Angel Eyes - Angel Eyes Part 10
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Angel Eyes Part 10

"Yes, as in this case."

"What do you know about these disappearances?" Mesler asked, taking out a pad.

Cora sighed and grabbed a small, blue tealight candle, lighting it and setting it inside the new globe. "I don't. Not much. I'm not sure where he gets them, what they look like, not really. What I do know is he has them, he wants them, he needs them, or thinks he does." She looked down at the candle flame. "So many," she whispered.

"Can you sit down and tell us all about the dreams? The details?" Palacios asked.

She jerked her gaze from the dancing fire to look back at the detective. "Why the sudden interest?"

His gray eyes held hers. "Because a woman from Flagstaff was reported missing this morning. No one has heard from her in three days."

Cora just looked at him.

Palacios continued. "And after learning that, we ran the eye color through the data base and several have never turned up. Just vanished. Two in the state of Arizona in the last three months."

Chills pricked her skin and Cora could only look at him. The cold that stalked her closed in and whispered a warning.

Chapter Twelve.

He smiled as he read the morning paper online. Someone reported her missing, had they? Poor, stupid souls.

He scanned the article and knew they had no leads, no anything.

They never, ever did. He was the one always in control. Always in the know.

He opened another file.

Cora O'Donnell. Pretty, all things considered.

And the fact that there was an added bonus...

He smiled.

Her eyes called to him, but this time would be different. He felt it, knew it. Something about her was going to be a turning point for him.

He closed his eyes and thought of her yet again. The way the flowing skirts she often wore breezed around her ankles. She painted her toenails, and wore toe-rings. Yet she wasn't flashy or overdone as many were these days.

Her light, wavy hair was always natural, her face more often without make-up than with.

And her eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. So blue, so pale, so true.

He wondered, just for a moment, if she knew, if she suspected?

Since coming here, she'd been in his mind, though he tried to ignore her. He usually made it a point not to find his angels right where he lived. It made things...complicated, but in her case...

She was simply too perfect. He'd tried to ignore her, but couldn't. He could only watch her, think of her.

Hell the last woman he wished was Cora. He'd fantasized it was her face, her body.

The thought brought his attention to the newest jar gracing his shelf. The kill no longer held the appeal it once did. It seemed lately he was searching, but for what he knew not. The unrest in him was so often appeased with the hunt itself, the search, the find and finally the kill. The keepsakes were his, a commemoration, but special because the angels still watched over him.

Where before Cora merely caught his attention, now he found he could not get her out of his mind. He wanted her.

And he'd have her.

He smiled and leaned back, remembering the elation, the rush...

In time he'd feel that again.

Cora looked at the dress. Lake held it, smiling and still yawning. It wasn't even five o'clock yet, but they'd closed shop early for what Lake termed this momentous occasion.

"I'm not wearing that."

The little blue and silver piece was just that, a piece of material. There was hardly much to it and what there was, left very little to the imagination. "What do you do, shop online at Sluts R Us?" Cora asked.

Lake turned the dress to look at it. "No, this baby I got from screwmenow.com. It's become my favorite site." Her gaze raked over Cora. "Sweets, you should try it sometime. Come on. This will look fabulous on you."

"He's got a Harley."

Lake grinned. "Oh, do tell."

"The bike."

Lake shook her head. "Hell I'd wear it. Nothing but his jeans between me and him and all the while the skirt covering what he can't see. The giant rumble beneath." Lake gave a shiver. "Yeah, this dress."

Cora jerked it away and tossed it amidst the growing mound of clothes on her bed. "No, not that dress. Regardless, I'd like to get to know the man before I jump his bones, ya know? I don't want to seem desperate and all but throw myself at him."

Lake stood and rummaged through the closet. "Trust me, if you threw yourself at him, the way that man looks at you, he'd merely break your fall with himself under you and his hands up your skirt."

Cora rolled her eyes. A glance in the mirror made her wonder what she was doing. Her hair was in hot rollers. Curlers, for crying out loud. Cora couldn't remember the last time she'd used curlers, hot rollers, or even a curling iron. But thanks to Lake's magic bag of tricks for the lonely and long abstinent woman, she now stood decked out in female primping glory.

"What am I doing? Dating?" She turned to her friend who was raking hangers over the rod, mumbling and shaking her head. "You know, I swore off dating."

Lake merely looked at her over her shoulder. "Where are cleavage shirts?"

Cora shook her head and blinked. "The what?"

"Cleavage shirts. You know, push up bra, low cut," someone said from the doorway.

Cora whirled. Kyle and Hanson stood grinning before they both walked into her room.

"One has to have cleavage for such a shirt to be named that," she muttered.

"Oh the blue dress," Hanson said, pointing to the scrap of chiffon on the bed. "And if you don't have enough for cleavage, dear, go without."

Without? As in without a bra? She only blinked.

"Yes," Hanson continued. "The dress, completely bare beneath, the man won't be able to sit through dinner."

"No," she strangled out.

Kyle looked at it then at her. "You could always say you want to take a car. I trust you with my Lexus."

"I want to ride his Harley," she said, almost whining.

Kyle slung an arm across her shoulders. "Of course you do darling, why do you think I went and bought you a box of these?" He handed her a gift bag.

She raised her brow and snatched it away, pulling the tissue paper out. She could only stare at the bottom. "Wow. I don't think anyone has ever given me a box of condoms as a gift before."

"It's a momentous occasion," Kyle said, before darting away to join the other two at the closet.

Giving up, Cora sat on the edge of the bed and watched as the others put together outfits, discarded other things and then decided.

Cora actually couldn't fault their decisions. Though the shirt she was certain she had given to Goodwill not long after Lake had talked her into buying it.

The pants were another one of those buys she couldn't remember making but was certain she'd been talked into.

The light beige pants were wide legged, flat fronted and low hipped. The shirt was one of the go-withouts. Hanson was holding up the gold, cream and pale blue spaghetti-strapped concoction.

"I don't have a choice in this do I?"

"No," they all answered.

Laughing, she gave up and walked into the bathroom. "Fine. I'll listen to you guys."

An hour later, standing in front of her mirror, she had to admit maybe her friends knew what they were talking about.

The pants managed to look sexy even as wide as they were. The strappy sandals only added to the dressed, yet casual look. The top was tied behind her neck, the material stretched over her torso, and fit against her bare breasts. Her hair was tousled in easy, fat curls.

Her make-up she'd left to Lake, assured it would be fine and wary she'd look like... Well, Cora didn't know, but the end effect was...perfect. Not too much, but enough.

"So, does it yell, 'take me now? I wanna ride your Harley!'?" Lake asked.

Cora smiled and shook her head. "I don't know what it says."

"I do," Hanson said softly. He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "It says, I'm sexy and I'm a woman. Don't mess with me."

Laughing she looked past him in the mirror to Lake who was sprawled across the haphazard clothing. "I like his version better."

"Same thing, different wording."

"No it's not." Lake sat up. "Okay dear, you do know what to do with the condoms, right?"

Kyle snorted.

"Yes, fill them with water and toss them at passing cars."

Lake tilted her head. "I don't think I ever did that."

"Hon," Kyle commented, "you probably didn't have any extras."

Lake shoved him off the edge of the bed.

Cora smiled at the group of them and then back at herself in the mirror. She hoped she'd have fun tonight.

"You look lovely," Hanson told her. "He's liable to fall over from shock."

"I doubt that very much," she muttered, turning this way and that. No man had ever fallen over from looking at her. "I lack those attributes that men fall over for."

"Such as?" Lake asked.

"Charming personalities, great looks, longer legs and bigger boobs." She tilted her head again. "But I'm pretty enough."

Hanson snorted. "Yeah the-girl-next-door has always been such a let down. One never hears of men falling for her." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Darling, you've got the most amazing eyes ever created. Most would have to get contacts to get that color. You shine, without question."

She patted his arm. "See, charm."

But his words made her pause. She gazed at her eyes, saw hers, saw others and her mind drifted.

He'd been waiting, but he wasn't waiting any longer. Soon she'd be his, and maybe he'd find that lost feeling he'd been looking for...

The jars...

The eyes, they all stared back at her. Some looking straight on, others floating to the side, or looking up.

But beyond the eyes, she saw the faces of who they once were...

Of who he stole away...

"I'm coming soon, Angel Eyes."

"Hon?" The hand on her arm startled her and she jerked, blinking at the room around her. Her room. Hers. Not the other.

But even on that thought, she fought back to the vision, to see beyond what she was shown, to see something, anything more than the eyes.

"Cora?" Kyle's voice floated to her.