Angel Eyes

By Jaycee Clark

He searches, waits and watches for the perfect one...

Psychic, Cora O’Donnell doesn’t care what the majority of people think about her. Her new age shop, Mystic Moons, is successful and now dark, strange dreams keeping her busy. Rogan Duran, ex-military, is tracking a killer he swore he’d find if it took him the rest of his life. What he doesn’t plan on, is a woman he thinks is weird. Rogan tells himself he’s just sticking around to keep Cora safe. Cora doesn’t want anything to do with the know-it-all, she just wants her peace back, and no amount of yoga is giving it to her. But she can’t argue with one fact. There is a killer out there and not only can she sense him, she’s got what he wants....eyes a pale hypnotic blue. She knows sooner or later she’ll be the next woman the killer goes after...

The one with Angel Eyes...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaycee Clark
• Release date: Jul 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781625010933

Book preview

About Angel Eyes

He searches, waits and watches for the perfect one…

Psychic, Cora O’Donnell doesn’t care what the majority of people think about her. Her new age shop, Mystic Moons, is successful and now dark, strange dreams keeping her busy. Rogan Duran, ex-military, is tracking a killer he swore he’d find if it took him the rest of his life. What he doesn’t plan on, is a woman he thinks is weird. Rogan tells himself he’s just sticking around to keep Cora safe. Cora doesn’t want anything to do with the know-it-all, she just wants her peace back, and no amount of yoga is giving it to her. But she can’t argue with one fact. There is a killer out there and not only can she sense him, she’s got what he wants….eyes a pale hypnotic blue. She knows sooner or later she’ll be the next woman the killer goes after…

The one with Angel Eyes…

Also by Jaycee Clark

Ghost Cats: Retribution

The Dead Tell

The Deadly (Kinncaid Brothers) Series

Deadly Shadows

Deadly Ties

Deadly Obsession

Deadly Games

Deadly Secrets

Acknowledgment

I have to thank Bobby and Kit for answering bike related questions. Also a huge thanks to Monte of Perks Coffee Bar for letting me camp out for hours on end so I could write this book, and for supplying me with coffee.

Dedication

I have to thank my family for always believing in me. I dedicate this book to the eccentric souls of the world.

Prologue

Her eyes, those pale eyes, the purest blue of folded snow watched him. Her mouth moved, or tried to, behind the tape. He wondered what she wanted to tell him. Probably beg, plead. They all did. It was rather boring at times.

But then, he loved it. Boring or not, aggravating or not, it was what he waited for. What he longed for. The pleading, the begging, the hope.

Do you know how much fun we’re going to have? He leaned down and softly kissed her cheek. She moaned.

Her long body was stretched out for him, hands and feet bound at different posts on the stripped bed. A naked sacrifice.

An angel. Just for him.

The classical strings of Beethoven strained against the air, just as the woman did against her bonds. For some reason, the music annoyed him. He should have chosen a different piece, a different disc, but, it was too late for that. His schedule would be thrown off if he stopped just to select different music. This one loved Beethoven, so it only seemed fitting she should get to listen to it.

Besides, the music was moody, impressionable.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, to run down into her red hairline.

She knew better than to shut her eyes when he was with her. He taught her that the first day.

He leaned over and grazed his finger over her right top eyelid, which was now missing several eyelashes. The tape is never pleasant is it? He’d taped her eyes open when she refused to watch him. They always learned after the tape. He no longer had that problem with the bitch.

He breathed deep and let the moment flow into him, around him, become him. He laughed. I want to show you something.

He walked over the concrete floor, his shoes, the scrub booties he had over the tops, whispering along the cement. You’re not the first you know. He stopped in front of an armoire, its cherry doors slightly scarred and scuffed. Do you want to know what is in here? He watched her, waited.

She shook her head from side to side.

Oh come. You know you want to know. Just a bit curious?

This time she merely stared at him, again, her chin moving, but no intelligible sounds came from behind the tape.

Well, I’ll show you anyway. Makes what’s to come so much more… He opened the armoire to allow her to see, Enjoyable, he finished, watching her.

For a minute, she frowned. He glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. Oh, I forgot. Sorry. He loved toying with them. He flicked the switch that brightened the interior of the armoire. Light reflected down on glass jars. He watched her carefully and knew the moment she knew what she saw.

Her eyes widened, then slowly turned to him with terror in the pale depths.

I know, isn’t it wonderful? All the angels here with me. All these pretties to watch over me. He motioned to the jars, which contained the eyeballs of those before her.

He tapped an empty space. Right here is where you’ll be. Do you like the spot?

Now the fun began.

One.

She shook her head.

Two.

She blinked and tried to say something again.

Three.

She struggled against the silk ropes that bound her. So much fun.

You can’t get away, Angel Eyes. No one ever does.

Her moans and whimpers filled the small space of the converted basement. His heartbeat thrummed, pounding the blood in his ears as he slowly stripped down. Isn’t it interesting?

When he was naked, he strode to the bed. Shhh, he told her, caressing her hair back from her face. He leaned down and climbed onto the bed, whispering in her ear. You know what my favorite part is?

Her head shook from side to side and still she struggled, moaning behind the tape.

My favorite part is when you try so hard to get away, even when I’m inside you. The moment you die, when all the muscles in your body clench… He sighed, slipped on a condom and smiled. I love that part.

Just as he surged inside her tight, resisting body, she screamed.

Chapter One

She awoke with the scream still trapped in her throat. Cora gasped for breath, cold with sweat and trembling.

God, not another one. She hated dreams like that, dreams so real she could all but taste the terror, thick and dark, swirling around the air, bitter and elusive.

Cora tried to erase the images from her head even as she knew it was useless. Useless and empty, but still she tried.

That poor woman. Cora stood, not surprised when her legs threatened to give out on her.

A knock on her door made her jump. Her heart slammed against her ribs, blood pounding in her ears with the fist on her door.

Cora!

She watched as the doorknob rattled. Cora!

Taking a deep breath, she stumbled to the door and unlocked it. It swung open from a force on the other side and she fell back against the wall.

Kyle stood, glaring at her. What the hell, woman? She blinked.

His green eyes narrowed. What? Hey, whoa. You’re not about to pass out on me are you? He quickly wrapped an arm around her and led her to her bed. You screamed to wake the dead. I haven’t jolted like that since Mrs. Kovoski down the hall decided to take aim at Old Man Hollerman when he made a pass at her. He glanced around her room. No boogie men are there? I’m not really into those, you know.

She smiled and managed to shake her head. She sank back on her bed and closed her eyes, exhaling.

Kyle huffed. I swear, you don’t take care of yourself. I keep telling you, you really need to eat better. I shudder at half the stuff you put into your system and that’s just what I know about. Hanson makes the best breakfast. It’s a good thing he’s here tonight. You’re eating in the morning, or rather later this morning.

At the mention of her roommate’s longtime boyfriend, she glanced to the doorway to see Hanson staring at her with narrowed eyes. He had on a pair of jeans and his muscular torso and arms were the stuff of many a woman’s fantasy. Not to mention the dark blond hair and the heavy lidded brown eyes. He had that Italian model look to him and she could never quite figure out if she thought him too damn handsome for words, or too pretty for her peace of mind. Damn shame the man was gay, but he and Kyle were happy.

She wasn’t happy, but that was hardly here or there.

Hanson left the doorway and she heard him in the bathroom, the faucet turn on, the clink of a glass. He returned with a wet cloth and a glass of water. You look like you could use this.

Hanson’s voice was deep timbered, very male and one of the things she knew Kyle found sexy about his partner.

Cora closed her eyes and exhaled, sipping the water and running the rag over her face.

In her mind, she kept seeing those jars, all those jars lined on the shelf. Eyes staring out, pale blue suspended and floating in liquid.

She shuddered. Oh God.

Kyle sat beside her and brushed her hair back. That bad was it? Want to talk about it?

She and Kyle had been best friends since childhood. They’d roomed together in college and continued rooming together until she moved away and started her own life. When she moved here two years ago, she looked him up for dinner. He’d wanted a roommate to supplement the income. So here she was.

Instead of answering him, she patted his leg. Thanks for coming to wake me.

You and your nightmares. He sighed. I wish there was more I could do. You always had nightmares that left the hair standing up. She knew her nightmares bothered Kyle. She still remembered how she freaked him out when they were in college and several girls went missing. The memory was not one she wanted to dwell on. That incident, though, had forced her to confide in Kyle that sometimes she saw things. And now thanks to Hollywood everyone expected her to say she saw dead people.

She didn’t see dead people. No, just their floating eyes, or she saw the women being killed.

She fisted her hands, feeling drained. I’m sorry I woke you.

He sighed, gave her a quick squeeze and stood. Well that means good night and you’re not going to talk about it. Almost to the door, he said, Stubborn woman. He paused and looked back at her. Handsome with short black hair and green eyes, the smile on his face always tipped the scales to charming. Now, however, no dimples peeked at her, only concern furrowed his brow. "You will eat in the morning. I’ll ask Hanson to fix up his omelets."

The thought of food rolled her stomach, but she smiled. As he closed the door, she reached over and flipped off the light. Light or dark, it didn’t really matter. For her the fear was in her mind, from people she couldn’t always see, but felt. For her, terror was in sleep.

She stared at the ceiling, watching the play of light and shadows.

Angel Eyes.

The woman had pale blue eyes.

Cora O’Donnell didn’t need to look in the mirror to see her own eyes. She knew the color.

Angel blue, her grandmother had called it. Angel blue…

Chapter Two

Rogan Duran stared down into his beer and felt sorry for himself. That pissed him off. He made it a point to never feel sorry for himself, but it was the truth, his life was shit.

Once he’d been a war hero, following orders that were never reported, because technically the missions under several joint special ops forces, had never happened. There were no records. Or there probably were in some vaulted, secure place that he would never see.

That was all before. Before the mission gone wrong, which had landed him in the infirmary, followed by his reassignment to the Army’s Criminal Investigative Unit.

Before Ginger, before the nightmare, before the investigation.

He sat and listened to the activity happening in the bar. Leo’s, a cop hang out, was in Maryland on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. The air was thick with squawking radios, men and women rehashing the day’s events and cursing the turnaround of the justice system. The dark wood interior, scarred tables and green vinyl had probably never been changed. It was all as normal to him as breathing, as familiar as the smell of grilling burgers and beer.

He sighed and took another sip of his dark ale. He must be getting old. Anymore, beer left a bad taste in his mouth. He motioned to the waitress and ordered a cup of coffee while he waited to meet his friend, Detective Clayton Whitesell. He’d met the man two years ago after he’d been discharged. They’d hit it off, in this very bar and had been friends of sorts ever since.

Clayton worked the homicide unit and Rogan freelanced and worked for the Washington Post. He covered the military stories.

To be perfectly honest, he was bored out of his mind. His heart wasn’t in it and he half ass did the job. He was simply used to more.

He wanted more. He needed more.

But that wasn’t to be. At least not at present.

Man, I gave up a date for this? A hand slapped him on the shoulder.

Rogan looked up and shrugged his friend’s hand off.

Rogan studied Clayton as the man sat opposite him. The detective’s salt and peppered hair was worn longer than most of his contemporaries thought fashionable and most of the younger rookies would have called fashionable. The mustache, also salt and peppered, gave the cop a rather criminal look, or maybe it was just the hard green eyes.

I didn’t ask you to give up your date, Rogan said, smiling as the waitress set his coffee in front of him.

Clayton ordered the same.

What are you working on? Clayton slid the saltshaker over the scarred, varnished wood of the tabletop.

Nothing worth talking about, why?

Clayton shifted. You going on assignment any time soon?

Do I need to?

Technically Rogan was a reporter now, not a military investigator, but the two had…bonded, for lack of a better word.

Clayton sighed. You and I talked about your case, about the missing girls.

For a moment, Rogan didn’t say anything. He had told Clayton of what led to his discharge, of the nightmare he’d found himself in and never had awakened from.

Missing girls…

And women, Rogan muttered.

Clayton’s green eyes narrowed. "Do you want to have the investigation reopened on you? I’m trying to help here."

A tingle of apprehension walked its cold fingers down Rogan’s spine. He didn’t move, didn’t twitch. Instead he looked across the table at one of the few men he’d ever call if he were in trouble.

What are you here for, Clayton? Why did you call for this meeting?

Clayton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. A woman who was reported missing from a county in the western part of the state a year or so ago—her body was found yesterday.

The tingle became a squad marching down his backbone. And? His heart thrummed in his chest, knowing what he’d hear before Clayton told him.

She’s like the others. Pleasant, nice from all accounts, knew people, no variation from her routine before, poof. She’s gone.

Rogan sipped his coffee, wishing he’d kept his beer. People vanish every day, Clayton.

Clayton leaned back as the waitress returned with his coffee. Yes, but it’s not every day the missing person is a woman with pale, freaky blue eyes.

Freaky… Rogan smiled in spite of himself. Pale blue eyes…he supposed some might see them as odd or freakish. He never had. He’d loved that color, which had always reminded him of the purest glacier, where ice met water.

The memory of Ginger’s eyes, as she laughed at something he’d said, flashed in his mind.

Damn, he finally said, and drank the rest of his bitter coffee down.

Yes, that’s it in a word.

Can you tell me any more? He ran a hand over his Henley, suddenly wishing he’d put this meeting off, wishing he’d moved across the country instead of staying on his own quest.

Not at this time. Just thought you might want to know since… Clayton trailed off. Well, since things with you are as they are.

Rogan shook his head and wished… What?

Anger beat in him. He knew Ginger was dead, he’d known from the beginning. He’d known when she hadn’t come home after two days, and then Colonel McClafferty had shown up on his doorstep there

Reviews for Angel Eyes

[jjmachshev_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

And yet another spooky romantic suspense from Jaycee Clark. She's quickly becoming a favorite of mine, especially if you like your villains on the truly evil side!Cora's always been a bit different, and a bit psychic. Some of her dreams seem to come true. But then there are 'those' dreams--they only come every so often, and the one time she tried to take action and help...it really backfired on her and almost caused her to doubt herself. But now 'those' dreams are back and more frightening than ever, because they are about a killer who kidnaps and tortures women, kills them during sex, and then cuts out and keeps their eyes! And the scariest part? All those women have light blue 'angel eyes'...and so does Cora!Rogan is ex-special ops and still on the trail of a killer who ruined his life. It took him a long time to clear his name and even now there are those who think he just 'got off' and wasn't really innocent. After all, he was the last one seen with his girlfriend...she of the light blue eyes. Now he's found Cora and for some reason, those instincts of his are telling him to stay close...maybe a little too close?Spooky, scary, and will get your heart rate up! Another excellent read from Ms. Clark.