I’m here for someone else.
Raphael wasn’t at this club for sexual release; he was here for blood. To take another life and rob her loved ones of her grace.
Maria couldn’t let that happen. She could not knowingly allow this man to ensnare an innocent woman . . . even if it meant plunging into the darkness herself.
Edging closer, ignoring the voice in her head that warned her to run, Maria forced herself to play the part of the temptress, a veritable Delilah to this dark-haired, golden-eyed Samson. She forced her finger to move, and ran one red nail down the buttons of Raphael’s shirt. She felt him tense under her touch. Heard him strive for breath, for control. Maria was in a sex club; she had to appear as though she was looking for the same pleasure the other patrons were.
Even if inside she was screaming for forgiveness.
Drowning in a sea of shame and despair.
Raphael leaned closer and closer until his breath ghosted over her face. “Come with me,” he rasped, the sensual tone of his voice stirring something unknown in the depths of her soul. Maria closed her eyes, trying to fight the peculiar sensation. Raphael didn’t appear to see her momentary lapse of strength. He was too busy running his fingers through her hair, from root to end, as gentle as could be. Maria made herself move. She stood off the stool and tried her best to hide her fear. Raphael smiled. The result was breathtaking. That smile could cause a million chaste hearts to succumb to the darkness.
She refused to be one of them.
“My purse,” Maria whispered, just as Raphael tried to reach for her trembling hand. But when Maria searched the bar top, it was nowhere to be seen. Panic set in. “My purse is missing.”
The bartender overheard her.
“New policy. No personal items allowed in the club. There have been leaks, people using their phones. The boss won’t stand for it. Secrecy is key.” He placed a pink ticket beside her. “You’re number nineteen. Hand this in to the doorman when you leave, and he’ll retrieve your purse. It’s safe in the lockers.”
Maria’s vison shimmered. Tears sprang to her eyes as true helplessness and terror wrapped their talons around her heart. Her purse was locked away. The tracker. The panic button. The syringe to render Raphael unconscious.
Caught in her silent despair, Maria flinched when Raphael possessively took hold of her hand. Instinctively, she went to pull it back, to run from the club and to the safe arms of the church, but in her peripheral vision Maria saw the blond woman approaching from the other side of the room. She was walking determinedly toward Raphael.
She was an innocent.
And Raphael was going to kill her.
Maria closed her eyes. She had to make a choice. She could let this woman perish. Many would encourage Maria to allow it. The blonde was a sinner and had no respect for the Lord. But Maria didn’t judge. She would not cast the first stone. A soul was a soul. She believed everyone deserved a second chance in life. A chance to right their wrongs. It was the most fundamental part of her faith in mankind.
She couldn’t let another die in her place.
“I’ll come with you,” she whispered, unsure if her voice would be heard over the pounding music. But she saw the light spark in Raphael’s unusual eyes and knew that it had.
“Robert?” The blond woman came to a stop beside them. She looked Maria up and down, displeasure on her face. “Are we going to get a room?” She smiled, trying to be seductive. Robert. A pseudonym he must use with his victims.
Raphael didn’t even look at the woman; instead he kept his eyes on Maria. He didn’t let go of her hand. In fact, he gripped it tighter, as if he were sure she would try to escape. But Maria had made her decision. She would see this through.
It was strange. Maria had been in the position of being taken, convinced she would be killed every day that she had been held in captivity. She’d had no choices, her free will stripped from her. No decision had been hers. But right now, deciding she would be the one to die under the devilish hunter’s hands brought with it only peace. And a firm sense of control.
Because she was making the choice freely.
Sister Maria Agnes was walking into this willingly. Eyes wide open. Maybe this was God’s plan for her after all, why she had been saved all those years ago. To bring another killer to justice. Father Quinn and Father Murray would know who slayed her. They could bring him to the police and save more of the lives he would inevitably take.
“I’ve found someone else.” Maria was taken aback by the venomous tone of Raphael’s voice when he spoke to the blonde. He was a chameleon, she realized. In one breath he was seductive and charming, in the next, cold and abrupt. Maria saw the evil underneath as he looked at the woman. “I have another play partner. You’re dismissed.”