Page 98 of The Devoted Game

But first, one way or another, she was going to get Fincher.

Twenty-Seven

6:40 p.m.

His eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness. The vague impressions of their profiles were visible. The sounds of their animal-like mating arousing.

It was the first time he had been aroused in eight long years.

Sinceshehad murdered his true other half.

Number Thirteen. He was so close.

Her cries grew frantic now ... she was coming again.

He touched his crotch ... wondered at how simply watching her again could make him hard this way. His gratification in the past had come from watching his other half, not the women he chose. The watching had been enough. He was never allowed to touch. Never allowed to do anything except take what remained. That, too, had been enough.

But it was different now. Now there was no one but him. Still, he had to be very careful ...very careful.Getting caught would be bad. His other half had told him what happened to those, like them, who were caught. Bad, bad things. He would be tortured in prison ... perhaps to death.

He would never be caught alive.

Death would be far more accommodating.

So, he was always careful.Thiswas a risk. But he had to take it. He could not allow her to continue living. It wasn’t right ... not after what she had done.

Finding her home had been so easy.

Her parents had both been at work today. They would never know he had been inside their attractive home. He never, ever left evidence. He faithfully shaved his head, his arms, his legs ... any place where there was hair, he removed it. And his skin was meticulously exfoliated and moisturized. His fingerprints had been obscured by a laser technique years before. Nothing was left to chance. His entire existence had been as a shadow ... a complement to his real self.

The grunting of the man’s climax drew his attention back to the SUV.

Perhaps he would recall these sounds and images later for his own pleasure. When he was safe and alone in his own private dwelling, where there was no fear of being caught.

Maybe he would take Number Thirteen home with him and use her the way his other half had. His car was parked on a street just beyond the woods. Why not take her? He was prepared, had taken all the necessary precautions. He was smarter than anyone knew.

That was how he had survived alone, without anyone to give him instructions.

Perhaps it was time he took charge and enjoyed some of the things he desired.

Number Thirteen and the man stumbled out of the vehicle and moved toward the door leading into the house, their bodies still entwined ... their mouths devouring each other.

He hovered deeper into his corner in case the lights were turned on again. He wanted her to know he was here ... just not yet. He would wait until there was an opportunity with her alone. And then he would finish what his other half had started.

No one had ever been as good astheyhad been when both halves had worked as one. No one had known who they were ... nothing.

Nameless.

Brilliant and beautiful.

Perhaps that fear-inspiring name would rise again.

This time there would be only one.Him.

The door into the house closed, leaving him alone in the darkness once more. He would wait to see if the man left. There was no need to hurry. He had plenty of time.

He eased from his cramped corner and stretched. He opened the car door and sniffed, savoring the smell of sex. His cock twitched. Yes, perhaps he would take her home with him and keep her for a while before forcing her to face her destiny.

If he disposed of her properly, no one would ever find her.