Ren scowled, shooting to his feet so that Micah had to strain his neck to keep looking at him. “That’s a foul name the media came up with for what I do. I don’t hunt anyone; I save them.”

“You kill them,” Micah argued, the panic that he’d been doing such a good job fighting down making a valiant effort to tighten its grip on him. “You’re a murderer.”

“Our bodies are temporary. It’s our souls that are everlasting, and I save them from eternal damnation. If anything, I’m an angel.”

Micah felt sick. “No. What you do is kidnap people and torture them – make them apologize for something they can’t help, for who they are – and then you kill them.” Ren was the serial killer the NYPD had been after for months, the one Jensen was convinced he’d captured… the one who’d killed Nico. The realization had Micah swallowing down bile. “You’re a fucking monster.”

Ren scowled. “Stop that.”

“No!” Micah was experiencing too many emotions to have a hope in hell of containing them all, the strongest one at the moment being rage. “You sit there preaching all this bullshit about people like me being a blight against God, but it’s you who’s the abomination. Or have you forgotten one of the church’s most sacred rules? Thou shall not kill.”

“Don’t you go spouting scripture at me,” the man snapped. “I’m a pastor. I’ve studied the Bible and all related works from front to back.”

Yet another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

Miriam Murphy, the owner of one of the IP addresses they’d been investigating, had been a secretary for some church – Ren’s church, apparently. And Ren had been using her wi-fi connection to watch Nico’s webcam shows and connect with him – to eventually lure him out under the pretense of a date.

“I’m sure you know all about hell then – the dark, fiery pit God created specifically for pieces of shit like you. I hope when you die – which if I have anything to say about it, will be sooner rather than later – that He makes you experience every bit of hurt you’ve inflicted upon your victims, all the fucking terror they felt. You’re a disgusting, deplorable, vile piece of-!”

Micah cried out when a heeled boot came down hard on his shoulder as the man stomped him – apparently having had enough of Micah’s vitriol. He heard a disconcerting pop and realized half a second later, when his shoulder screamed at him, that it had been dislocated.

Micah choked back the urge to vomit.

Ren took a deep breath in through his nose. “I can see you’re in no state to listen. That’s fine; I’ll come back later. In the meantime, please do your best to calm yourself.”