Midnight Jewels

his first victim. They were all potential victims and they knew it. They would have been frightened of cooperating with the cops, but they weren't afraid of a young kid who wanted to know what had happened to his old man. I got the help I needed. And I found the man who had stuck a knife in Dad."
    "What happened to the killer?" Mercy wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.
    Croft gave her a cool, level look. "I didn't kill him."
    "Almost but not quite?"
    "Not quite. I left him unconscious on me front steps of me police station. I also left enough incriminating evidence in his pockets to tie him to my father's minder and the murders of a couple of other transients."
    "Where did you get the evidence?"
    Croft shrugged. "He was still carrying around some of the things he'd taken off his victims' bodies. And he had the knife that had been used to kill my father. Not the brightest killer in the world. The cops were more than happy to have three murder cases cleared up without any real effort on their part. They didn't try to look a gift horse in the mouth. They even managed to get a confession out of the guy. Justice, after a fashion, got done."
    Mercy didn't flinch from his direct gaze. "A closed Circle."
    Croft's mourn twisted slightly. "Yes."
    "What happened next, Croft?" Mercy kept her voice steady even though her stomach was tying itself into a knot.
    "I learned something about myself during the process of tracking down the bastard who killed my father. Something that I might have been better off not knowing. It scared me."
    "Let me guess," Mercy said softly. "I think you found out two tilings. The first was that you could do it. You actually found the killer and took your vengeance. You were able to do on your own what society couldn't do. The second thing you learned was that you found your new line of work… interesting? Is that the right word?"
    His eyes never left her face. "Fascinating is the word. And I had an aptitude for it. After I found the man who murdered Dad, I knew that in a sense I had found myself. I had to know more. But dure was still the money problem. So I joined the Army, and that's when I realized I really didn't deal well with authority, especially blind, bureaucratic, senseless authority that operates most of the time without reason or logic. But the military gave me training, the kind of training I hungered for."
    "And after that?"
    "My aptitude didn't go unnoticed," Croft said dryly. "I was invited to go to work for a special unit, but it wasn't long before I knew I wasn't going to make a very good team player. So I left when my hitch was up, took the money I had saved and went looking for some of the names on the list my old instructor had given me. I found a few. I traveled and studied and learned and everything I teamed was dangerous in some way, either mentally or emotionally or physically. So I had to learn how to control the things I learned. And I didn't stop there. I put what I learned into practice. There was a market for my skills. An insatiable market."
    Mercy smiled in spite of herself. "Don't waste your time trying to frighten me with veiled hints of how dangerous you are, Croft. It won't work. I know you too well."
    "You aren't scared of me, are you?" he asked quietly. "Not on any level. I wonder why. You're such a soft, gentle little thing."
    "Just because I'm smaller than you and maybe a bit softer in certain areas—although certainly not in the head—that doesn't make me a 'soft, gentle little thing.' I'm not afraid of you because even though you seem to be interested in violence and physically adept at it, you're not crazy. You're not out of control. You've come to terms with yourself and your nature. In some ways you're one of the most civilized men I've ever met. All of us have a streak of wildness in us. Few of us have had to learn to control it and integrate it into our day-to-day lives. But you have. Maybe mat's the true definition of being a civilized human being."
    Croft closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind the bed. "Don't romanticize what I am, Mercy."
    "I'm not romanticizing you. I'm trying to understand you."
    His lashes lifted, revealing a betraying hunger. "Why?"
    "I've already given you the answer to that question. I love you."
    He sat up in a smooth rush, his expression stark. "Mercy, you don't know what you're saying."
    The phone rang shrilly. Mercy reached to answer it. "Of course I know what I'm saying. I'm not a complete