Free The Devil's Heart by William W. Johnstone

showered quickly and dried off, stepping into underwear shorts. He padded barefoot into his bedroom to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The dark, thick mat of hair on his chest looked strange with the burned-on scar of the cross directly in the center. He wondered if the hair would ever grow back.
    He gazed into his mirrored reflection. "I have a mission." He repeated his father's words, speaking in a whisper. "And it may destroy me. I will be tempted, and fall to some of those temptations."
    He wondered if his father had been writing of Nydia or Roma, or both? Then he decided his father had been referring to Roma.
    He stepped away from the mirror and carefully hid the containers of holy water. He opened the manila envelope and sat on the edge of the bed, studying the 8 x 10 of his father. He was still gazing at the 8 x 10 when the knock sounded on the hall door.
    Slipping into a robe, Sam opened the door. Adam Benning stood in the hall, smiling at him.
    "Sam." Adam stuck out his hand. "Bet you're surprised to see me?" It was spoken in a greasy manner.
    The two young men did not get along well. Although the same age, Adam was a senior while Sam was a freshman. And Adam was a sly, sneaky type . . . the type Sam didn't like.
    Sam shook the offered hand. It was clammy and soft. Sam resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his robe. "Yes, I am. Black didn't tell us he had invited others."
    Adam grinned lewdly. "Thought you'd have Nydia all to yourself, huh?"
    Sam stared at him just long enough for Adam to begin to feel uncomfortable under the unblinking gaze. "I think I'll lie down for a time, Adam. So if you'll excuse me … ?"
    Adam flushed hotly, clenching his hands into fists at his side. "Well, there's always one, I guess; always one person that has to screw up a good thing."
    "Meaning me, Adam?"
    "You might learn a thing or two up here, Sam. It should be interesting."
    "Maybe more than you realize," Sam replied.
    Adam's smile was ugly. He stalked away without shutting the door. Sam turned at a slight noise behind, tensing, then relaxing as the connecting door to Nydia's room opened. She stepped into the room and Sam closed the hall door, locking it.
    "I've got an idea, Sam," she said, moving closer to him. He could smell the clean scent of bath soap, and the ends of her raven hair were slightly damp from the shower. A pulse beat strongly in her throat.
    It was not a holy union, his father's words returned to him.
    Sam could see she was wearing nothing under her robe, from the waist up. He could but guess about from the waist down.
    If anything, it was blessed by the Dark One.
    Sam pushed his father's words from his mind. "I'll be glad to hear your ideas, Nydia." His voice was husky. "I sure don't have any." Boy, what a lie!
    "Your dad may not like this," she warned, taking another step closer to him.
    "My dad dumped this … mission in my lap." Sam's tone was a bit sarcastic. "And if you're listening, Dad, I'm sorry. But I don't know what to do."
    "Let's play along for a time," she suggested. "I mean … can we leave? I don't think so. I found out my mother can't read me as before, and I suspect your dad had something to do with that. But the strangest thing has happened, Sam …"
    He arched an eyebrow at her pause, very much aware that that was not the only part of him that was beginning to arch upward. He resisted an impulse to fold his hands over his crotch.
    "I can pick up on your thoughts, now," she said, smiling. "And yes, Sam, I am wearing panties."
    And she deliberately chose not to wear a bra. The thought popped into Sam's mind.
    "You see?" she said. "It's not exactly reading a mind as much as just guessing accurately what the other has done or is about to do."
    She wants me to kiss her. Sam sensed that mental push very strongly.
    "So do it, Sam. Before I change my mind."
    He stepped off the short distance between them with as much mixed emotion as when he first hurled himself out the open door of a