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Chapter 4

The next morning Alexandra was still unsure if what she’d seen had been real or some sort of twisted dream. She’d decided to keep the experience to herself, at least until her 7:00 p.m. appointment with Dr. Peters. Instead of dwelling on it, she poured herself into her work. The story on the mysterious Hyde Park fires still needed to be finished.

She sat behind her desk and began sifting through the countless photographs and notes that she’d collected over the past two weeks. Her mind immediately began to race, its performance no doubt fueled by last night’s events. Images and words began to flash within her thoughts. She snatched a pen from her desk and began scribbling down everything she saw.

Alexandra was about to leave her desk to follow the leads she’d obtained from the photographs when her attention was drawn to the plasma TV, mounted on the wall, that broadcasted the news during the day.

“In Pennsylvania, the body of a female was discovered in an abandoned building early yesterday morning.” The reporter spoke somberly. “The partially decomposed corpse has been identified as twenty-seven-year-old Trish Gooding, who has been missing since last Tuesday. This murder brings the count to three within the Union City area, and detectives have concluded that it is the work of the Penn State Serial Killer.”

Alexandra’s heart felt heavy. She didn’t understand how an individual could be so callous as to regard human life as nothing but a tool for his amusement. How could a man’s conscience allow him to snatch a young woman from her home, rape her, torture her and kill her?

She was about to turn to go when an image on the TV made her pause. A photograph of a young girl.

“In other news, twelve-year-old Mady Halman went missing on Friday evening,” came the reporter’s voice. “She was last seen a few blocks from her home in the South Bronx area.”

Alexandra froze as blurry images flashed before her eyes. The reporter’s words were lost in the heavy drumming of blood rushing to her brain. She could see Mady, walking in the park. A tall man, his face obscured by a hooded sweatshirt, talking to her. Taking her. Then darkness. Blood. Pain. A young girl’s screams. Then the uncanny image of Trish Gooding, fleeing for her life.

Alexandra gasped as she came abruptly back to the present. She was shaking and the breath had been snatched from her lungs.

It was as if she’d been standing right there, watching it all take place. She’d felt the child’s pain. Mady was alone, crying for her mother and receiving only silence in return. The Penn State Serial Killer had kidnapped that child, and he was going to kill her.

Alexandra knew what she had to do. She couldn’t wait for her certainty to be confirmed. If there was a chance to save that little girl, then she was willing to take it. She hadn’t been able to save her own parents, but she’d do everything in her power to save this little girl.

With hardened resolve, she headed toward the editor in chief’s office.

“Come in!” came Mr. O’Reily’s reply following her knock.

Alexandra entered to find him perusing a pile of articles on his desk. He shot her a quick glance over the rim of his glasses. “Barret, what can I do for you?” he asked.

She braced her hands on his desk and fixed him with a determined look. “I want the Mady Halman story.”

“That’s breaking news, not a feature. And I assigned that one to Thomas already.” He refused her without taking his eyes from his work.

“Then reassign it. I want it.”

He looked up then, his eyes narrowing. Alexandra knew that her behavior was out of character, for she’d never made a fuss about getting any particular project.

He reclined in his chair. “Are you done with the feature on the victims of the Hyde Park fires?”

“Well, no, but I’ll finish it before the end of the month. I just want this story.”

“I can’t have you working two stories at once and I need that Hyde Park article completed by Wednesday,” he told her firmly.

Alexandra sighed in exasperation. “Look, I’ll get it done and have it on your desk by tomorrow if I need to. Just give me a chance. I need to do this.”

His eyes focused on her. After what seemed like an eternity of silent assessment, he nodded. “Fine, but if you don’t have the Hyde Park article on my desk by Wednesday morning, I’m pulling you out.”

She nodded with a smile. “Thank you, sir.” All she needed was enough time to locate Mady.

“You’re not crazy, Alexandra,” Dr. Peters said from behind his desk. “You were just hallucinating because you overdosed on the medication I ordered.”

Alexandra frowned up at the ceiling. “It all seemed so real.” She was curled up on a leather chair with her shoes off.

“That’s what hallucinations are like,” Dr. Peters continued. “It’s very hard to distinguish one from reality. What you shouldn’t have done was taken that additional tablet.”

“I know,” she groaned. “But lately my nightmares have become so vivid. I can’t seem to get enough sleep.”

“I understand that, but what you did was very dangerous. You should’ve simply come to me,” he scolded.

With a sigh, Alexandra looked at him. He was a small man in his early sixties and he wore wire-rimmed glasses that made him look like an owl.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “But I still don’t undertand how taking one extra tablet could cause me to visualize something like that. I mean, I usually dream of castles and fire. So, why am I hallucinating about this creature?”

The doctor clasped his fingers together on his desk. “There is a logical reason for that, I’m sure.”

She sat up. “Like what?”

“Well, if you consider all the hype surrounding the recent Central Park sightings of a mystery creature and your proximity to that location, I daresay that you’re transferring suppressed fear into imagery,” he said.

Alexandra thought for a moment. It sounded logical, except that she entertained no fear where the mysterious Central Park sightings were concerned. She respected Dr. Peters’s opinions, but there was no way she was going to allow him to inject emotions into her mind. If she’d been hallucinating, it was definitely not due to fear. “And what about the orgasm?” she asked.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Well, what you experienced is actually quite common in both men and women. It’s called a nocturnal orgasm or better known as a wet dream.”

When she fixed him with a look of skepticism, he continued. “Alexandra, you must understand something. The mind is very influential. If you believe something is happening to you, then naturally your body will respond. So, having an orgasm during a dream or hallucination isn’t unheard-of.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she sat there in a con templative trance as her thoughts returned to the previous night. Dr. Peters was a wise man and everything he said seemed to make sense, yet she couldn’t bring herself to believe that what she’d seen had been only a figment of her imagination. There were just too many indications that something or someone had indeed visited her during the night.

Dr. Peters stood and came to the front of his desk. “Alexandra, you really must try to forget this,” he said as he seated himself on the lacquered oak finish. “I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no, you’re not crazy. I’m certain it was the overdose that initiated this experience.” When she turned attentive eyes on him, he continued. “What you need now is a warm bath and some rest and I promise you, as long as you follow my instructions, you’ll be fine.”

Dr. Peters’s words replayed in Alexandra’s mind as she stepped out of the taxi. He was right; the idea of what she’d seen was a little farfetched. This was New York City and strange things happened every day, but to think that there was a creature out there that visited lonely women in their beds at night was preposterous.

She glanced at her watch. It was 9:00 p.m. already and the dark streets appeared all but deserted. She reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a file and flipped to the address page. Mady Halman’s picture greeted her, the girl’s sweet smile and innocent eyes tugging at her heart.

“I’m going to find you,” Alexandra promised softly as she replaced the file in her bag.

She shot a glance about her. The South Bronx definitely wasn’t the kind of place she wanted to frequent. Rows of identical, graffiti-covered apartment complexes lined both sides of the street and garbage littered the sidewalk.

She entered the building where Mady lived and was met by a foyer that reeked of urine and marijuana. She made her way up the dimly lit stairway, skipping over soda cans and cigarette butts. Somewhere on the first floor a door slammed and she could hear shouting. A baby started crying.

Alexandra’s heart pounded. She’d only seen places like this in movies and on the news, but she knew exactly the sort of riffraff that frequented them. She quickly counted the numbers on the apartment doors until she found the one she was looking for.

She knocked softly and a moment later the muffled voice of a woman greeted her.

“Who’s there?”

Alexandra focused on the peephole, for she was certain she was being observed from the other end. “Hi. I’m looking for Ms. Veronica Halman. I would like to speak with her concerning her daughter’s dis appearance.”

There was a brief silence, then the sound of a set of locks being released. The door opened a crack and a woman looked out from behind the chain.

“I’m Veronica Halman. Who’re you?” She was a middle-aged woman with a humble face that was etched with lines of grief.

Alexandra offered her a smile. “I’m Alexandra Barret. I’m a reporter for the Daily Sun. I just need a few minutes of your time, please.”

Her request was met by a look of exasperation. “Another reporter? I’m not doing anymore interviews. I’ve talked with so many people already, and no one has any idea what happened to my baby. So please, if you’re not here with something to tell me, then leave.”

She was about to close the door, but Alexandra placed a palm against it, stalling her effort. “Please, Ms. Halman. I only need to talk to you for a few minutes. I can help you,” she pleaded. “I can help you find Mady.”

She tried to appear confident, but inside fear and uncertainty dominated her. Making promises based solely on her visions was terrifying and guilt in spiring.

Ms. Halman eased the door open a measure. “Help me how?”

Alexandra wasn’t certain if she should reveal that she possessed a psychic ability that only of late seemed to be getting stronger. Most people didn’t believe in such things and now that she’d gained Ms. Halman’s attention, she didn’t want to risk losing it. But what other choice did she have?

“I’m … a psychic. I’ve seen Mady in a vision,” Alexandra responded. “She’s alive, and I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to see her returned safely home.”

A glint of hopefulness mingled with doubt reflected beyond the worry in the other woman’s eyes.

“Look,” Alexandra continued. “I know this isn’t something you hear every day, but I promise you, I’m authentic and everything you share with me will remain between us.”

Ms. Halman stared at her for a moment then eased the door shut. Alexandra could hear the chain being released and when the door reopened, Ms. Halman stood to one side and motioned for her to enter.

“Thank you,” Alexandra said as she slipped into the apartment.

The living room was small but neatly kept. A worn floral sofa was positioned against one wall, and on the other, a television set sat on a wooden stand. A toddler was seated in front of it, watching a cartoon show. He turned wide eyes on her and Alexandra sent him a smile as she stepped around him.

“You say you’ve seen her? Where is she?” Ms. Halman asked anxiously.

“I’m not sure, and that’s why I need your help,” Alexandra replied, noting the dark circles around the woman’s eyes. She wouldn’t dare mention that her vision had revealed Mady being taken by a man she suspected was the Penn State Serial Killer. Ms. Halman obviously had enough to contend with.

“Just tell me what to do. Please, have a seat.”

Alexandra complied as she removed a file and a small notepad from her purse. “I know this is hard for you, but please bear with me. I’m going to ask you a few questions. This information is important, so I need you to tell me everything you can. Is this the most recent picture you have of your daughter?” She slipped the photograph from the file.

When Ms. Halman nodded, she placed it on the table and continued. “I saw Mady walking. Where was she going?”

She cleared her throat. “It was Friday, around 4:30 p.m. Mady’d just finished her homework and she asked me if she could play with her friends in the park and I let her go alone.” She paused to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Which park? And what route did she take?”

“Brook Park. It’s only a few blocks from here, and we always take the main road. I usually walk with her, but her brother had a fever that day and I let her go alone.”

Alexandra knew what it was like to lose someone dear. “It’s not your fault,” she said empathetically. “Sometimes we don’t know when bad things are going to happen.”

“I’m her mother. I should’ve been protecting her.” She dabbed at her eyes again.

Alexandra fought the tears that burned her eyes. She saw herself in this woman, this mother. The pain she’d experienced when she’d lost her parents had been unbearable. She’d tormented herself, wondering what if. Yet no amount of wondering could have changed what had already taken place. This was different. Mady was still alive. She could feel it. And she knew that she could possibly prevent her murder.

“Ms. Halman, may I borrow an item that belongs to Mady, something dear to her?”

Curiosity registered in the woman’s eyes. “Something like what?”

“Anything that she loved.”

The other woman thought for a moment then nodded. She reached into the pocket of her housecoat, pulling out a gold charm bracelet. “I bought this for her on her twelfth birthday. She loves animals.” She passed it to Alexandra.

Accepting it, Alexandra noted that each little charm was shaped like an animal. “Thank you.”

Ms. Halman forced a smile, her eyes brimming with tears now. “The puppy is her favorite. I couldn’t afford a real one, so I was sure to get that charm attached.” She hung her head then, her body shaking as she sobbed silently.

Alexandra couldn’t help herself. She placed her notepad aside, slid toward the other woman and wrapped her arms around her. There were just no words to ease such a pain. All she could do was hope that she could keep her promise.

When Ms. Halman regained her composure, she sat up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just been so hard. I’ve always promised myself that I would do whatever it took to protect my children. That they’d never have to suffer through what I did.”

She met Alexandra’s questioning look. “Thirteen years ago I was working the night shift at a local diner. While walking home one morning, I was attacked and raped.” She looked away. “I became pregnant, and nine months later Mady was born. They never caught the guy. Somehow I managed to survive through it all. I even got married and had my son, though his father and I are separated now.”

Alexandra’s heart sank in her chest. She couldn’t imagine suffering through something like that. “I promise you, Ms. Halman, I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your daughter back,” she assured.

“Thank you.” She gave Alexandra’s hand a squeeze. “Please, excuse me for a moment.”

She stood and headed off toward what Alexandra assumed was the bathroom. She sat there, looking at the bracelet in her hands. Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to channel her mysterious ability. She didn’t really expect anything to happen, as she’d never been able to summon her visions, but it didn’t hurt to try. She didn’t notice the toddler moving toward her.

“Hi,” came his small voice.

Alexandra opened her eyes and a smile crept to her lips. “Hello. What’s your name?”

“Peter, and this is Muffy.” He held up a straggly, one-eyed stuffed rabbit.

“Well, hello to both of you.”

He smiled. “Are you the police?”

His question caught her by surprise. “Oh, no, I’m just … a helper.”

“Are you gonna bring Mady back?” He waited, his eyes wide with innocence and anticipation.

A great sadness tugged at Alexandra’s heart. With the police having no solid leads, she was the best hope for saving Mady. Her eyes fell once again to the charm bracelet in her grasp. “Yes, I’m going to bring Mady back.”

Chapter 5

Impatiently, Alexandra looked down the busy street, spotting the bright yellow hood of a cab making its way toward her. “Taxi!” she cried out, waving a hand.

The vehicle zipped by without even pausing. Two subsequent attempts rendered the same result. With a sigh she began walking up the street in search of a better location to catch a cab. She noticed a sign for Brook Park and decided that she’d stop there for a few minutes. Mady’s charm bracelet, which she’d fastened onto her wrist, hadn’t evoked any visions, but being in the location of the abduction just might stimulate her psychic ability.

And so she shrugged off her navy, pinstriped blazer that matched her knee-length pencil skirt, draped it over her arm and headed in that direction.

She’d only walked a short distance when an image a few feet in front of her forced her to slow her pace. It was the silhouette of a preteen girl, wreathed in an apparition-like glow. Instantly, Alexandra knew that she was having a vision, although she’d never had one quite this vivid before. Her guess was confirmed when the girl turned to look at her. Alexandra froze as vacant pools locked onto her. It was Mady Halman. Her face was impassive, yet Alexandra sensed a deep sadness that called out to her.

Mady turned then and began walking in the direction of the park. Regaining her composure, Alexandra fol lowed. After about a block, the image raced across the street, passing through the ongoing traffic, and Alexandra was forced to stop at the curb. From where she stood she could see Mady moving along the sidewalk. A van appeared then, and a man stepped out. The man from her vision.

Alexandra took a chance and wove her way through the traffic, but by the time she crossed the images were gone. She looked up and down the street and caught the tail end of the van turning a corner. Quickly, she raced in that direction, turning the corner and running halfway down the alley before she came to an abrupt halt. It was a dead end and there was no sign of Mady or the blue van.

“Hey, lady, can you spare some change?”

The voice startled Alexandra and she turned to face the man who’d spoken. He wasn’t alone. The three men who barred the entrance of the alley were tall and disreputable in appearance. They wore layers of dirty clothing, and she could smell their stench even from a few feet away.

“Sorry, I have no money,” she said, offering them a nervous smile. “I think I’ve made a wrong turn. If you gentlemen would excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said the shorter of the trio as he sidestepped to block her path. His tanned skin was covered with smudges of dirt and his straggly blond hair fell forward to shield half of his narrow face.

“Careful, Weasel,” another man spoke. “We don’t want to scare the little lady, now do we?” He was completely bald and his skin was as dark as midnight. He smiled, flashing yellow teeth.

The man called Weasel laughed. “I ain’t scaring her, Bubba. She just needs to do what we ask her to and she’ll be fine.”

The third man advanced a step and with a quick flip of his wrist, he produced a pocket knife. “And if she doesn’t, we’ll cut her!” He leered.

Alexandra’s heart drummed in her chest when the man holding the knife took another step toward her. He looked more forbidding than the others with his towering height, pale skin and the tattered patch he wore over his left eye. She shot a frantic look down the alley. Two solid walls of brick surrounded her on either side, and no doorways offered hope for help. The only way out was through them.

Bubba turned to the man on his left. “Put that thing away, Scratch. I’m sure we won’t need to do any harm. This little lady isn’t gonna give us no trouble, isn’t that right, missy?”

She took a step backward, clutching her studded saddlebag. “I told you before, I don’t have any money,” she said, trying to mask the slight tremor in her voice.

“I don’t have any money,” Weasel mocked in a distorted voice. “We heard you the first time, broad. We just don’t believe you. All dressed up in your fancy suit, smelling real good, and you expect us to believe you don’t have any cash? What are you, some kinda social worker or something? Well, I’ve got some special needs you can attend to.” He was moving closer now, circling her slowly.

Alexandra stiffened, holding her breath as his gaze traveled from her black wedges up her slender, stocking-clad legs to the smooth curve of her hips in the formfitting skirt, her narrow waist and the slightly revealing V-neck of her ruffled blouse.

When his eyes snapped back up to meet hers, he wore a sadistic grin. “Hand over your purse!”

Slowly, she slipped her designer handbag from her shoulder and passed it to him. She was shaking all over, for she knew that they would find nothing in it to appease their greed. She’d been in a rush to leave her apartment that morning, and she’d failed to pack her wallet. All she had was a MetroCard and a few dollars, barely enough for a taxi home.

Weasel snatched the purse from her and his accomplices gathered around to inspect their bounty. The zipper was yanked open and he rummaged through the pockets, discarding anything he thought useless. Her cherry lipstick, followed by her address book and then her notepad, hit the gravel. When he pulled out her mini tape recorder, he tossed it to Bubba, who held it up for inspection.

“I think we can get a few bucks for this,” Bubba commented.

Scratch leaned over to look at it, as well.

Alexandra was grateful for the diversion and she eased to the left as she calculated the distance to the main street. She could make a run for it. She would probably get caught, but at least she’d be near enough to scream and hope that someone would hear her.

Without a second thought, she swung her blazer over Weasel’s head and gave him a firm shove, sending him stumbling into the others.

Not even looking back, she raced toward the ongoing traffic as fast as her heels would allow. She heard an angry growl and then the heavy thud of footfalls behind her. In the next moment, a punishing hand grabbed her arm and she was yanked violently around. The sleeve of her blouse ripped and she was propelled to the right, where she slammed into the brick wall and fell to the ground.

Recovering quickly, she looked up to see Weasel tossing her shirt sleeve aside and storming toward her. She tried to scramble away, but was promptly blocked by a pair of long legs. Scratch stood above her, turning the knife around in his hand.

“I guess you don’t like your pretty face.” He sneered.

Weasel came to stand beside him. “I think we need to teach her a lesson.” He reached down to twist a lock of her hair about a grimy finger.

Alexandra tried to push his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

“Man, shut that bitch up!” Bubba, who was still rummaging through her purse, barked.

Scratch squatted next to her, bringing the knife dangerously close to her face. “Make another sound and I’ll cut you, I swear I will.”

His fetid odor engulfed her and she was forced to hold her breath. Her heart was racing. Only once before had she been so afraid, when she’d gotten the news of her parents’ deaths and she knew she was all alone in the world. Yet she’d survived that, and somehow she’d survive this.

With a laugh, Weasel grabbed her right arm and brought her wrist to his gaze. “Now ain’t this pretty,” he snarled as he snatched away the charm bracelet.

Alexandra sucked in her bottom lip to avoid crying out as the gold chain cut into her skin.

He held it up to the dim light. “I bet I could get a few bucks for this.” He bit into it before stuffing it into his pocket.

“Please,” Alexandra began softly as she tried to ignore the sharp point of the knife that hovered near her cheek. “That doesn’t belong to me. If you want money I can get some for you, but please, I need that bracelet.”

The two men near her erupted in laughter. Scratch traced the smooth edge of the knife against her jawline. “Did you hear that, Bubba? The broad is trying to bargain with us.” He laughed. “Says she’ll give us money if we give her back her bracelet.”

Bubba tossed Alexandra’s handbag aside. “What money? All she has in here is twelve bucks,” he said as he recounted the bills.

Weasel walked toward him. “Jeez, is that all?”

“Cell phone,” Bubba replied as he passed the lavender, rhinestone-encrusted object to him.

Left alone with Scratch, Alexandra turned frightened eyes onto him. He leered at her. He seemed to thrive on her fear.

“I bet you got some valuables under your clothes,” he said as he trailed the knife along her neckline. “There’s only one way to find out now, ain’t there?”

The tip of the blade slipped beneath the top button of her blouse and with a tug, it popped away. The upper half of her top fell open.

Alexandra’s breath caught when, with a grin, he positioned the knife under the second button. Desperation flared though her. She wasn’t about to sit still and allow this dirty bastard to violate her. She grabbed a handful of dirt and gravel and tossed it into his face.

The retaliation came as a surprise and Scratch fell over, screaming from the pain in his one good eye.

“The bitch tried to blind me!” he shouted, drawing the attention of his accomplices.

Alexandra was about to jump up and make a run for it when a loud thump came from somewhere at the rear of the alley. The earth beneath them vibrated and the lid of the big, rusty Dumpster slammed shut. All eyes turned toward the shadows.

“What was that?” Bubba asked.

Weasel shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

Using the wall for support, Alexandra stood slowly. She shot a glance to the exit of the alley and when she looked back the three men were approaching her.

Scratch, who was squinting, retrieved his knife from the ground. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, bitch!” he spat.

Another sound emerged from the rear of the alley, making them pause a second time. It was a low and ominous growling that was like nothing Alexandra had ever heard before.

“Man, what is that?” Bubba asked again.

The noise grew louder and a large figure loomed in the shadows.

Weasel took a step backward. “Maybe a dog,” he suggested nervously.

“Man, that ain’t no dog,” Scratch said.

“Then what is it?”

The dark figure flew from the ground into the shrouding darkness overhead, rattling the fire escape. Incredulously, Alexandra blinked her eyes. The thing had moved quickly, but the brief moment in the light had been enough for her to recognize it. And if she’d seen correctly, then the thing that stalked them was the very creature that had visited her the night before. But … how could it be? She’d been hallucinating, right?

Her three assailants stumbled backward with their gazes turned to the sky. “Where’d it go?” Weasel shouted.

“I don’t know,” Bubba replied as he pulled a short knife from his pocket. “But if it comes down here, it’s gonna get what it’s looking for.”

Scratch kicked angrily at the gravel. “Come out!” he taunted. “Show yourself so I can cut your throat!”

Before the last word spilled from his lips, loud vibrations from the fire escape echoed through the air and the shadow sprang forward, disappearing again into the overhead darkness.

Weasel retreated a few paces. “What the hell!” His eyes were wide and fear danced within them. “Did you guys see what I just saw? That thing has wings!”

The low, guttural growls persisted and in the next moment, the creature leaped from the shadows, coming to land before them in a huddled position. Slowly, it rose like a demon emerging from the pits of hell, its wings spanning a full length of about twelve feet, its long tail slashing the night air.

Alexandra stood frozen with her back pressed against the wall. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The creature was just as she remembered him, tall, powerful and beautiful. For an instant, his transfixing eyes set upon her and a shudder racked her body. Hours ago those penetrating eyes had draped her with lust and blazing desire. Hours ago he’d spread her thighs wide and tasted the very core of her womanhood, when she’d shuddered with a climatic release that would’ve put a wanton to shame.

A scorching heat made its way up her legs and down her breasts, coming to unite in that soft place between her thighs.

Her present danger was forgotten and all she could think was that the creature was real—flesh and blood and not a figment of her imagination!

Marius flexed his wings, assessing the situation.

The three men stumbled backward another step. “Hey, it’s too early for Halloween!” The one called Scratch sneered.

“Man, I don’t think that’s a costume,” Bubba said as he and Weasel staggered away another few paces.

“Oh, yeah? Well, watch me cut that ugly mask off his face!” Scratch poised himself for a fight, his fingers flexing over the handle of the knife. “C’mon, you weirdo freak!”