The sailor had turned and was looking them both over appreciatively. Renee kept her head turned away, just so he wouldn't get the wrong idea and make ...omething out of a stray glance."Well, it's what you want, isn't it? Fran complained. She flashed the sailor a smile and followed Renee outside."I did not want a sailor!" Why not?" Fran pouted. "I thought he was cute. And I'll bet he's tough as leather." Because he's a sailor. That's why. We need protection-- not a boards party." Maybe that's what. He was lucky. The knife had told him so. He had found his Purpose in life. A Purpose he was good at it. And better yet, he liked it. His attention was drawn back to the bloody, abused girl in his hands. He carried her by the throat back through the door and down the rickety basement steps. Her fingers were digging into his hands, nails drawing bloody furrows, her bare feet were kicking at his legs. He didn’t feel it. All he felt was the pull of attraction to the knife. The pull to the power,. More

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