The man moved his large, strong hands over her body, squeezing her arms and shoulders to relax them. He touched every inch of her skin. Instead of fighting against his touch as she had in the past, she allowed herself to enjoy it. When he touched her breasts, her stomach, and her crotch, he looked up into her eyes and watched for a hint of resistance. Seeing none, his eyes twinkled with mischief, and he went about the task of gently, lovingly giving her pleasure. For once, she didn�t feel guilty for enjoying his touch. In her mind, she had grown closer to this midnight marauder. She had become attached to him, and she had even grown to depend on his visits after a while. She no longer looked at other men. Somehow, seeing him exclusively allowed her to free herself from the guilt of enjoying and looking forward to his visits. As Diane lay gasping in response to his spectral manipulations, he slowly stopped, then laid himself softly beside her. Looking directly into her eyes, he pushed her hair back from her ear with his left hand and whispered, �Take good care of our baby.�

Diane couldn�t speak. She turned to look into his eyes, which were shining like brightly polished jade. He seemed to understand her thoughts, and whispered, �You�ll be a perfect mother. You�ll see.�

�Why me?� she sent the thought to him with her eyes.

�It�s all in the letter, Diane,� he said impatiently, shooing the thought with his hand. �But you know the answer already, don�t you? In your heart. In your soul.� All Diane could do in response was blink away the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

The room was dark, she was alone, and Diane jumped upright in her bed. She was covered with perspiration, and she still felt aroused. Her heart was racing and she was out of breath. Her skin still tingled where the Incubus had touched her. Her nose was still full of the tropical ocean he brought with him. She could taste the Mai Tai that was on his lips when he kissed her. Diane lay back in her bed and wiped away her tears.

�I don�t know how much more of this I can take,� Diane sobbed.

The Stop-N-Go convenience store on Seventh looked like a war zone. The products on the shelves were full of holes, ripped and shredded. Some items or their contents had spilled into the aisles. Juice was leaking out of cans. Shards of splintered glass covered the floor in front of the coolers. The walls were full of holes in neat trails, the footprints of an automatic weapon. There was one body in the back of the store by the beer cooler. His shopping basket lay on its side. A few of the man�s beer cans had popped open or been shot, and his Doritos appeared to be crumbled into the blood that encircled him. At the front of the store, behind the counter, two bodies lay in a large pool of blood. Two pairs of red and white footprints traced the killers� path from behind the now-empty cash register out the door, and they appeared to go off in different directions on the sidewalk just outside. Crime scene technicians were photographing, measuring, printing and examining every inch of the crime scene when the homicide detectives of the 1-5 arrived in force.