11:55 p.m.

He stared at the moon and cursed himself.

His body ached with that relentless craving. A craving he had conquered for more than a dozen years. How could he be so helpless now… after all this time? Where was his strength?

He tightened the obedience belt to the final notch, screaming with the agony of the nails burrowing more deeply into his ribs. Still the urge would not be silenced.

She had done this to him. It was her fault. Jess Harris had become Birmingham’s sweetheart and she had ruined his life.

And now, as he stared at the bones spread on the blanket beneath the moonlight, he could barely breathe.

There was no turning back. No undoing the evil.

Dropping to his knees, he folded the blanket carefully, drawing the precious treasure into a protected bundle. He felt the blood oozing into his waistband, but he no longer cared.

Agony swelled again, bursting from his lips in low moans. He had been good for so long. His sweet Lucy and his Lord and Savior had given him the strength. The whore he’d married as a foolish young man had taken his baby girl from him. For years he had searched for a replacement to soothe his soul.

Satan had put that idea in his heart! He hadn’t meant to do it.

He’d lost control. He was weak… so weak.

But none had ever taken the place of his sweet, sweet Lucy. He’d tried to teach them, but they resisted until he sent them to heaven.

Finally the whore had died, and Lucy had come back to him.

He had walked the path of goodness since that day.

Until now.

“Forgive me, Father,” he cried as he searched the heavens for a sign. “I have broken our covenant. I am lost!”

But there would be no sign and no forgiveness this time. All was lost.

What if someone else had seen him take the girl?

Fear speared his heart. He jumped to his feet, the bundle held tightly to his chest, and rushed into the house. The dogs watched as he paced back and forth in hopes of working off some of the anxiety crushing him in its ruthless grip.

He’d always been so careful… every step meticulously calculated. Not tonight. Tonight had been filled with chaos and complications.

Complications he should have seen coming.

Think! He had to think. He’d had to move this treasure from beneath the burying tree sooner than he’d intended. The order had come and he’d had no choice.

Then he’d lost control and taken a new one.

“God, why have you forsaken me?” He wailed.

The police could be coming for him now! Harris could be coming for him!

He’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. This wasn’t part of the plan.

He hadn’t wanted to do this. But he’d seen her playing in the street… watching her… listening to her voice had roused the demon. He’d been weak and he’d lost control.

It wasn’t his fault… not his fault at all.

He moaned, the sound low and deep in his throat.

She was responsible.

Penelope curled around his leg, trying to comfort him with her rubbing and purring. He nudged the cat away. He had to think.

The basement! He could hide this precious delivery in the basement just in case there was trouble tonight.

He hurried to the closet and his secret door. He didn’t bother with the flashlight. The darkness was his ally.

He felt his way down the steep stairs that descended into the basement. It was safe down here so he pulled the string that lit the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. Taking his time he scanned the shelves and the boxes for the perfect spot.

The Christmas box. Yes, that would serve his purpose. He gently placed the precious bundle atop another sturdy box, one that contained old photographs he no longer cared to look at. He should have thrown it away a long time ago. He swiped the dust from the Christmas box and opened the flaps. After moving aside the piles of colorful balls and strands of shiny tinsel, he placed the precious bundle inside, positioned tinsel over it and quickly closed the flaps.

“There.” His body twitched with relief. This little one was safe now.

He turned off the light and climbed the stairs. Quickly, he assured his secret door was hidden once more. Just in case. His heart continued to pound as sweat slid down his body, joining the blood soaking into his trousers.

He closed his eyes and fought the longing to touch the new treasure.

He slowed his breathing and focused his mind on Lucy.

Whimpering brushed his senses. His breath hardened to rock in his lungs, stiffening his spine.

She was awake.

“Shhh,” he urged. “You mustn’t cry.”

Her cries grew louder and he cried with her. “Please,” he begged, “don’t cry.”

She sobbed harder.

He sank to the floor, the demon inside him howling with need. He banged his head against the wall… fought the urges… but it was too late.

It was done.