Free The Watched (CSI Reilly Steel #4) by CASEY HILL

right into the thick of it.
    Now that he’d made his first big splash, it was time to show the world just what he could do.
    His eyes narrowed as he examined the angle. Not quite right. He looked around the bathroom with distaste. What a dump. Granted, it was clean, but that was about the only positive thing he could say about it.
    ‘How can you live here?’
    A groan was his only answer and the only one he’d expected. The chloroform had worked wonderfully since he’d gotten the hang of it. He hadn’t even needed it to get in the door. All he’d had to do was tell the stupid bitch who he was, and she’d all but tripped over herself inviting him in. Worked every time, as he knew it would.
    Girls in this business were all the same.
    This one appeared to be in her mid-twenties, dark hair though not precisely the right shade, and pretty enough. She was also fairly tall which was going to make this much easier. He smiled with satisfaction, pleased with his choice.
    When he’d told her that there was something she had to do for him before he could consider her, she’d readily agreed. Although, judging by the tiny sh orts and ‘Damn Right I’m Sexy’ T-shirt she’d been wearing when she opened the door, she’d had something else entirely in mind as a trade.
    It didn’t matter. Whatever she’d been thinking let him get close enough to do what he needed to do.
    He stepped back and looked over the area with a critical eye. The bathroom was small, but had what he needed: a tub.
    He crossed to the tub, gloved hands moving expertly over the wires, though he stopped short of touching the steaming water, the heat bringing a sheen of sweat to his face. Then he took a step back.
    It was time.
    Over the rubber gloves, he pulled on a new pair of ordinary black ones.
    Then came the newest addition – a mask. He had too much work to do to risk his actual face being seen. The last thing he needed right now was the inconvenience of a police investigation.
    He checked himself in the mirror, just to make sure he couldn’t be identified. Pleased with his reflection, he moved on. After making sure everything was set up to his satisfaction, he squatted next to the girl and ran his hand over her hair.
    ‘Time to wake up , Sleeping Beauty,’ he whispered, keeping his voice low. The girl moaned; eyelids fluttering as she struggled to open them. Perfect timing.
    He grabbed a handful of her hair and stood. As he dragged her from the corner to the tub, she began to move, body responding to the pain in her head. Noises fell from her lips, but nothing loud or intelligible enough to cause a problem. The walls in the apartment might have been paper-thin, but the pounding music from the party down the hall was laying a rather loud soundtrack to proceedings.
    He manhandled the young woman into position, easily brushing aside her attempts to push him away as she slowly returned to consciousness. His fingers tightened in her hair and he took a deep breath, excitement coiling hot and hard in his stomach. He was going to have to do this again.
    ‘What . . .’
    That was his cue. He shoved the girl’s face into the now bubbling water. Her limbs flailed, fingers scrabbling against the wet porcelain. Her screams were muffled and the smell of boiling flesh filled his nostrils. He forced her head further under the water, wincing as the hot liquid soaked into his gloves, but not letting up. There was always a price to pay for art.
    Besides, the thrill of the moment was more than making up for the pain.
    All too soon, the girl’s struggles weakened and the only bubbles in the tub were from the heat. He released her, letting her face stay under, dark hair fanning out in the water.
    He stood, panting, every cell in his body humming as adrenaline raced through him. Logically, he knew his fingers were scalded, but his brain wasn’t processing anything negative at the moment. This had been the most exhilarating experience of his life. The girl’s muscles