Dark Prophecy Read Online Free PDF Page A

adjunct—teaching an upper-level course in their criminal justice department. From elite manhunter to undergrad lecturer, all in the span of a few months. The university claimed to be thrilled to have him, but most of the criminology faculty dismissed his presence as a desperate publicity stunt. Dark was still infamous from the Sqweegel case five years ago, and the two would be forever associated in the public mind. Even the student paper had taken a jab at him, suggesting his students add a “full-body condom” to their order at the campus bookstore. Otherwise, he’ll grade your DNA , the joke went.
    “Would you have some time later this evening?” Blake asked now. “I do have something I wanted to run by you—if it’s not too much of an imposition.”
    “What kind of something?”
    “For my doctorate. I promise, just a few minutes of your time. Dinner’s on me.”
    Dinner now. She was really stomping her boot down on the accelerator. Dark wondered if she’d already made up an excuse for her fiancé, or if she’d step aside and make one up on the spot. As she waited, Blake twirled her fingers around her hair, made her lips look the tiniest bit fuller, opened her eyes slightly wider. Dark wished he couldn’t read people so easily.
    “Dinner’s out,” Dark said. “But I do have office hours after my twelve thirty this Monday.”
    Blake started to move as if she didn’t hear him. “I’m going to have a little more wine. Care for some?”
    Like she was trying to get him drunk at a kegger.
    Dark handed her the cup. “Sure.” However, it would take a lot more than cheap chardonnay in a paper cup. Dark knew how the afternoon would play out: Ms. Blake here would go home to her fiancé, and he would go home alone. Sometimes, Dark longed to turn off the manhunter part of his brain. Even for a little while. Just drink the wine, give Blake the freak show she wanted, and blank out everything else in a blur of sex and alcohol.
    But Dark couldn’t. Not with his daughter’s half-finished bedroom waiting for him.

chapter 6
    West Hollywood, California
     
     
    As Dark drove home from UCLA he had every intention of calling his daughter up in Santa Barbara and talking to her about paint for her new bedroom. But by the time he pulled up in front of the house, Dark realized he couldn’t just ask what color. There were thousands of varying shades; Sibby would want to see samples. So that meant going to the store, picking up a handful of paint chip palettes, then driving up to Santa Barbara. He was long overdue for a visit anyway.
    Dark keyed into his front door, though, and realized it was probably too late in the evening for that. The faculty mixer had gone on too long; traffic along Wilshire sucked. By the time he made it up to Santa Barbara, his little girl would be getting ready for bed.
    So instead, Dark decided to do a little studying in his basement.
    Not many California homes have basements. But Dark’s home, which he’d purchased in July, was the former home of William Burnett, an infamous 1940s-era surgeon. Infamous, that is, to a handful of people in retirement homes. The rest of L.A. had completely forgotten about him.
    Burnett had owned a couple of clubs on the Sunset Strip, kept the LAPD greased, and trafficked in prescription narcotics. Which made him very popular on the strip. However, such schemes rarely last forever. Dr. Burnett’s life fell apart when he started taking too many of his own pills and ended up killing a patient on the table when he clamped down on the wrong artery. The investigation lead to a dozen wrongful-death suits, and, finally, criminal charges.
    Dark had discovered Burnett’s secret basement the first time he was alone in the house. The real estate agent was outside, taking a call; Dark had gone exploring. He wanted a home that could be quickly fortified, sealed up. He’d faced off against too many monsters who liked to hide in crevices.
    Dark found something strange in the