Dark Obsession by Amanda Stevens

glasses and, ironically, Slade’s own need to hide his eyes made him blend in even more effectively, made it difficult to distinguish between him and those he hunted.
    Actually, he had also seen Racine here with Megan one night and he wondered now when the redhead would make the connection. Things could start getting sticky for him if too many people began asking too many questions. Racine and Dr. Traymore would both eventually have to be dealt with, but Erin Ramsey was his first concern. He had to keep the truth from her at all costs, but already he knew she had suspicions. She couldn’t write the stories she wrote without at least halfway believing.
    He thought about her assertion that she wanted to help in the investigation, and his mouth thinned. It was his job to make sure she stayed safe, but that meant he’d have to see her again. And if he saw her again, he knew he’d want to touch her, to test for himself the softness of her skin, the silkiness of her hair. And if he touched her once…
    Don’t, he warned himself. Don’t think about her that way.
    She was exactly the kind of woman who could prove dangerous to a man like him. The kind ofwoman who could look into his eyes and gaze deeply into his soul. The kind of woman who could learn all his secrets, no matter how hard he tried to guard himself against her.
    There had been another woman like that once…another woman a lifetime ago….
    A vision materialized in his mind, and for a moment, Slade allowed himself to remember Simone’s face. But he didn’t remember the innocence. Nor the youth and the beauty and the trust that had once radiated from her visage when she’d looked at him. What he saw—what he made himself see—was the evil she had become.
    Because of him.
    Slade’s fists clenched tightly as he tried to shut off the memories, but they were coming back stronger than ever tonight. Erin Ramsey had done that to him. She had made him remember who and what he was. She had reminded him of what could never be again.
    He ripped off his dark glasses and passed a weary hand over his eyes. But almost immediately he replaced the glasses. He didn’t want people looking into his eyes. Didn’t want people staring into his soul. Didn’t want people reading the truth about him.
    The music swirled around him, sensuous and seductive, and he watched the bodies writhing on the dance floor. How many of them would leave here, their souls untouched? How many of them were even now fighting the blood lust that tormented their everywaking moment, from sundown to sunup? What truths would be revealed if everyone removed their dark glasses?
    He sighed deeply, feeling the gloom of the place settle over him. He always felt depressed, coming here, and yet he couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t keep from warning the innocent young women who strayed in here, looking for thrills. Couldn’t help trying to protect others as he hadn’t been able to protect Simone.
    Eight years ago, he thought, staring down at his scarred hands. Eight years ago he’d come here with Simone, the night they’d gotten engaged. She’d been so young then. So beautiful and innocent.
    Or so he’d thought.
    But Simone had been taken with Nosferatu’s the moment they’d stepped inside. The dark, eerie atmosphere. The loud, erotic music. The curtained alcoves that hid only God knew what. She’d been drawn to it all in a way Slade hadn’t understood. Then.
    They’d met Drake D’Angelo here that night. He’d appeared out of nowhere, a tall, gaunt stranger who had captivated Simone the moment he’d touched her hand.
    Slade squeezed his eyes closed, trying to stem the memories, but try as he might, he couldn’t keep them away. He knew that. Every time he set foot in this place, it was his way of making restitution for Simone’s life. For her soul.
    That night, after they’d gotten home, Slade remembered how wildly passionate Simone had been. How…untamed her lovemaking had been. He’d never seen her