Blood Dreams

'Pretty much.'

'So how do I know what it is I'm really seeing? A version of the future I help shape or one I can't avoid?'

'I guess you can never really know. Unless you learn how to be a lot more plugged in to the universe than either one of us is so far.' Paris eyed her twin, then said, 'And we share that neon subtlety. Quit stalling and finish your coffee so we can get to the station.'

'I wasn't-'

'Yeah, yeah. If you and Marc don't get things between you sorted out soon, somebody's going to have to knock your heads together. Bad timing or not, we need the two of you functional if we're going to find and stop this killer.'

It was a blunt reminder but a welcome one; Dani had discovered since signing on with Haven that being able to use her abilities in positive ways had been slowly changing how she felt about those abilities, and she wanted that to continue.

Needed it to continue.

Especially now.

So she finished her coffee and prepared to return to the sheriff's department with Paris. And it wasn't until they were almost there that she wondered suddenly why Paris had not once, in all this time, asked the question she should have asked about Dani's vision dream.

She had not asked where she was.

Because she didn't want to know the answer?

Or because, like Dani, she was afraid she already did?

Chapter Sixteen

HOLLIS HADN'T EXPECTED to sleep well on Friday night, because the day had been too long and the previous night unusually active, if only on a subconscious level.

There was something amusing in that, she decided. That what had quite probably been a brief dream experience-because they mostly were brief, even if some felt interminable while they were actually happening- could take so much out of one physically.

But dragging her exhausted self around all day Friday had certainly proven the truth of that. It had also convinced Hollis to report in to Bishop before she got ready for bed. And, more important, to hold nothing back.

'You heard the voice too?' Bishop asked.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in her motel room, using the phone on the nightstand because her cell was charging, Hollis frowned at the ice bucket on the dresser. 'Yeah, sort of. It was almost more a feeling than a sound.'

'What kind of feeling?'

'Pressure,' she replied, after thinking about it. 'Like something pushing at me. At us. Probably mostly at Dani, since she's the one who woke up with a nosebleed. Or was that from the effort to take Paris and me in?'

'It's difficult for me to even guess,' he said slowly. 'Her abilities have always been somewhat erratic, I gather, but Miranda felt she was considerably stronger than she seemed, even more than a year ago. I don't recall a nosebleed being reported by her previously.'

'Not according to Paris. I have to say, though, that I'm a lot more worried about that voice. Dani seems certain it's the voice-or thoughts, or energy, whatever-of our killer. And even if she hasn't said a whole lot about it, or showed much of what she's feeling, I think she's scared.'

'Feeling threatened?'

'Yeah, probably. He told her she couldn't run or hide and that nobody could protect her from him. And he told her from inside her head. And not just in her dreams, but when she was awake. Feeling threatened? She ought to be freakin' terrified. I'm not so sure I wouldn't be in bed with the covers pulled over my head if I were in her place.'

After a moment Bishop asked, 'How are you doing?'

Hollis wanted to give him a flip answer, but she had learned the uselessness of that where Bishop was concerned.

Just because she wasn't a telepath didn't mean he couldn't read her, even across whatever distance lay between them. So she answered honestly.

'I'm tired and worried. And even though I suppose I should be happy about it, I'm also unnerved that the dead seem to be reaching me a lot easier than they did in the beginning.'

'It is a good thing,' he reminded her.

'It's a scary thing. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to it, just so you know.' She changed the subject abruptly. 'Listen, is there any progress in revising that profile? Because we could sure as hell use it.'

'You've given me new information,' Bishop pointed out. 'Wednesday's crime scene, plus the open stalking of Marie Goode, if we assume that's him-'

Hollis interrupted to say, 'Trust me, this is hardly the sort of town to have more than one weirdo sneaking around taking pictures of women. That would be stretching coincidence to the snapping point.'

'You're assuming the killer takes photos of the murders,' Bishop pointed out calmly.

She nodded, half consciously. 'Because of the one crime scene we have. Struck me the first time I saw those overhead shots Marc's forensics team got. It was carefully chosen, and not just because it was isolated. The area made a perfect composition for his… art. He left us a picture and took one himself, I'd bet on it.'

'Then I'd call it more than an assumption,' Bishop said.

'So he's photographing not only his kill sites but also his potential victims, as he stalks them. That, plus the necklace and bracelet left so conspicuously behind-all are radical departures from his previous M.O. He's leaving traces of himself, possibly even a trail. Add in the virtual certainty now that we're dealing with a psychic mind of unknown ability-'

'And we're screwed?' she finished wryly.

'You need to be careful, Hollis. All of you, but especially you, Dani, and Paris. Because if the need to terrify is at the core of this bastard's sickness-and what little we know about him points that way-then establishing contact with Dani may be teaching him that he has a new tool. A new weapon. It may not be all about a particular look for him, not anymore.'

'I'm no profiler, and even I know that's a huge leap in the evolution of a serial killer.'

'It may not be an evolution,' Bishop said. 'He may be… devolving. The established personality matrix could be disintegrating.'

'Jesus. I didn't know that was possible.'

'With the right psychological trigger, almost anything is possible.'

'And the right psychological trigger in this case would be…?'

'I have no idea.'

Hollis sighed. 'Never thought I'd say this, but I would have preferred one of your more enigmatic answers. At least then I could cherish the illusion that somebody knew what was going on.'

'Sorry to disappoint you.' Bishop sighed. 'Just be careful, Hollis. I'll get the revised profile to you ASAP. But, in the meantime, don't be too quick to avoid whatever the dead have to tell you. Any trail he leaves, by accident or deliberation, could well take us anywhere-or nowhere; it's almost always true of serials that their victims may be our best leads in finding the killer.'

After all that plus the day she'd had, Hollis really didn't expect to sleep well. And she didn't, tossing and turning, waking up at least twice to check the clock. And the locks on her door.

Somewhere around three A.M. she finally dropped into an exhausted sleep, the heavy kind that seemed to drag one deeper than dreams. And when she woke from that, it was so sudden that all she could feel at first was the runaway pounding of her heart.

Seconds later, she knew she wasn't alone.

She had left a light burning behind the half-closed bathroom door, and it provided just enough illumination for