The Bad Place by Dean R. Koontz

Wondering what she looked like-and suddenly overwhelmed by a need to

know how her blood would taste stepped out of the open doorway and took

three steps to her. He made no effort to be silent, but she did not

look up.

The first she became aware of him was when he seized a handful of her

hair and dragged her, kicking and flailing, out of the chair.

He turned her around and was instantly excited by her.

He was indifferent to her shapely legs, the flare of her hips, trimness

of her waist, the fullness of her breasts. Though beautiful, it was not

even her face that electrified him. Something else. A quality in her

gray eyes. Call it vitality. She was more alive than most people,

vibrant.

She did not scream but let out a low grunt of fear or an then struck him

furiously with both fists. She pounded his chest, battered his face.

Vitality! Yes, this one was full of life, bursting with life, her

vitality thrilled him far more than any bounty of sexual charms.

He could still hear the distant splash of water, the rattle-h of the

bathroom exhaust fan, and he was confident that he could take her

without drawing the attention of the man long as he could prevent her

from screaming. He struck her on the side of the head with his fist,

hammered her before she could scream. She slumped against him, not

unconscious dazed.

Shaking with the anticipation of pleasure, Candy placed her on her back,

on the table, with her legs trailing over the edge He spread her legs

and leaned between them, but not to commit rape, nothing as disgusting

as that. As he lowered his face toward hers, she first blinked at him

in confusion, still rattlebrained from the blows she had taken. Then

her eyes began to clear. He saw horrified comprehension return to her,

and he went quickly for her throat, bit deep, and found the blood, which

was clean and sweet, intoxicating.

She thrashed beneath him.

She was so alive. So wonderfully alive. For a while.

WHEN THE deliveryman brought the pizza, Lee Chen took it into Bobby and

Julie’s office and offered some to Hal.

Putting his book aside but not taking his stockinged feet off the coffee

table, Hal said,

“You know what that stuff does to your arteries?” :’Why’s everyone so

concerned about my arteries today?”

‘You’re such a nice young man. We’d hate to see you dead before you’re

thirty. Besides, we’d always wonder what clothes you might’ve worn

next, if you’d lived.”

“Not anything like what you’re wearing, I assure you.” Hal leaned over

and looked in the box that Lee held down to him.

“Looks pretty good. Rule of thumb-any pizza they’ll bring to you,

they’re selling service instead of good food. But this doesn’t look bad

at all, you can actually tell where the pizza ends and the cardboard

begins.” Lee tore the lid off the box, put it on the coffee table, and

put two slices of pizza on that makeshift plate.

“There.”

“You’re not going to give me half’,.”

“What about the cholesterol?”

“Hell, cholesterol’s just a little animal fat, it isn’t arsenic.” WHEN

THE woman’s strong heart stopped beating, Candy pulled back from her.

Though blood still seeped from her ravaged throat, he did not touch

another drop of it. The thought of drinking from a corpse sickened him.

He remembered his sisters’ cats, eating their own each time one of the

pack died, and he grimaced.

Even as he raised his wet lips from her throat, he heard the door open

farther back in the house. Footsteps approached. Candy quickly circled

the table, putting it and the woman between himself and the doorway to

the dining room From the vision induced by the dummy’s scrapbook of

pictures, Candy knew that Clint would not be as easy to kill as most

people were. He preferred to put a little distance between them, give

himself time to size up his opponent rather than take the guy by

surprise.

Clint appeared in the doorway. Except for his outfit slacks, navy-blue

blazer, maroon V-neck, white shirt looked the same as the psychic

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