After finding nothing, he dropped his head and went back to unloading the inventory. Just like that, the something was on him. It moved light speed fast. Fabian fell against the floor and clawed at his assailant. A feeling of intense agony ricocheted up my body, starting at my legs and ending in my gut, the feeling of something tearing at my insides. I ignored the painful throbbing, knowing it wasn’t happening to me. It had happened to Fabian, and it was his pain I was feeling. Still, my knees went weak, and I collapsed against Knight, who held me up against him but wouldn’t release me-he wanted me to see this.
An image of a woman loomed before me, before Fabian. Her mouth was full of sharply pointed teeth-like a shark. Blood trailed down her mouth and contrasted against the pale flesh caught in her teeth. I felt my stomach turn. It was Fabian’s flesh. She’d eaten him! She’d eaten him while he was still alive. Just as she’d no doubt eaten Guy and Tad as well.
She laughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then I recognized her. She was the tall redhead from Dagan’s club! The one wearing the tape. The one Dagan had seemed to be enjoying.
Holy Hades! Did Dagan know about her? Was Dagan even still alive?
The vision ended, and the room came into view. Knight released me. I tried to right myself, but I couldn’t move. He maneuvered me to the sofa next to Trey and sat me down. “What the hell was that?” I whispered. “I channeled Trey’s vision,” Knight responded. “Did you recognize her?” I nodded weakly. “Who?” Sam interrupted. “What the heck just happened?” I took in a deep breath and focused on her pale face. “We know who the creature is.”
ELEVEN
I was alone.
It seemed like the first time in a long time, and I relished my privacy; relished the fact that I didn’t have to look at Trey’s bloated and sweaty face, verbally spar with Knight, or wonder if Quillan was going to bring up our kiss. Men were in a word…exhausting.
I sank into the couch, propping my feet up on the coffee table, still reeling from the events of the week. We knew who the creature was-it was an exhilarating feeling. I had to keep myself from taking action-there wasn’t anything I could do until I questioned Dagan about the red-head’s whereabouts and that wouldn’t be until tonight…with Knight.
That, and Quillan was on his way over to drop off Trey. Quillan had decided that Trey could and should still be working, but because of the whole protection thing, he wanted to make sure someone was with Trey twenty-four- seven. So, that meant my watch at night and Quillan’s during the day. How was I going to keep an eye on Trey and go to Dagan’s? Yeah, I hadn’t quite figured that one out yet.
I faced my computer screen and clicked on the last of my Captain Slade query replies. Yep, this one was also a rejection. I deleted the email immediately and leaned back in my chair with a heart-felt sigh.
Maybe writing a paranormal book wasn’t such a bad idea? Course, I didn’t want to go through the agony of spilling my heart into something for months only to find that no one else liked it. But, Sam was convinced I was a good writer and I needed to believe in myself. And Bram seemed an interesting enough subject to carry a book. Hmm, maybe I’d arrange a little detour after our meeting with Dagan, so we could visit Bram. Then I could see what he thought about the book idea…
I laughed and shook my head. Who was I kidding? A narcissist like Bram would love it. That was the part about the whole thing I didn’t exactly like-the fact that I’d be stroking an ego that was already the size of Nick the ogre. But, sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. And, hey, I still needed to ask Dagan about his Chinese massage parlor thing, so I owed Bram a visit anyway.
But, what about Trey? I couldn’t just leave him. Then the figurative light bulb went off over my head. I’d leave him with Bram. That would allow Knight and me to question Dagan. And Quillan would never know any of it. Ah, perfect.
The sound of scratching interrupted my daydreaming. I stood up, cocking my head to the side. The apartment was completely silent. I padded over toward the kitchen in my bare feet when I heard the scratching again. It seemed to come from the kitchen door that led out into the yard. My heart pounded as if wanting to burst from my chest.
Then it dawned on me-the gremlins. I hadn’t fed them yet today. Bad me. My heart stopped freaking out, and I went to the back door, pulling it wide. The gremlins weren’t outside, but their bowls were overturned as if they’d been pawing at them. I reached down and grabbed both bowls and made my way back into the kitchen.
Pulling open the half-full bag of Alpo, I scooped two mug-fulls of the smelly stuff and filled each bowl. How the hell did dogs-or gremlins-eat this stuff? Shaking my head, I poured some hot water over the top of both bowls which made an even fouler smelling gravy. Then I plodded back outside and searched, in vain, for my gremlins. I thought about just leaving the bowls by the kitchen door, but I was paranoid about feeding the “dogs” and being caught by my neighbors. So, I slipped into my flip flops and, after making sure no neighbors were around, started for the woods.
The cold air hit me like an arresting officer, and I shivered. I bolstered myself against the frigid air and started forward, hoping the little bastards weren’t far. I didn’t have the patience or the interest, really, to chase after them.
Hey, I wasn’t the one who was hungry.
As soon as I hit the shelter of the trees, I shook the food in the metal bowl, hoping the sound would lure them out. Nothing. Wasn’t that the norm when calling a hungry dog? I shook the food again but they didn’t come out. Instead, a few drops of the gelatinous gravy sloshed over the side of one bowl and spilled over my hand. Ugh.
Four more steps, and then I was over it. Let the dumb things go hungry. The sound of something moving behind me stopped me. I dropped both bowls of food, and one landed upside-down on my foot, the gravy sliding between my toes. I pivoted, bracing myself for whatever was behind me.
Nothing.
No sign of the gremlins; no sign of anything. Just the shadows of pine trees against the blue-black of the night. A chilly breeze flowed through the pine boughs and lashed my face, as if trying to pull my attention away from whatever creature was lurking in the woods, waiting for me. The sudden still of the woods practically shouted it-something was stalking me. And I had a feeling that something happened to have fire-red hair.
With a deep breath, I launched myself in the direction of my open kitchen door. No sooner did I take two steps, when I felt myself go airborne, the cold night air freezing as I sailed through it. I smacked against the ground, bouncing once and landing on my back. My abrupt landing knocked the air from my lungs and left me feeling as flat as a Swedish pancake.
Bright flashes burst behind my eyes, pain radiating through the back of my head. I lay there, stunned for a moment before I realized I had to get up-fast. Whatever had sent me flying was big.
I forced myself to my feet, determined to ignore the dull ache in my head. Another swoosh of air rang out behind me. I spun around toward the trees, seeing nothing but their skeletal outlines. I heard panting, and it was close. The image of Sigourney Weaver with the alien breathing into her ear came to mind and I had to push it away.
If I tried to run, it would kill me. I leaned against the nearest tree and focused on the crude outline of the pines against the dark. I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust appeared. Blowing the dust, I envisioned a duplicate image of myself. No sooner did the thought leave my mind than a projection of myself stood there-a me hologram.
I nodded toward the projection and thought the word “run”. Watching the clone me take off toward the east side of the apartment, I went west. The clone was maybe one hundred yards to my kitchen door. Hopefully whatever was in the forest had fallen for the bait.
I ran full bore for the kitchen when I heard a sound behind me-something running through a pile of dried twigs. I couldn’t help it-I glanced over my shoulder but saw nothing. Was the damned thing invisible?
“Dulcie!”
I whipped my face forward again, but it was too late. I ran headlong into Quillan. If he hadn’t been bracing
