Insidious(105)

He pounced forward and I swung Reese’s blade as hard as I could, hearing him howl. Trace staggered back, pressing his fingers tightly into his palm. Blood seeped out. It may have only been a scratch, but hell, it was better than nothing.

Trace’s eyes flashed an all too familiar yellow, and a low, guttural growl rose from the back of his throat as his canine teeth lengthened. He lunged at me.

Not good.

I frantically flung the sword up at him, and it cut into his arm, but he didn’t stop. Trace’s hands were suddenly clasped around my throat as he slammed my body against the wall. Tiles broke all around me, and my vision blackened from the devastating impact to my head. I tried keeping hold of Reese’s blade, but the impact rattled me hard enough that it fell from my fingers. Metal clamored behind us, and glass shattered somewhere else, but I couldn’t make anything out.

A sickly squishing sound suddenly filled the quieted space, and Trace immediately dropped me. My vision recovered just as he turned around. Reese’s dagger. It was buried in the left side of his back.

“You,” he sneered. Bolton knelt down, revealing the culprit. Mark was crumpled on his knees, still struggling to regain his own breath. Trace grabbed him in one fell swoop by the neck, prying him right off the floor. McDowell was sent catapulting across the room, his body airborne before he plummeted into the water.

“How’d you like me now?” gritted Carly. Trace barely managed to turn as a heavy metallic wallop reverberated across the space. His features fell in confusion, traveling down to the blonde’s hands. She brought up the fire extinguisher again, nailing him square in the face. The hit literally spun him around, and he toppled over right into the pool. “Bastard.”

Mark broke the surface of the water, still on the other end of the lanes. “What the hell happened?” he gasped, seeing blood fanning out across the water where Trace’s motionless body bobbed.

I left Carly to explain as I hurried over to the bleachers, shaking Reese’s frame. He groaned as he came to, his hand immediately pinning to his shoulder. Trace wasn’t the only one bleeding. Reese’s shoulder was drenched, and I could see the mutilated flesh peeking out between the slashed fabric of his jacket.

“I’m okay,” he assured, woozily climbing up to his feet.

“Don’t scare me like that,” I sighed, planting a kiss to his cheek. We ambled down from the bleachers, but we both froze.

“Get out of the water,” Reese muttered.

Carly and Mark turned to us, and now I was screaming.

“Get out of the water!”

Trace’s tanned body was lost beneath a growing black mass of fur developing under the water. He was shifting!





Chapter 29

Mama





I grabbed Carly’s hand, forcing her to follow us as we all bolted to the other side of the pool. “Mark, get out!”

A snarling muzzle roared as it breached the surface of the water, and all the blood drained from Mark’s face. He immediately plunged under, sculling beneath the lane dividers. His head reemerged not two feet from us, and we all reached for him. The black mass of fur shot through the water and charged the surface like a great white. The hound’s teeth were as equally ferocious, each canine at least three inches long. Everyone grabbed hold of Mark’s arms, hauling him up. We all fell back on the sidelines, losing our footing as the hound’s muzzle sprang up onto the tile.

“Holy shit!” Mark thrashed the heel of his foot, clocking the impending beast right in the snout. He scuttled back just far enough to evade the snapping jaws as they repeatedly clamped together, the curved canines begging to tear through flesh down to the very bone. The hound’s slick paws slipped on the tiling, unable to haul its body up onto the poolside. It continued snapping up at us, only to slip back under the water.

I grabbed Mark’s arm. “Come on!”

We climbed back to our feet, hearing tiles shatter behind us as we bolted for the nearest door. Trace had found his way out of the water. Reese yanked the heavy metal door open, and the four of us piled into the locker room. The hound struck the closing door in full force, inadvertently slamming it shut in the process. Razor sharp claws tore into the barrier, unable to pry it back open. Howling and thrashing resonated from the other side of the door, and we all bolted through the aisles of lockers to the side exit. Mark ransacked the shower rack, snatching up a handful of bath towels on our way out. His waterlogged sneakers squished and squeaked with every step, forcing him to abandon them not ten feet into the hall.

Footsteps galloped from an adjoining passage. We pressed our backs to the wall, trying best to melt into the darkness as we slid over to the stairwell. Mark cursed under his breath, seeing the blatant trail of water he was leaving behind. A guy called out down the corridor, and we all froze. Laughter immediately followed.