No Place Like Hell by K. S. Ferguson Page B

French. I'm a decorated combat vet, you know." He smiled, and his eyes gleamed. "But if you want to protect me, I won't object. Maybe you could do it over dinner tonight?"
    He took my hand. His grip felt warm and firm against mine, and he gave me his undivided attention while he waited for my answer.
    "Sorry," I said. "I work tonight."
    "Can't call in sick?"
    "And then be seen at a restaurant having dinner with you? I'm in enough hot water already."
    "Who said anything about a restaurant? I thought you could come to my place." He waggled his eyebrows.
    For one tiny moment, I thought about taking him up on his offer. But I couldn't lie to Dave. Besides, I wasn't ready for a private dinner with Tad. In fact, it made me more than a little uncomfortable.
    "Maybe a rain check?"
    Tad's mouth turned down. "It never rains in California."
    We'd reached the end of the pier, but Tad didn't show any signs of turning my hand loose despite my refusal of his invitation. I wondered if anyone would recognize us from the newspaper pictures. The last thing I wanted was to end up on the society pages.
    Tad walked me all the way to my car. He took my keys, unlocked my door, and opened it for me. His manners made my toes curl.
    "Think about what I said, Nicky. Think about the innocent victims you can save if you stop the Slasher."
    I slid behind the wheel. Tad leaned over, kissed my cheek, and then closed my door.
    "If you won't let me make you dinner, will you at least have lunch with me tomorrow?"
    The spot where his lips touched me tingled. A voice I thought couldn't possibly be mine replied, "You're on."

20
     
    Kasker missed Susie. He'd found a brunette at a party to give him a blow job, but she'd been so drunk there'd been minimal pleasure in it. Susie had been the adventuresome sort who knew how to get a guy's rocks off.
    There'd been no word of Susie's death either in the Sunday morning paper or on the radio news later in the day. Perhaps the neighbors hadn't smelled her yet. They would. It was just a matter of time.
    The cops would find his fingerprints at Susie's. Then they'd come knocking. He'd cleaned out his stash of weed and wad of cash and made sure his apartment had nothing more innocuous in it than a six-pack of beer and a wedge of moldy cheese.
    He wasn't worried. He had the mechanic to provide an alibi for how he'd spent Saturday afternoon. He hoped the guy wasn't still pissed about the walk to his truck.
    But now it was time to focus on the hunt. In another twenty minutes, Lester Renquist would die from a ruptured aneurism. Kasker didn't understand how Seve could predict the exact time and cause of death, but he did. The foreknowledge robbed much of the satisfaction from the hunt.
    When Renquist died, Kasker would devour his soul. He could smell the damnation burning sweet in his nostrils, taste the essence in his mouth, feel its silky texture sliding down his throat.
    His foot pressed the accelerator, sending the Mustang charging through the night toward the luxury apartment building where the unsuspecting Renquist awaited. Cool salt air flowed through the window but did nothing to slow the heat building in his true skin.
    Three blocks from Renquist's, he slowed. Renquist lived in the penthouse on the fifteenth floor. The height added to the logistical problem of getting the flesh close enough that he could maintain his connection while he abandoned it to harvest the soul.
    He crept along the street lined bumper-to-bumper with vehicles. Hot little sports jobs alternated with luxury cars as big as buses, all an ostentatious show of their owners' wealth.
    A broad walkway led to iron gates that blocked entry to the building. Beside the gates, a silver panel of call buttons glinted under harsh security lights. At the building's underground parking garage, a guard dozed in a lighted kiosk, and a barricade barred the entrance. A sign proclaimed parking for residents only.
    Goats! He should have come earlier and scoped the place out,