Twisted (Burbank and Parker 1)

Sloane felt that familiar knot tighten her gut, the knot that occurred every time she visualized Derek with another woman.

And she hated the fact that, despite what a bastard he’d been, despite the thirteen months that had passed since the two of them were over, that knot was still there.

CHAPTER

TEN

DATE: 31 March

TIME: 0500 hours

I’m losing.

Time. Control. The culmination of everything I’ve planned.

All being threatened.

The demons are screaming. They won’t be silenced. Satisfying them takes more time and energy each day. I must stave them off, devote my efforts to the preparations—for those already here, and those who have yet to arrive.

Especially for her. When her time finally comes, everything has to be perfect. She’s my counterpart, my other half.

The epitome of all goddesses.

Most of the goddesses are in place—Aphrodite, Hera, Astraeus, Hestia—situated in the wings as they await their ultimate passage.

Gaia is not following the timetable. I can’t allow that. She must be regulated until all the others are acquired and ready. Anything less is unfathomable.

I’ll expedite my plan. Cut corners. I loathe that. Haste spawns regret. But my options are nil.

And Gaia isn’t the only obstacle. A new one is presenting itself.

Athena.

She’s still a warrior with a will of iron. She refuses to submit to the inevitable, and to accept her fate. With the others, acceptance came more easily. And the few times they resisted, I silenced them with drugs. That doesn’t work with Athena. She can’t tolerate any of the sedatives. Every time I administer them, she vomits profusely. She’s lost so much weight and looks so ill that it worries me. I increased her meal portions and stopped sedating her, while at the same time taking great care to lock her up in case she had any thoughts of escape.

She still didn’t eat. When I visited her room, she was just sitting on her bed, staring off into space. She looked dazed and weak. I went to her, and asked if she needed anything. She requested a cool cloth. I was happy to oblige.

I should have realized she was just trying to lull me into a false sense of security. When I returned with the cloth, she flew at me and tried to knock me down and run away. Of course I stopped her. But that wasn’t enough. She had to be punished. I had to make sure she didn’t try something like that again. So I had no choice but to hurt her. I know I was justified. Still, it upset me to hear her sobs. It upset me more to see her blood.

I bandaged her wounds. But I still had to make it up to her. So I brought her one of my lemon squares at dinnertime—a token of apology. She called me horrible names and flung the lemon square in my face. When I took out my handkerchief and began wiping my face, she overturned the dinner tray—dumping plates, plastic silverware, cups, and food—all on the floor. Then she swung the tray wildly, trying to strike me as hard as she could. I stopped her just in time. Then I sedated her and left her to lie in her own vomit. Even a gracious man can take so much.

Killing her is not an option. Not now. Not in anger. That would be blasphemous. It has to be for a higher purpose.

I needed to be reminded of that higher purpose.

I needed to see her.

Hunterdon County,

New Jersey 5 A.M.

The rest of the world might be just waking up, but for Sloane the day was well under way. She’d nodded off for an hour or two after devising a preliminary plan for the next phase of Penny’s case, then leaped up at 4:30 A.M. and finished mapping out the details.

The FBI might already have started the ball rolling. She had to know where things stood at their end before she did anything. The last thing she wanted was to step on their toes, or bungle their investigation by doubling up on interviews they’d already conducted.

She had to speak to Derek. She’d wait until seven-thirty to call. He’d be at his desk by then. But for now, she needed a three-mile run to clear her head.

6:15 A.M.