Chances Are(19)

Whirling the guy around, Jake shoved him down into a chair and looked straight into his glazed eyes. “You try that again and I’ll personally make sure you’re drinking food through a straw for the next month.” Jake waited a beat and then said, “Got that?”

Jake read the man’s lips as he mumbled an apology. Releasing the guy’s shoulders, Jake looked up at Angela. Hell, she hadn’t missed a step. She was once again whirling upside down on the pole.

He checked out Kelly and noted he’d seated the other drunk. Making a sweeping glance around the audience, his eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow lurking in the doorway. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Jake made his way toward the door. In seconds, the shadow was gone, leaving Jake wondering if he had imagined it. The light was so damn dim, was he seeing shadows where there weren’t any?

Deciding to make sure, he walked out the door and looked up and down the street. There were plenty of people milling around on the sidewalk...none looked suspicious. Shrugging, Jake went back inside. Dark Angel had finished her set and left the stage. He blew out a relieved sigh, glad that the small drama was over at least for a while.

He returned to his post at the bar but found himself looking back frequently at the door. Something about the shadow bothered him. Had Dark Angel finally attracted the killer or was he being extra paranoid because of the adrenaline rush? Trusting his gut, he made a mental note to be hyper-vigilant while following Angela tonight.



Mired in disappointment and discontent, he roamed the streets of London. His newest acquisition hadn’t brought him the peace he sought. He had hoped her differences would ease the roaring beast within him. Something about her had called to him and he had taken her against his own advice. Now he was filled with regret.

She was at his home, locked securely away. In his earlier days, he had made their home his own, believing that keeping them in their own environment added a bit more vitality to his activities. Their homes were places associated with security and safety. To be held hostage in your home gave a little extra emotional pain, which always improved a performance. Sometimes he’d watch their expressions and secretly laugh at the hope he saw in their faces. They were thinking that once their part was over, he’d leave them there, allowing them to get back to their safe, mundane world. Then, as each act became increasingly uncomfortable for them, he’d see that hope dwindling away like the slow drip of a faucet. The instant he saw the hope completely gone, he would revel in his power. Hope was a human condition—a failing. When it disappeared, perfection was almost complete.

When he began his activities in London, performing in their homes hadn’t been necessary. His own grand mansion provided all the accoutrements necessary. And when it was time for them to leave, he’d had plenty of interesting places to play out their swan song.

Was there a point to holding on to this blonde-haired, green-eyed person? Was he keeping her out of stubbornness or a petty indulgence? She was just so different from all the others he hadn’t even embarked on her training. Should he discard her and find someone more suitable?

At that thought, he felt resistance. He had learned to listen to his instincts. Perhaps his muse was leading him in a different direction. There was a reason he had chosen her, a reason she was different. He just didn’t know why yet. Once he did, he was sure he would be back to his old self.

While he waited for that insight to appear, he would continue to hunt. His home was a fortress. She would be perfectly safe there. Nestled within a small community outside the city, no one would ever suspect such a staid, unassuming mansion was home to some of the most delightful performances ever created—such a pity he couldn’t share those with everyone. That was the biggest reason he had to make their last performance so memorable. The world had to see what they had been missing.

Despite the convenience of being close to home, he would soon have to change his hunting grounds. He wasn’t stupid. While he looked for his next treasure, others were hunting him.

He’d read numerous reports about his activities. Suppositions of why he did what he did. Everyone seemed to have a theory and none of them were right. He was in equal parts amused and insulted by their prosaic ideas. How dare they try to pigeonhole his genius into some sort of mundane explanation! The instant his methods were targeted, he changed his role. He was a chameleon, able to change with almost no effort. He had limitless talent, which was the very reason he had eluded authorities for years. They believed he had only begun a year ago. What imbeciles. Did they not realize this kind of genius took years to perfect?

The time had come to abandon London. Only one question remained. Would he discover the reason he’d taken his newest gem before he had to leave? If not, should he discard her or allow her to travel with him?

Crossing the street, engrossed in the possible problems involved in traveling with an unwilling companion, he paid little attention to his location until the titillating words of a song hit his ears. “Come and get me. I know you want me. I’m yours for the taking. Come on…come on…come on. Come on, baby, come and get me.”

He jerked to a stop and gazed around. Though he had yet to acquire anything from this particular establishment, the surrounding area was one of his favorites to roam. Up and down the street, on both sides, were delicious places to prowl in hopes of finding the combination he required. Beauty and talent were hard to come by these days. Too many women relied on their looks alone. Beauty could only get one so far. That was the reason he’d had to try out so many.

The song continued, the words enticing him to investigate. He took three steps backward and peered into the dimly lit club. He’d been inside a couple of times…nothing had ever called to him before. But now he was enthralled as he listened to a song that spoke volumes about his needs, almost as if she were talking directly to him.

As he entered Club Drago, his heart pounded with exhilaration and triumph. Even when he hadn’t been consciously looking for her, she had found him with her music. Happiness drenched his soul as he looked upon his future. She was perfect in every way…exactly as he’d always dreamed.

He watched in awe as she danced for him and no one else. Her exquisite body called to him as the song continued, telling him to take her, that she was meant for him. She undulated, twisted and swayed, as seductive as a siren. A temptress like none other. This was the one. Within the depths of his soul, he knew she was meant for him—wanted to be with him.

A disruption drew his attention away. Two unruly men were trying to touch what was his. Fury enveloped him. She was meant for him and no other. Thankfully, two large bouncers dispatched them quickly. Relieved, he turned his rapt gaze back to the mesmerizing creature on stage.

When the music ended, he gasped out a rush of air, unaware that he had been holding his breath. Temptation warred with practicality. He wanted her now, immediately. Thankfully his rational side took control. Just because she called out to him didn’t mean others would understand their connection. Wearing only black panties and black boots, she turned and pranced off the stage. An ache tore at his heart as he watched her disappear from his view.

Soon she would perform for him in private. He would get to know her, learn her ways and then, if she were truly as talented as she seemed, Dark Angel would become his for eternity.





Chapter Eleven

“Good show tonight, Love. You’ve really hit your stride.”

Angela dressed, smiling her thanks as another compliment came her way. Ten performances in five days and she had definitely hit her stride. She was also beyond exhausted.

Tomorrow, when all the other regulars took off, she would perform again. She had never considered the physical toll of dancing twice a night. She had a feeling her weariness came from a combination of things. It was both mentally and physically exhausting to dance and strip in a roomful of strangers. Though she had been able to separate herself somewhat from the audience, she was still aware of them. Added to that was the knowledge that one of them might well be a serial killer and that should be enough for anyone. But there was more. Jake. Dancing for him gave her an opportunity to show him her feelings but what good did that do, really? He was looking for a killer, not an opportunity to get turned on.

Having Riley and Justin in the club actually added a bit of comfort, lessening the stress. Even though they had no interaction with each other, she saw them every night, going about performing their undercover jobs. Just knowing they were in the club made her feel less alone.

Since that first night, they had established a schedule of sorts. After her last performance, she would leave the club. She never deviated from the routine knowing that if the killer was watching, a different behavior might deter him.

Walking late at night, seemingly alone, on the streets of London, one would think something interesting or odd would happen. So far, the only unusual event had been two nights ago when an owl had swooped out of the sky into her path, startling her. Other than that, her lonely sojourn back to her apartment was done in relative peace.