Dark Gold. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 3

Alexandria bit her lower lip hard enough to break the skin. That pain was real, and it was only hers. It enabled her to focus, to keep running. Whatever creature was stalking the grounds had made a kill. She could smell the blood now, was experiencing the lingering vibrations, the aftermath of violence. She prayed it wasn’t Joshua. Sobbing, she flung herself onto the narrow path winding around the building. She couldn’t lose Joshua. Why had she left him alone with only an elderly man to watch out for him?

She became aware of the fog then. Dense. Thick, like soup. It hung in the trees like an eerie white wall. She couldn’t see a foot in front of her. It even felt thick, as if she were wading through quicksand. When she tried to pull air into her lungs, she found it nearly impossible. She wanted to scream for Joshua, but some deep intuition kept her silent.

Whoever the madman was, he enjoyed the pain and terror of others. That was his rush, his high. She could not indulge his macabre tastes.

Feeling her way carefully through the trees, she literally stumbled over a body. “Oh, God,” she whispered aloud, praying it wasn’t her brother. Leaning close, she realized the corpse was far too big. Cold and motionless, he lay in a pathetic heap, tossed aside like so much garbage. “Henry.” Grief welled up as she clasped his shoulder to turn him over.

Horror rose when she saw his mangled chest. His heart was literally torn out, exposed and still. Alexandria scrambled away, knelt, and was violently sick. There were ragged wounds on Henry’s neck, wounds an animal might make.

Taunting laughter filled her mind. Alexandria wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. This depraved madman was not getting Joshua. Determined, she moved instinctively forward toward the cliffs. Waves crashing loudly against jagged rocks below and the wind rushing through the trees made it impossible to hear anything.

Without sight or hearing, Alexandria moved steadily forward, every instinct drawing her toward the demented killer. She had the impression that he knew she was coming, that he was waiting. She was also certain he believed he was controlling her, deliberately commanding her to come to him.

Despite the strong wind, the fog remained heavy, yet now, through the thickness, she caught glimpses of more horror unfolding. Three women, vaguely familiar from the restaurant, were inching their way toward the cliffs. The women had been at the table to her right; they’d left just before she had. Alexandria could tell they were in some kind of trance, staring rapturously up at the man silhouetted on the cliff sedge.

He was tall and slender but gave an impression of great strength and power. His face was beautiful, like that of an Adonis, his hair shoulder-length and wavy. When he smiled, his teeth were very white.

Like a predator’s. The moment the thought entered her head, the illusion of beauty was gone, and Alexandria saw the blood on the creature’s hands. On his teeth and chin.

The welcoming smile was a grimace, exposing vicious fangs. His eyes, on the three women, were black holes glowing a feral red in the darkness.

The women were smiling, simpering, reaching out to him. As they moved closer, he raised a hand and pointed to the ground. Obediently the three dropped to their knees and crawled sensuously forward, writhing and moaning, tearing at their clothing. The fog covered the obscene display for a moment, and when it cleared again she could see that one of the women had reached the man and was winding herself around his knees. She ripped away her blouse, exposing her breasts, touching herself suggestively, rubbing herself against the man’s body, begging and pleading for him to take her, use her. A second woman reached the cliff’s edge and clung to his waist, staring up provocatively.

Alexandria wanted to turn away from the horror of what was about to befall these human puppets, but she caught sight of Joshua walking slowly toward the man. He didn’t seem to notice the women. He looked neither right nor left, just walked forward as if in a dream state.

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