Page 33 of Their Haunted Hearts (Detectives Kane and Alton #27)

Thirty-Two

He’d waited until full dark and then, hidden in his truck in the forest, he buzzed down his window and stared across the road at the corn maze.

At the entrance two bales of hay stood to each side with grinning jack-o’-lanterns barely visible under the sliver of moonlight.

Come Halloween they would light the lanterns and offer the public a chance to walk through the maze to discover the center, where candy would be laid out for the children.

This time they would find something much more exciting.

He opened the door slowly, making sure the interior light didn’t illuminate the body lying beside him.

He gathered her into his arms, surprised how much lighter she’d become.

Without the blood, her face appeared hollow, like a recently shed snakeskin.

Stanton was deserted, with most people asleep in their beds and no one around to hear his boots clatter across the blacktop.

The wind rustled through the cornstalks like waves on the sea and as he entered the maze they shivered as if watching him.

Underfoot, dead stalks and yellow leaves littered the ground, their denseness covering his footprints.

It was all part of his plan. His illusion.

To most people, a vampire slayer was nothing more than a myth—until they met him.

When the weight of the body shifted in his arms, he glanced down at her face.

Empty eyes stared back at him and her slightly parted blue lips almost smiled.

She no longer resisted him. He’d tamed her, bent her to his will, and she was no longer a threat.

“Soon you will be at peace. I will make sure you will not rise in the morning.”

Darkness spread out before him but he’d memorized the way to go.

He’d watched the men cut the maze earlier and place the two hay bales in the very center.

They’d spread a Halloween tablecloth over them, ready to be covered with candy.

Halloween props, severed hands, skeletal heads with flashing eyes, and grinning jack-o’-lanterns decorated the pathways, but none would be as good or more memorable than his.

With each step the cornstalks seemed to reach out to pull her from his arms as if she had the power to make them live again.

Like her, they were just the shell of a once-living thing.

He laid her down and stood back, staring down at her.

The nightgown flowed down over her legs, making her appear to be innocent—perfect.

With care, he arranged her hair, using his comb to smooth it down over her shoulders.

He watched as the breeze moved it, making her seem almost alive but he’d never allow that to happen.

He pulled the stake from his back pocket and, taking it in his gloved hand, raised it high before plunging it deep into her heart.

No blood, only a sigh came from her body.

He lifted her arms and folded her hands below the stake and then raised her chin and arranged her hair again, to display the vampire marks.

He knelt beside her, inhaling his creation, imprinting the image of her in his mind and wondered how the sheriff would react when she found her.

A wolf howled in the distance and he smiled.

Like him there was never just one wolf. Men like him roamed the country, ridding the world of vampires.

It soon would be time for him to go. One more and he’d be gone—until next year.