
Primal Instinct
Серия: Jessica Coran, книга 3
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Hawaii, the island of Oahu, the outskirts of Honolulu near Koko Head crater… 1:35 A.M., July 12, 1995
He does a bad Elvis imitation, crooning aloud the words for “Don't Be Cruel” as it's pounding from his car-radio speaker on Hawaii's hottest rock station, KBHT-“Hot Hawaii!” He interrupts himself with a snicker and says, “Too late, hey, Kelia honey… tooooo late for doughn't be cruel, huh, baby?”
He chuckles lightly at his antics and the irony of the Elvis tune, and then he reaches out to his passenger, lifts the disfigured head from the bloodied chest, and stares into the vacant eyes of the dead girl he calls Kelia. He momentarily studies the fact her hands are missing, both severed at the wrists. He doesn't remember slicing them off, nor, for that matter, if he'd earlier taken time to put the hands on ice. If not, he will secure them later, when he gets back home. Lopaka doesn't remember a lot of what he does while in the act itself; he is able only to piece things completely together after long bouts of depression and weeks of flashback. Looking at the dead girl's hands, for months afterward, allows him to relive the whole experience once again, the only thing save another kill that lends respite from his depression, even if temporarily. And he doesn't think the gods will really miss a pair of hands.
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