“Hurts,” he muttered. And closed his eyes.
"Kat, come on!” The voice—Leah’s—shrieked out at her as the Camaro screamed to a stop just a few feet away.
“Come on! Come on!” They were all shouting at her, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t have gone to them if she had wanted to. She could feel the man’s—his name was David Brady, she could read his name tag now—life slipping away, feel the energy leaving him as if his soul were rising around her. All she could do was stare at the car and feel the dying man’s life ebbing, and her own heart thudding, and then the Camaro sped off with a squeal of rubber and she was left alone.
Really alone, because David Brady was dead now. His life force was gone.
She stayed beside him until she heard the sirens. Then she jumped to her feet and fled into the darkness, with David Brady’s blood still dripping from her hands.
Obsession Page 37
