I jerked back and forth on the chair, tryingto get free, the chair legs screeching over the polishedfloorboards.
My whole body shook, my fingers and browwere slicked with sweat, and my heart was shuddering so badly Ithought I’d die.
I watched as the guy backed up against theisland bench and crossed his considerable arms in front of hischest. “Where’s Joan?” His words were choppy, quick, a line ofsweat collecting across his brow. He still looked confused, butthat didn’t detract from his anger – not one little bit.
I shook my head, tears trailing down mycheeks and slipping over the smooth gray surface of the gaffer tape.
I knew my eyes were already wider thanthey’d ever been. And yet, they grew wider still as the guy swunghis arms down and pushed away from the bench, taking a loud steptowards me. “Either you tell me where Joan is now, or I start toplay mean.”
I screamed behind the tape, the desperate cry completely muffled.More tears cascaded down my pale cheeks as I tried to jerk back onthe chair.
“Who do you work for? Fagen? The LonelyKing?” He shifted closeand slowly got down on one knee, his arm resting on it as he staredup at me. “Coming here was a stupid mistake, fairy.”
… Though there was so much going wrong –though my mind was splitting itself apart with fear – I still did adouble take.
Fairy?
This guy had called my grandma his future.Now he thought I was a fictional creature.
What the hell was going on?
He paused, obviously waiting for me toanswer. But, just as obviously, I couldn’t answer: I was stillgagged, after all.
Did he think I could talkthroughelectrical tape?
I shifted as far back from him as the chairwould allow, the muscles of my neck straining and the tape aroundmy wrists catching the fine hairs along my forearms.
He waited there a few more moments thenshook his head. It had such definite finality that it was clearhe’d just come to some decision.
He rose and loomed above me.
I’d been mugged once. And I’d beenfollowed down alleys a couple of times.
Payback for all my sins, ha?
But this? I’d never faced anything remotelylike this.
My heart didn’t just shudder with fear – itfelt like it tore itself to shreds.
I watched in horror as he reacheda hand towards me.
My brain told me this was it.
My life was over.
This creep would wring my neck and leave meon the cold kitchen floor.
I saw his fingers reach towards my neck. Saw his short nailscatching the midday light streaming in through the windows behindthe table. Saw the muscles tense and tighten up his wrist and intohis large shoulder.
And I snapped.
Or something in me snapped.
It was literally as if something shatteredbefore my eyes.
I saw sparks cascade through my field ofvision. Darting, pulsing, bright pricks of white-blue andyellow-gold dancing around the corners of my eyes.
There. Right in the center of my eyes. Rightin the middle of my field of vision.
I saw something else.
Something overlaid right on the top ofthis scene. Like a picture painted over a photo.
I saw the guy reaching for a flip knife inhis left pocket.
I didn’t have time to notice that theblade was covered in glowing runes. I didn’t have time to noticethe light lick of flame that danced around his fingers and down his palm.
All I could do was react.
In a snap, the image over my visionstopped.
And, in real life, I saw the man reach forsomething in his pocket.
Don’t ask me how I did it, but I bucked atjust the right moment. Something moved through me, controlling me,saving me. I shifted so hard to the side that the chair lost itsbalance and slammed into the edge of the table, upendingit.
It caught the guy’s side, and he slipped,jerking backward.
The knife slipped out of his grip and arcedthrough the air.
I watched it with a frozen heart as itlanded on its side and slid down the table.
I used all my strength to haul myself andthe chair to the left, aligning myself with the table.
Just at the right moment, I shifted back alittle and somehow caught the knife.
I caught the knife because I could seemyself doing it. And as I watched, I could do nothing butfollow.
Again, in a flash of dancing sparks, I sawan image over reality.
And I followed it. I followed it until thehilt of that glowing knife slipped into my grip.
The guy was picking himself up from behindthe table just as I twisted the knife around and cut through thetape tightly wrapped around my wrists. There was the unmistakableripping sound of tearing plastic. Then myhands were free, and in a deft movement I ripped the tape from mymouth.
I lurched off the chair, throwing my torsofree and grabbing the edge of the table just as the guy punched tohis feet.
I shoved the table with all my might, andone of its upturned legs caught him right on the kneecap.
His knee buckled and he fell backward,slamming into the floor with a rattling thump that shook every potand panarranged above thecooker.
Screaming, breathing with such an erratic,chest-shredding pace it felt like my lungs would explode, I twistedaround and slashed at the tape binding my legs.
Then I ran.
Though I wanted to make it to the frontdoor, something told me to head for the stairs instead.
There was a coat rack by the base of thestairs, and I grabbed it as I swung past,shoving it behind me.
The man growled as he caught it andelbowed it aside.
I stumbled up to the second floor.
I screamed.
God did I scream. I screamed at the top ofmy lungs with every ounce of vocal strength I could muster.
But he was still right behind me.
Still right behind me.
Though I could have headed to any number ofrooms on the second floor, I swung around and headed up to thethird floor instead.
Only one thing was going through my mind –get to the attic.
If I were fastenough, I’d be able to retract the stairs and lock themsomehow.
I could almost see myself reaching theattic. I could almost hear my feet pounding up the steps. I couldeven smell the slightly mustyscent of the air up there….
“Stop,”
