However, if she called him baby or asked him to rub her back one more time, he thought he might entertain canceling his insurance policy by ripping her throat out. He daydreamed about kissing her cold, dead lips good-bye and never looking back.
He wanted to make that dream a reality.
Instead, he sat at her glass dining table, choking down her pathetic attempt at Spanish Gazpacho soup. He had grown up on gazpacho as a boy in Spain. The last thing he wanted to eat while in America was food he could get back home.
To make the soup even worse, she heated it.
“How is it?” Betty asked.
Jose looked up from his steaming spoon. “It’s hot.”
“It’s soup.”
He raised a brow. “It’s gazpacho.”
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“I know that.” Betty made a face. “Eating cold soup is disgusting.
I improved it by serving it heated.”
Jose dropped his spoon back into the bowl and shoved his chair away from the table.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” He grabbed his jacket.
He felt her glare burning into the back of his head and smiled. He couldn’t kill her, but it brought him some solace to know he pissed her off.
“I tried to do something nice for you,” she said.
Jose reached for the door and turned around with a sarcastic smirk. “Then I guess you failed. I’m going out to get something I can actually eat. I’ll be back before sunset.” The hurt in her eyes satisfied him and eased the growing rage inside of him. She wouldn’t cry. He knew her well enough to know she’d never give him the satisfaction of tears, but he had wounded her.
It would suffice for now.
Jose closed the door and looked up at the sky. Twilight. Shit.
Calisto might already be alert.
Rubbing his hands down his face in frustration, he cursed himself inwardly for his carelessness. He should’ve checked the time before insulting Betty and storming out. He couldn’t wander back in now and keep his pride intact.
But if he ran into the Night Walker without Betty, he would have much more to worry about than his pride.
He took a deep breath and turned back, forcing himself to open the door and step inside. He pasted a look of contrition on his face. “I couldn’t leave knowing I hurt you. Forgive me?”
“You were an asshole.”
God, he hated her. He’d been a jerk intentionally. Did she think he didn’t notice his own behavior? Of course she did, because Betty knew everything. She thought she did, anyway.
“I am very particular about food from my homeland,” he said.
“At least I tried.” She sipped her mineral water. “You didn’t even say thank you.”
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His fists balled up at his sides while he fought to hold back the fury lurking far too close to the surface. He refused to play her game and thank her for anything, least of all the slop she called gazpacho.
Closing the door behind him, Jose walked through the sterile interior of her condominium and around the glass dining table. He brought his hands up to her shoulders and kneaded them firmly, imagining his fingers gripped her throat instead of her shoulders.
Betty hummed, dropping her head forward. “Mmm, feels good.” He nodded, closing his eyes and working his hands in closer and closer to the base of her neck, his fingers pressing harder, gripping tighter. As the fantasy grew in his mind, he saw her eyes light with terror when she realized she had made a fatal error in judgment. It was a sweet victory, even if it was only in his imagination. Soon it would be real. Soon he would choose who lived or died.
He would have the ultimate power, even over death itself.
Betty’s hands reached up to cover his own, moving them farther out on her shoulders, but in his mind, he strangled her, slowly watching the life drain from her icy blue eyes. He pressed his hips against the back of her chair, his member aching for satisfaction.
Jose’s fingers slid down from her shoulders until his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them forcefully. Her back arched, responding to his aggressive touch.
He opened his eyes, looking down at her, watching his hands corrupt her body, his fingers sliding in between the buttons of her blouse to tease her hungry flesh. Gripping either side, he suddenly ripped it open. Buttons clattered around them, and his hands invaded her black lace bra, pinching her nipples until she gasped.
Dominating her was a sinful pleasure that he enjoyed immensely.
And he intended to enjoy her, right here, right now.
With a sweep of his arm, he cleared the table of the soup, as well as everything else. Plates and bowls shattered against the marble floor, glasses spilled, and what remained of their dinner smeared red across the glass dining table. He yanked Betty into his arms, his lips claiming hers in a demanding kiss that would accept nothing less than complete surrender. He unclasped her bra, yanking it fiercely from
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her body.
Her fingers searched for the buttons on his shirt, but Jose caught her hands, bringing them down and behind her waist. He held her wrists behind her back with one hand, and suddenly broke the kiss, turned her away from him, and shoved her facedown onto the glass table. Yanking up her skirt, he tore her thong underwear and kicked her feet further apart. Her hips tilted slightly, hungering for his entry as he opened his pants.
He stroked himself for a moment with his free hand. Watching her lie there in front of him, pressed facedown, topless on the dirty table, her skirt lifted to expose her most private areas, and the remnants of her torn underwear still clinging to her upper thigh, made his erection rock hard.
He was in control. He had the power.
Jose thrust himself inside of her, violating her over and over, imagining she resisted instead of working her hips into his. He envisioned her moans of pleasure were cries of mercy, and her nails were digging into his wrists out of fear instead of pleasure. When he finally spent himself inside of her, he wished he could just walk away.
Jose stepped back as Betty stood up with a blissful, sexy smile.
“You’re forgiven. God, that was incredible.” It would have been even better if she could no longer speak. He tucked himself back inside his pants and zipped them up.
“Come on, I need a shower now. If you wash my back, I’ll wash yours,” she said with a purposefully seductive tone, re-igniting Jose’s urge to choke her to death.
He forced a smile and nodded, following her back to the master bedroom. He watched her take off what remained of her clothes and undressed while she started the water in the shower.
Betty stepped inside with a smile. “Oh I almost forgot, Kate called today while you were out. She was looking for Calisto. I guess she’s back in town.”
Jose froze. “She is here, in San Diego?”
“Yes. She’s probably with Calisto right now.” His heart pounded in his chest, making his pulse throb in his ears.
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He lost himself in his thoughts as Betty washed his hair. Her constant petting usually annoyed him to no end, but right now he hardly noticed.
He needed a plan.
He squeezed shampoo into the palm of his hand, working it through Betty’s long blonde hair, and weighed his options. If Kate was calling Betty to find out Calisto’s whereabouts, then she obviously had no idea of her lover’s daylight sleeping habits. Jose felt fairly certain Kate had no idea about Calisto’s true nature.
“That feels so good, baby.”
Jose’s jaw clenched when Betty’s voice interrupted his chain of thought. He didn’t answer her, just pulled her back into the water, rinsing out the shampoo and letting his mind wander back to his plans.
If Calisto hadn’t revealed he was a blood-drinker, then what made Kate leave? Had they fought, or did Calisto send her away for her own safety without explanation? He supposed he would know soon enough.
The first step would be finding Kate. He couldn’t risk going to Calisto’s home tonight. Then it came to him.
Kate’s house.
He still had a key. He could wait for her there until daylight, and even if she didn’t come home, once the sun came up, he’d be free to go to the Night Walker’s house and meet her there while Calisto slept.
Quickly rinsing off the soap, Jose stepped out of the shower and toweled off. The bathroom tiles were cool against his feet.
“Where are you going?”
He gave Betty a dismissive glance. “To find Kate.”
“What?”
He could already hear her anger rising to the surface. Jose learned early on Betty had an unmistakable cold sarcasm to her voice when something displeased her, and he heard it now.
“I said I am going to find Kate.”
“Now? You can’t be serious.” She added with a sultry smile, “I had plans for you.”
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“I’m not interested in your plans. In fact, I have plans of my own.” She stepped out of the shower, her eyes blazing. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I disagree.” He pulled on his jeans.
“I don’t believe this.” Her cheeks flushed with color. She grabbed his wrist. “You can’t be serious. You’re really going out right after we had sex to see Kate?”
“Yes.” Jose jerked his arm free and pulled on his shirt. The moment his head popped through the opening, her hand connected with his cheek. The slap echoed through the bathroom.
“Over my dead body.”
Jose looked at her with a cold, hateful sneer, lifting her hand to kiss it. “As you wish.”
Before she had a chance to react, he shoved her against the wall, and his hands closed around her throat to prevent her from screaming.
Finally, after weeks of enduring her company, he saw the fear he had hungered for burning in her eyes. Her hands flailed, slapping and scratching at his face. Her struggles satisfied him far more than he imagined. Her body glistened, still damp from the shower, her breasts heaving as she fought to breathe.
Beautiful.
Once again his jeans became uncomfortable as his arousal grew.
Wedging his shoulder against her flailing body, he removed one hand from her throat to open his pants.
A whimper escaped her crushed windpipe, and he laughed as her vain attempts to escape increased. Before he pulled himself free from the confines of his jeans, Betty’s knee jammed up into his groin, hard.
He lost his grip on her, doubling over in pain.
Betty wrestled free of him and ran for the door. Rage shot through him as Jose reached out and caught a handful of her hair.
“You whore!” He growled, still grimacing in pain.
He yanked her back to him, striking her across the face with his free hand, his ring biting into the soft flesh of her lip as she fell to the floor.
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He pinned her to the ground, gripping her throat until she choked for air. “You said you had plans for me. Well, I have plans of my own.” He freed himself from his jeans.
Jose’s hips surged forward, and he plunged back into the moist warmth of her body. He loosened his hold on her throat just enough to hear her gasp and cry. Such an exquisite sound. He licked away the blood on her lip, laughing as she tried to slap him away from her.
“I like it when you fight.”
He ran his hand up her curvaceous body to grip her breasts, pinching them viciously until he saw the pain register in her eyes. He bent forward to kiss her swollen lips, biting at them as he whispered,
“I’m only giving you what you wanted... ” His words trailed off as he brought both hands to her throat, squeezing and clenching her neck. Her struggles weakened and the life faded from her eyes. Within minutes, she stared blankly at the ceiling. He continued thrusting his hips into her, enjoying every seizure of her muscles. He withdrew from her dead body, leaving her on the floor in a heap.
He stared down at her lifeless form for a moment. He had fantasized for years about taking a life. He never realized it would be so empowering.
Tucking himself back inside his jeans, he knelt down to kiss her temple, gently stroking her wet hair back from her battered, lifeless face. “I will never forget you, Betty.” He straightened, kicking her onto her stomach, and walked out without a second look.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Calisto watched Kate go, unsure of how he should react. He wanted to chase after her and keep her safe, but he also knew she deserved time to think about the ramifications of what he had revealed.
If she chose to love him, they would never have a normal life.
No children, no picnics in the afternoon. Her life with him would be confined to the night. He would never be able to give her a family.
She needed to consider the truth of what their future would be like, without him hovering nearby.
However, her safety still had to come first.
He ran into the darkness, his body transforming into a raven as he took flight. Time to finish his battle with Jose. For good.
Calisto landed silently on the balcony of Betty’s condominium and looked through the sliding glass door for any sign of Jose. With Kate back in San Diego, he couldn’t risk allowing the madman to live any longer. If he had to mesmerize Betty to complete his mission, then so be it.
It had to end now.
He didn’t bother to knock, but reached for the door handle. It wasn’t locked. Calisto stepped inside and frowned. It was quiet, too 232 LISA KESSLER
quiet. Could they be sleeping already?
Calisto found her taste in contemporary design unbearably stark and sleek, but right now, it wasn’t the coldness of her interior design that had his attention.
It was the mess. Uneasiness washed over him when he saw Betty’s dining room table.
In the years he’d known Betty, she’d never left a mess behind. In fact, on occasion she had tidied up his office when he’d left papers strewn across his desk, or his wastebasket sat precariously on the brink of overflowing. So seeing her dining room in such a state of disarray worried him.
Puddles of soup dried on her glass dining table, and broken glass and shattered bowls littered the marble tiled floor. Silverware lay strewn all the way across the room. Betty never would have allowed a mess like this to linger so long.