waited outside Hannity’s, pretending to read the dinner menu posted on the window, until a crowd of six young men approached the entrance to the dance club. Daniel fell in behind them, using them as cover until he was safely through the front door.
He peeled off, disappearing into the dim belly of the club, well away from the dance floor or the long maple bar near the far wall. Settling at a table near one corner, he scanned the club until he spotted Rose standing near the bar. Her gaze moved around the room, restive and alert.
Who was she looking for? Orion?
Daniel’s pulse quickened, anticipation battling dread in his gut. Did she know who Orion was? Was she here to meet him, to help him pick out his next prey? Was it possible?
He wished he could believe she was insane instead.
Something loud and driving played over the club’s speakers, an electronic mating call to the twentysomethings grinding and gyrating on the dance floor. He watched Rose, wondering if she’d venture from the bar and start mingling with the crowd.
Maybe she’d just come here to pick up a date, he told himself, trying to ignore the rush of acid in his gut. She was single, young and pretty. She wouldn’t be the only woman in this place looking for a warm body to share a bed with tonight.
If she were any other woman and he were any other man, he might offer himself for the job.
A smiling redhead walked slowly past his table, blocking his view of Rose. He looked up to find the woman watching him, invitation in her blue eyes. He smiled politely but looked away, trying to reacquire his target.
She was no longer at the bar.
Standing, he tried to spot her among the writhing throng on the dance floor. But she wasn’t there.
As a waitress moved his way, he headed for the front door and emerged into the cool night, the thudding beat of the music from the club echoing the pulse in his ears.
“Lose something?”
He turned to find Rose leaning against the club’s weathered brick facade, her pale brown eyes glittering.
He didn’t try to lie. “Yes. You.”
Her lips curved. “Afraid I might accost some other poor woman and loose my insanity on her?”
“Never said you were insane.”
“You didn’t have to.” Rose pushed away from the wall. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I didn’t. I was on my way to your house and spotted you crossing near the fountain.”
“You were on your way to my house? Why?”
“Did you think I’d just leave things the way they were at Melissa’s office?”
“Actually, yes.” Rose started walking down the sidewalk, heading toward Twentieth Street.
Daniel caught her arm. “My car’s parked in the lot next door. Let me drive you back to your car.”
“Who says I’m going back to my car?”
He tightened his grip on her arm. “You, of all people, should know it’s not safe for a woman to be walking around Five Points South by herself at night.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “Unless there’s some reason you believe you have nothing to fear.”
Her eyes darkened with dismay. “You think I know who the killer is? You think I’m working with him or something? My God, Daniel.” Dismay shifted to revulsion. She pulled her arm from his grasp. “I’d rather you believe I was crazy.” She headed toward the intersection with Twentieth Street.
Daniel caught up with her. “Those are the two options, aren’t they? You’re either crazy or a liar.”
“Or I’m telling the truth.”
“I gave up believing in magic in second grade.”
“It’s not magic.” She wobbled as her heel hit a crack in the sidewalk.
He caught her arm, steadying her. A buzz of energy crackled through his fingertips and shimmied up his arm. “Then, what is it?”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing up at him with haunted eyes. “It’s a curse.”
He didn’t know what to say in response. If she were telling the truth, if she could see the things she said she could, of course she’d feel that way. He understood the feeling; he’d often wondered what kind of darkness in his soul allowed him to visualize the workings of a sick, depraved mind, to predict and anticipate the most evil of acts.
She started to pull her arm away again, but he held on. “I assume you’re not here to pick up a date for the night,” he murmured. “So why the club hopping?”
She looked down. “I was looking for Melissa.”
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “She told you to stay away from her. I don’t think she was kidding. She could get a restraining order if you push this.”
Her chin jutted forward, sliding deeper into his palm. “Bars are public places.”
“Why did you think she’d be here?”
“She’d told me she and Mark were going to celebrate their third anniversary of dating by going out tonight, and I remembered that she’d said they’d met at Sizzle. I just hoped-”
“You’d find them here?”
Rose nodded.
He dropped his hand away from her face before he heeded his body’s clamoring to pull her into his arms. “And then what?”
She didn’t answer right away, piquing his curiosity. But standing in the middle of the sidewalk as they were, they were beginning to attract attention, so he pressed his hand to the small of her back and nudged her toward the parking lot where he’d left his Jeep. “Let me drive you home, Rose, and we can talk about this some more.”
“I’m not stalking her,” Rose said, even as she let him move her toward the parking lot.
“Then, what would you call it?”
She paused at the parking-lot entrance. “Let’s say-just for kicks-I see what I say I do. And that the death veils mean what I think they do. That would mean Melissa’s life is in danger, and she’s on the killer’s target list, right?”
He nudged her toward the Jeep.
“Then, Orion could be out here, right now, where she is. Looking for her just like I am. And if I find her, I might be able to spot him.”
“And do what?”
“Call the police.”
He nodded. “And tell them what? That you’ve seen death veils on Melissa Bannerman and because some poor guy just happened to be watching her inappropriately, golly gee, he just has to be the killer?”
Her mouth tightened. “Those weren’t the words I’d planned to use, no.”
“It’ll sound the same to any cop on the street, Rose.”
“Fine. You don’t approve of what I’m doing.” She stopped at the rear of his Jeep. “I didn’t ask you to chaperone me.”
“And that was your first mistake. Since we’re still pretending you really do see death veils, what makes you think the killer won’t come after you?”
“I looked in the rearview mirror before I got out of the car,” she answered, her gaze steady.
The certainty in her voice unnerved him. Maybe he’d ruled out insanity too quickly.
She looked away. “I know this makes you uncomfortable-”
“I’ve interviewed men who’ve disemboweled their victims,” he said more harshly than he’d intended, making her flinch. “I can handle hearing about your visions.”
“I’m just saying, I’m not the one in danger.”
“Maybe not from Orion,” he conceded. “But there are other predators walking these streets.”
Her expression shifted, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to her. But she squared her shoulders. “I stay in crowded places. I buy nonalcoholic drinks and never let them out of my sight. And I know better than to trust a stranger.”
“What if Orion’s not a stranger? Could be anyone. Hell, I could be Orion for all you know.”
She angled a look at him. “And you want me to get into your car in a dark parking lot?”
