"She's not just running late." Leaving Summer to follow, he strode from the restaurant. They'd just reached the parking lot when a text came through. He didn't recognize the number but the message chilled him.
Got him but he's got her. OMW. Hope you're closer.
* * *
Sweat soaked the back of Lily's shirt and her forearm cramped, she'd been clutching her needles so long. Katt hadn't made a sound in forever, but she knew he hadn't left. Whatever he wanted from her, he wasn't going to walk away without taking it. She flexed her fingers around the needles. Or without trying to take it.
If he didn't make a move soon, she was going to scream.
"He has a gun," she mumbled, four words she'd repeated so many times she'd lost count. Whenever she began to talk herself into bursting from the unlocked bathroom to make a run for the door, she repeated the reminder.
Katt had a gun. She had knitting needles. Her best shot of disabling him would be a close-range strike. If only he'd fucking do something.
As though he'd been waiting for his stage cue, Katt announced his return by rattling the doorknob. Heart hammering in her throat, Lily rose to a low crouch. Katt pushed the door open and angled toward the sink, where she was no longer tied. She catalogued details in some odd slow-motion scope. He'd removed his mask, exposing an oddly purple-tinged face. He wore boots. He held a glass phallus in his right hand. He did not hold a gun.
The dildo was worse.
"Bitch," he growled, and whirled toward her.
That was her chance, the only one she had. Forcing her icy muscles to respond, Lily sprang from her crouch and stabbed her fist at him in an under-handed punch.
In books, the killing blow always came in slow motion, but there was nothing slow about this. She pierced air and then flesh, and for a second, they were so close she could smell something rotten about him, but then blood gushed onto her hand and the shock of the black flow kicked her instincts into gear. The muscles in her hand went lax and she flung herself away from the unnatural sight.
Katt howled and dropped the phallus. He sank to his knees, driving her needles deeper. As he did, something started moving in the black blood. A lot of somethings, all scurrying through the thick liquid like frantic swimmers, and bile shot to her throat.
She started to press her hand to her mouth, but her fingers were sticky and black. With a moan, she averted her eyes, blanked her mind, and climbed over the screaming man with his tiny, scurrying spiders.
Somehow, she got across the store. Gasping for breath between sobs, she exploded from the shop only to slam into a wall. Strong arms banded around her, pinning her elbows to her sides. He whipped around, propelling both of them away from the door. This time, she knew the owner of that heat and strength, and instead of stiffening up, she sagged against him.
After a brief, breath-stealing squeeze, Jude shocked her by pushing her away. He snarled. "Where is he?"
Lily looked up to find his expression hard, his eyes ferocious. His features weren't entirely human and as she watched, the skin over his cheekbones and brow seemed to stretch. The casual fall of his hair grew a little wilder, a little darker. A shiver slid down her spine. Reminded that this man was more than, she inhaled deeply and straightened her shoulders. A sense of calm washed through her, carrying power with it.
"Inside. I … stabbed him," she said, surprised at her steady voice. She parted her lips to say more but as her mind shied away from the details of her violent encounter, she realized calm and power only went so far.
Closing her mouth, she raised her arm and pointed into the shop. As she opened her fist, her fingers felt stiff and sticky. The details she wanted to avoid came rushing back, filling her ears with a deafening sound. Dark shadows danced in her peripheral vision. As she swayed, Jude's hand shot out. Careless of the black slime that had begun to crust her skin, he caught her wrist in a hard, borderline painful grip and mouthed two words.
Her hearing came back all of a sudden, in time to catch his demanded, " … this?"
She shuddered and looked away. The last of the devilish shades vanished into the store. Men, not the marks of an impending blackout. Except maybe the last one. His skin was the color of pitch and he had wings folded up against his naked back. "I stabbed him. This came out. And more."
As she spoke, unable to keep the horror from her mind any longer, an itching, crawling sensation settled in. She reached up to claw at her forearm, leaving long streaks where her nails dug.
The more she thought about it, the more she itched, and a sob escaped. She started scratching the back of her neck, her chest, and didn't realize she was speaking until Jude caught her free hand and held it away from her body.