Immortal Unchained(14)

Sarita took a couple more steps, candle held out in front of her, and squinted against the flame while trying to see beyond it. She then slowed as a scene from an old black-and-white movie she'd once seen came to mind. A lone woman in a long white nightgown descending stairs into darkness with only a candle to light her way. Meanwhile the evil Dracula waited in the darkness below, ready to pounce on her.

Yeah, good one, Sarita. The perfect thing to think of at this moment, she reprimanded herself mentally as she continued down. Her Dracula was supposed to be chained up down there, but what if he'd got loose?

Sarita quickly pushed that thought away as unhelpful and continued down. She couldn't see any more than a couple steps ahead, and didn't need old movies to help her imagine what lay ahead. Still, other scenes from movies were suddenly sliding through her mind. All of them were just different versions of that one scene in every horror movie where the stupid chick did something incredibly idiotic that got her stabbed or horribly beheaded.

That thought made Sarita stop abruptly on the stairs as she realized she really was being like that idiot broad from every horror movie. The big-haired twit with large bouncy boobs and no brains usually in something skimpy and-Cripes! She had big hair, big boobs, and was wearing a see-through negligee! She was that girl!

Nah, her hair was long, not really big. It wasn't curled to within an inch of its life and hair-sprayed to death. And yeah, she had big boobs, but that was hardly her fault. They were natural not bought, and truly, her large breasts had been the bane of her existence since they'd popped out on her chest when she was thirteen. Their presence had not gone unnoticed by the boys in her school and what had followed was teasing, taunting, and attempts to cop a feel by the more skeevy of her schoolmates. They were the reason behind her first punching a male in the face. She had punched many more since then, both on and off the job, which was why her partner at work called her Rock'em Sock'em Reyes, or just RSR for short.

Sarita smiled crookedly at the thought of Jackson, her patrol partner. He was a good guy. Newly married and madly in love with his wife, he often treated her like a little sister. He was the closest thing she had to family now and just thinking of him made her straighten her shoulders. Big-boobed twit or not, she was going down there. Besides, unlike the idiot chicks in movies, she was armed with more than double Ds. She had a knife and knew how to use it. Mind you her gun would have been more reassuring, but . . . Whatever, Sarita thought as she stepped down onto a cold hard floor and paused.

She stood still for a moment, just listening, but there was no slight shuffling as someone moved in the darkness, no hiss of a vampire about to launch himself on her.

Nothing, she thought, and let go of the breath she'd been holding to suck a draft of fresh air into her eager lungs.

Okay, not so fresh, she corrected herself, wrinkling her nose at the stale, damp scent that assailed her. The basement definitely had a moldy odor to it. Sarita shifted one bare foot along the floor and then lowered the candle until she could see that it was indeed concrete and not simply hard packed earth.




 

 

Straightening, she glanced around, hoping her eyes might have adjusted enough for her to make out something in the dark. They hadn't, though, so she shuffled forward several feet until the candlelight revealed a wall with a door in it. Releasing the hold she'd had on her gown, she reached for the doorknob.

The clank of metal on metal as the knife handle banged against the knob made her wince, but Sarita turned it and pushed the door open.

The candle flickered wildly in the draft created by the opening door. Terrified it would go out, Sarita instinctively drew it closer to her chest and raised her butcher-knife-holding-hand to try to shelter the flame. She didn't know if that helped, but after a moment the candlelight settled again and she let out the breath she'd been holding on a relieved sigh that blew the damned thing out.

"Crap!" Sarita muttered into the darkness, nearly spitting out the two matches she'd placed between her lips. Reaching up instinctively to remove them, she poked herself in the cheek with the butcher knife and was so startled she dropped the candle, holder and all. Sarita then immediately froze as the dark seemed to crowd in on her, sending a prickly sensation along her skin.

Trying to ignore it, Sarita took a deep breath and reasoned with herself. The candle had gone out and she'd dropped it and now it was dark. Not a big problem. She had matches. She'd light one, find the candle, and light it again. Boom, problem solved, she told herself.

The minute Sarita reached up with her now-empty candle hand and took one of the matches from her mouth she felt a little better. Even the match would give off light. All she had to do was strike it on something. It would light and she'd use it to find the candle. Everything would be fine, Sarita reasoned . . . except that she hadn't brought the matchbox with its striking strip on the side.