Page 108 of Twilight Destiny

“No! Get out of my head, damn you! You’re dead! Dead!”

Luca’s laughter echoed in his mind.You can’t kill me. You’re weak and soon you’ll be mine. You want to kill her, Paul, you know you do. Only then will you be a man.

Paul drained the last of the whiskey and hurled the bottle into the fireplace. Staggering slightly, he picked up the pistol lying on the coffee table. It nestled in his hand, promising an end to the malevolent voice in his mind.

“I know how to get rid of you,” he said.

Don’t be a fool.

“Scared now, are you, you vile creature? One shot and you’ll be gone.” Muttering, “Forgive me, Nancy, it’s the only way to save you and the kids,” he lifted the gun barrel to his temple and curled his finger around the trigger.

Chapter Forty-Five

Kincaid raised his hand to knock on the cabin door when the report of a gunshot echoed from inside.

“We may be too late,” Saintcrow remarked.

“Maybe he solved the problem for us,” Kincaid said, trying the door.

It was unlocked.

Kincaid pushed it open and glanced inside, expecting to find Rhinehart’s body on the floor. Instead, the man was standing in front of the fireplace, a Glock in his hand. Smoke curled from the barrel.

Rhinehart looked up, his face pale. “Coward that I am, I couldn’t do it. How did you find me?”

“Your wife advised us to look here,” Kincaid replied.

“What do you want?”

“The same thing you do,” Saintcrow said. “To get rid of Luca once and for all.”

“He won’t leave me alone,” Rhinehart said, his voice ragged and filled with despair. “He troubles me day and night, telling me my Nancy is unfaithful, that Becky isn’t mine, that I should kill them both. That I should kill them all.”

“We’d like to help,” Kincaid said.

“Why?” Rhinehart asked, and then his eyes widened with comprehension. “You don’t want to help. You want to kill me in hopes it will kill Luca! You’re afraid he’ll use me to destroy you!”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Kincaid admitted with a shrug.

Rhinehart lifted the gun and leveled it at the vampire.

“Don’t be a damn fool,” Kincaid snarled. “I can break your neck before you pull the trigger.”

“If only you could. But you can’t come in.”

“Rhinehart.”

The hunter froze at the power in Saintcrow’s voice, power that left him motionless, helpless.

“Put the gun down and invite us in.”

Moving like a zombie, Rhinehart stooped down and placed the Glock on the floor. “Saintcrow, Kincaid, come in,” he said woodenly.

“Kincaid, get the gun,” Saintcrow said. Crossing the threshold, he took hold of Rhinehart’s arm.

“What now?” Kincaid asked, tucking the pistol in the waistband of his jeans.

“We need to find a place to keep him where he can’t do any harm until we figure out a solution.”

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