The Unquiet

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    THE UNQUIET
     
    A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the authors
    PRINTING HISTORY
    Jove mass-market edition / October 2011
     
Collection copyright © 2011 by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
    “Chaos in Death” by J. D. Robb copyright © 2011 by Nora Roberts.
    “Her Greatest Treasure” copyright © 2011 by Mary Blayney.
    “Dear One” copyright © 2011 by Patricia Gaffney.
    “The Unforgiven” copyright © 2011 by Ruth Ryan Langan.
    “His Brother’s Keeper” copyright © 2011 by Mary Kay McComas.
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    ISBN : 978-1-101-54443-3
     
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CHAOS IN DEATH
    J. D. ROBB
     
     
     
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
    THE SHADOW
     
     
Good and evil we know in the field of this world grow up together almost inseparably.
    JOHN MILTON

ONE

    He found life in death. And delight in the whirlwind of fear and fright. To hunt, to steal the light, the life, the blood, the soul. Well, he’d been born for it.
    It made him laugh to dance around the madness of his creating, cape swirling—and wasn’t that a wonderful touch—legs kicking in a joyful jig.
    Even the sound of his own laughter, deep and rich and free, thrilled him, made him laugh all the harder.
    He was alive .
    “And you’re not!”
    He hopped, skipped, leaped over the three bodies he’d arranged on the floor. Tilting his head, he grinned at his handiwork. He’d laid them out so they sat—well, slumped, but that was dead for you—in a line against the wall.
    Pitiful specimens, really, this trio of junkies who’d barely had the wit or the will to put up a fight. But God knew a man had to start somewhere. Still, their fear was his now, and their tears, their cries and pleas—all his.
    It tasted so delicious.
    He needed more, of course, so many more. But he’d made a most excellent start. No more playing by the rules, no sir ! No more Mr. Good Guy.
    Boring guy.
    He patted his own chest. “I feel like a whole new man.”
    Chuckling, he stowed the bloody scalpel, the vials, all the lovely specimens in his kit. And inspiration struck.
    Clichéd? he asked himself, his head tipping from side to side, his gleaming red eyes bulging with glee and madness as he scanned the room, the bodies, the walls. Maybe, maybe, but irresistible!
    After dipping a gloved finger into a pool of congealing blood, he composed his message on the dingy wall. He had to dip back into the