The second book in the Eve, Quinn and Bonnie series, 2011

STOP ME. FIND ME. KILL ME.

Agony tore through him as John Gallo pushed through the brush, the branches scratching his face as he ran.

How long had he been on the run?

Hours? Days?

And why couldn’t he stop?

Why couldn’t he let the sheriff’s men find him, shoot him? He knew these woods so well that it was easy to avoid capture. Whenever they had come near, instinct and self-preservation had kicked into high gear, and he had fled.

And those instincts were so good, he thought bitterly. They had been honed by all the battles, all the killings, all the ugliness of his life. Save yourself so that you can kill again.

But at least he had not stayed to kill his hunters. That was part of the reason why he had not exposed himself. He couldn’t trust himself not to kill them. He was too well trained, too expert in the ways of destruction.

And then there was the madness.

There was no telling where that sickness would take him.

He was climbing, he realized. He was climbing the high hill where he’d done his last kill.

Paul Black. He’d broken his neck.

And Joe Quinn. If he was dead, that, too, could be laid at his door.

He broke free of the shrubs and trees and was standing on the edge of the cliff over the lake.

What was he doing there?

One step, and he would plunge over the precipice.

Why not?

Maybe that damnable instinct would not kick in when he hit the lake below.

“It will, you know.”

He stiffened, afraid to turn around to see who had spoken.

Madness. It was back, taunting him, torturing him.