—but I had a feeling they were all there somewhere, haunting the shadowy corners of my brain.
The sudden and completely foreign sound of giggling brought me around with a startled gasp.
What the hell?
My heart pounding, I snatched back the shower curtain, shivering when I found the bathtub empty. Frowning, I opened the bathroom door and poked my head out, taking in the rest of the apartment in a glance. With a shrug, I closed the door again and started the water for a shower. “Just your imagination, Trish,” I muttered. “You’ve been working way too hard.”
A moment later, I stepped into the shower and let the steaming hot water wash over me again. My entire body was beginning to ache from the beating I’d taken from the vampires, and my wrist was still throbbing. I awkwardly managed to wash my hair with one hand while trying to keep the wrapping around my wrist dry, and had just finished rinsing off when I felt an icy blast of wind. I shivered violently at the sudden change in temperature and poked my head out from behind the shower curtain. The door to the bathroom stood wide open.
Huh. I could’ve sworn . . .
“Sasha?” I called, expecting to see the cat tucked into some secret hiding place in the bathroom, but she padded in from the other room at the sound of my voice and offered me a cautious meow as if she was as puzzled as I was by the open door. I shivered again, but shrugged off the creepiness with a forced laugh. “Jeez, Trish, get a grip! You get jumped by a couple of vampires and you suddenly go all paranoid?”
I quickly finished my shower and pulled on my favorite blue and black plaid flannel pajama pants and a black T-shirt with a skull and crossbones blazoned across the chest, then headed back out to the living room to my desk and booted up my computer. Even though I was seriously freaking tired, I wanted to capture the events of the evening along with my impressions of the victim as well as his vampire assailants before I turned in.
Sasha padded over and twisted around my ankles and the legs of the chair in which I sat, the soft drone of her purring so warm and comforting, I felt my lids growing heavy as I typed. I’d only managed to get through my thoughts on the victim when my head dropped suddenly, startling me awake. I glanced around guiltily, my face going warm, embarrassed to be caught dozing. But then I chuckled at my reaction. Why be embarrassed? Who the hell was going to see me? Sasha? Hell, I could drop dead in my apartment and no one would even notice until I didn’t show up for work the next day. And even then they’d probably just think I was out on a case.
My shoulders sagged. God, how depressing was that?
The same feminine giggle brought my head around with a gasp.
“Who’s there?” I demanded.
I scanned the corners of my apartment, looking for signs of a pixie or some other sprite who’d sneaked in to wreak a little havoc on the poor, overworked FMA agent, but even as I glanced around, I heard the floorboards creak near my bedroom. I leaped to my feet, trying to swallow the lump of fear firmly lodged in my throat. My gaze narrowed as I watched the dark doorway to my room, waiting for the shadows to part and reveal my intruder, but although I could hear the footsteps coming closer, I couldn’t see anything—not even a ripple of movement to betray where she was.
“Show yourself,” I ordered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. And failing. “What do you want?”
I heard the footsteps walking the perimeter of the room and slowly turned, tracking their movement and trying to keep my breathing under control, my fear in check. Then the footsteps suddenly stopped. I held my breath, listening intently, my skin prickling with apprehension. I swallowed, waiting. The tick, tick, tick of the clock hanging on the wall seemed amplified in the unnatural silence, becoming a pounding rhythm in my head.
Suddenly, there was a loud thump above my head and a giggle and then the bam, bam, bam of my upstairs neighbor’s headboard banging against the wall. I let out my breath in a gasp and laughed, the sound coming out as a thin, shaky chuckle.
What a dork.
I should’ve known it was all just Tracy the Tramp entertaining her boy-toy du jour. I laughed again, a little louder this time, but my relief was cut short when a horrible coppery taste filled my mouth, jolting me a little. Frowning, I touched my tongue and looked at my fingers, startled to see blood there.
“What the hell?” I hurried into my bathroom and leaned close to the mirror, opening my mouth to get a look, but there was nothing there. No blood. No evidence of injury. Nothing. “Weird . . .”
Behind me, the door slammed shut, startling a scream from me. I whirled around and grabbed the knob to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. I gripped it harder, my knuckles turning white as I strained to turn the knob, but it was like someone was on the other side, holding it shut. I rattled the door, trying to jerk it open. No go. My chest heaved with panicked breaths as the walls in the tiny bathroom seemed to be closing in, slowly squeezing the air out of the room.
Great—perfect time to become claustrophobic.
“Let me out, damn it!” I yelled, pounding on the door with my fist, trying desperately to keep it together, rein in the fear and not let it take over. I had to keep calm, use my head. I let go of the door and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Okay, okay, okay,” I muttered. “There’s a logical explanation for all of this, Trish. There’s nothing in here with you.”
In response, the lights began to flicker, creating a strobe effect against the bright white tile. I spun around and pressed my back to the door, my eyes searching the intermittent darkness. Well, shit, there went that theory. . . .
“Knock it the hell off!” I screamed. “Leave me alone!”
The giggle came again, bouncing off the walls, the sound distorted and disorienting. The sink faucet splurted to life, spraying out water with such force it overflowed the sink to splatter the mirror and rain down over the lip of the vanity and onto the floor. Then the shower came on, the water so hot, steam began to fill the air almost immediately. I turned back toward the door, fear making me pound on the door so hard, I thought my hand would break. But I didn’t care—I just wanted out.
“Help me!” I shouted over the roaring water, my feet now damp from the overflowing sink. “Someone help me! Please!”
As if on cue, the bathroom door exploded inward, smacking me in the forehead and knocking me on my ass. I slid with the force, nailing the back of my head on the toilet. For one terrifying, dizzying moment, the world went black, but I forced myself to keep it together and shakily managed to drag myself toward the open door. My apartment tilted precariously, and my stomach lurched, but I forced down the rush of vomit and grabbed the doorjamb, pulling myself to my feet.
The moment I was upright, the faucets abruptly shut off and the strobe light ceased, plunging the bathroom into darkness. I stumbled through the open doorway, shaking so violently I was barely able to control my legs beneath me. As soon as I was through the door, I pressed my back to the wall, my chest heaving. I gulped down the bile rising to my mouth and was glad for the distraction of the burning sensation as it went back down. I shook my head. Screw this! I was taking my cat and getting the hell out.
I pushed away from the wall and all the lights I’d left on throughout the apartment blinked out at once, sending a fresh shot of fear-infused adrenaline through my veins. “Oh, God,” I moaned, dropping back against the wall. I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds, steeling my nerves, praying like hell that I wouldn’t see someone standing in front of me when I opened them again. I blew out a couple of quick breaths, then forced my lids open, scanning the room at a glance as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.
“Sasha,” I called, my voice little more than a strained whisper as I continued to watch for any movement. “Sasha!” I heard her answering mew coming from my bedroom and nearly wept.
I edged along the wall, creeping toward my room, and heard a soft thud as Sasha jumped down from her usual perch on the window seat, but she didn’t emerge as I expected. Then I heard her low growl and glanced around frantically, wondering what she saw that I didn’t. A single bead of sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades as if in slow motion, ratcheting up the persistent niggling of dread creeping under my skin. “Sasha, come here, baby!”
With a trembling hand, I pushed open the bedroom door, wishing like hell that I had a gun or a baseball bat. Of course, even as I wished it, I had a feeling neither weapon would’ve been much use against the invisible creature who had invaded my home.
As the door swung open, I darted inside and flipped on the light. Startled by my sudden movement, Sasha yowled and bolted from the room, nearly scaring the shit out of me in the process. “Damn it!” I cried as I stumbled
