped up. She was behind the computer screens—his desk faced the door. So he couldn’t see what she was looking at on the monitors.

      But he could see her face. Right there, in the glow of the light, and whatever he saw on her face must have given her away because Cameron sighed. “Found out, did you?”

      Her profile for the Sorority Slasher ran through her mind.

      Highly intelligent... Cameron was a freaking genius, and he had the paperwork to prove it.

      Strong. Fit. Cameron worked out every single day. Not just some light gym work. He was into martial arts, boxing. Hell, he’d even taken up Krav Maga in the last year.

      Attractive. His features were absolutely perfect. Sharp cheekbones, deep, dark eyes, sensual lips.

      In his late twenties or early thirties... Cameron was twenty-eight.

      “I left in a rush before,” Cameron mused. “I shut down the computer, but I didn’t stop to think that you’d possibly get up in the middle of the damn night and come snooping on me.” He gave a low hum. “Figured out my password, did you?”

      Her lips felt numb as she said, “I’ve always known your password.”

      “The Lord of the Underworld.”

      Her hands inched toward his desk drawer. It was open, just an inch, and she’d caught the gleam of a letter opener in there.

      “How will this end, Sam?” Cameron asked her. “Am I really supposed to kill you now?”

      It’s him. It’s him. It’s him. Inside, she was screaming.

      Cameron took a step toward her. “What do you see on the screen?” Now he sounded curious, not angry. “Is it her? The last one? And she was going to be my last one, by the way. My experiment was over.”

      “Experiment?” Her left hand had slid into the drawer and curled around the letter opener.

      “Um. Yes.” He took another step toward her. He hadn’t turned on the lights in the room, so he was just a big, dark shadow. “I wanted to see if I could do it, you see. If I could kill. If I could get away with the crimes. And I wanted to see...what are people like...in that last terrible moment? What is it like when they know that hope is gone and they’re dying?”

      Nausea rolled in her stomach. “Cameron?” She said his name as if he were a stranger, and right then, he was. Not the man she knew. Not her ex-lover. Not her friend. Cameron was a respected professional. He was on the fast track to become the head of his department at Georgetown—after only two years there. He charmed his way past everyone’s guard.

      He was...a killer.

      He took yet another step toward her. She couldn’t see his hands. She wished that she could just see his hands.

      “There were some surprising results. Would you like to hear them?”

      Cameron always enjoyed bouncing ideas off her.

      “I felt alive when I killed those women. Interesting, don’t you think? That death finally made me feel alive? Until that point, I’d only felt that way, well...when I was fucking you. But that ended when you met Blake Gamble.”

      She flinched. “Blake and I are just...partners. Nothing more. We haven’t been together.”

      His smile was cold. “Not yet. But I know you, Sam. I know what you want.”

      This couldn’t be happening.

      “It was easy to kill.” Now his voice was almost musing. “I never hesitated. I mean, I always suspected I was a bit of a psychopath, but as we all know...psychopaths aren’t necessarily monsters. They’re just...unemotional. Detached. Able to become such great surgeons, CEOs, lawyers...even profilers for the FBI...”

      Her phone was in the guest bedroom, and Cameron didn’t have a landline. She needed to call Blake. Call Bass. Call the cops.

      “Covering up the crimes—well, that was easy, too. All so easy. The hardest part? That was staying two steps ahead of you. Because that profile you made up? The one that your boss called shit?” He was in front of the desk now. “It was dead-on.”

      She could hear the frantic drumbeat of her heart. Every. Single. Beat. “Show me your hands.”

      He laughed. “You think I’ll hurt you?”

      “Show me your hands.”

      “You were right about Allan.” He watched her with a predatory stare. “Allan did need the money and...the guy was sick, too. Dying. I was really just speeding up the process for him. It was all going to work so perfectly.” For a moment, he almost sounded sad. Almost. “But even when you were drunk...you were figuring shit out.”

      “I wasn’t drunk.”

      “Yeah, you were.” Another sigh. “I think you might have been better at profiling than you realized. But then, I always said you had that killer instinct.”

      “Show me your hands.” It sounded as if she were begging, and Samantha hated that. “Cameron...”

      His left hand came up—

      And she surged to her feet because she knew he was going to kill her. She swung out with her letter opener, and it caught his hand, sending a wet spray of blood flying.

      Cameron bellowed, and then he launched across the desk, coming right at her. They fell back together, slamming into the floor, and that impact was hard enough to knock the breath from her. But she didn’t let go of the letter opener. She kept it locked tight with her fingers, and Samantha shoved it right against his throat.

      * * *

      “DROP THE WEAPON! Drop the fucking weapon and put your hands up!”

      Samantha blinked at that shout, and she realized that she was still holding the letter opener in her left hand. She opened her hand and let it fall—the blood-soaked letter opener fell from her bloodstained fingers.

      Blood. Blood everywhere. On the floor. On the desk. On me.

      “Samantha?”

      That wasn’t the voice of an angry cop. That was a voice she knew. She squinted, and she saw Blake pushing his way past the first responders as he hurried to her. Her body started to shake.

      His gaze raked over her, taking in her bare legs, her shirt—the blood.

      “Samantha? What happened?”

      Slowly, she shook her head. She hurt. Because a lot of that blood...it was hers.

      “Samantha!” Blake’s hand closed over her shoulder. “What in the hell happened here?”

      She licked her lips. “He...he got away...”

       CHAPTER TWO

      Four СКАЧАТЬ