Insidious(88)

A strangled gasp next to me fought off the darkness threatening to overwhelm my vision. I could barely manage to move my eyes in the direction. Blaine. Blood masked most of his face, but he was still alive. Barely. Just as his eyes fluttered shut, two bright flashes illuminated the inside of the pulverized cabin.

Something shattered on the other side of Blaine. I tried cocking my head, only I couldn’t. More glass splayed out onto my lap. What was left of the driver’s window had just been obliterated. Shadows lurked from outside, but I couldn’t make them out. What I could though…

A gigantic blade gleamed in the limited moonlight.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.”





I shot up from the mattress, hands clasped around my throat as I awoke with a violent gasp. Reese startled awake at the sound, and he was at the bedside in an instant. My breathing was so fast and hard, I was practically choking on the air.

“Hey.” Reese’s voice was low and unnaturally gentle as he brushed away the sweaty locks of hair plastered to my face. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sitting beside me on the mattress, he wrapped his arms around me, continuing to hum the words until my breathing slowed and the threat of wrenching subsided.

“He was still alive,” I rasped. “Blaine…someone did that to him after the accident.”

“Did what?” Reese whispered.

“He was decapitated.”

His breathing faltered. “Come again?”

“Blaine,” I muttered. “I overheard at the funeral that his head got taken clean off…along with other things.”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s what Danielle told her friends, and her dad’s a police sergeant. So if anybody would know-” I shook my head in disbelief. “Who would do that?”

“The question’s not who, but rather why? Someone’s clearly out to make an army of Hellhounds. Why kill a perfectly good specimen?”

Whether the room was actually cold or not, I wasn’t entirely sure, but a chill had sunken deep into my bones. Laughter. It had been coming from outside the car. Whoever had butchered Blaine had been laughing.



***



I stirred, my eyes burning through the frightening images of my dream state. It took me another second to realize that I was alone. I’d woken up briefly an hour ago to find an arm draped over me, holding me close as I lay nestled on my side. It was the first time I’d seen Reese’s hands without his gloves on. His fingers were long and slender and rather elegant, like that of a pianist.

I turned over, greeted by nothing now but a cold bed sheet. Soft taps clanked in the distance, which I figured was Mom probably fiddling with the coffeemaker from the kitchen. Grabbing the tops of the covers draped over my torso, I was about to pull them up further when the theme from Dracula suddenly blasted from the nightstand. Receiving texts now had become a new fear of mine, but I breathed a sigh of relief to see Reese’s name on the screen.

“I’ll be back to pick you up.”

Remaking the bed wound up taking me longer than going through my morning routine. Mom was rather anal about the order in which her accent pillows had to be arranged for each bedroom, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember it. Feng Shui was the least of my problems, so I eventually forfeited and just tossed the pillows at random. I just finished slipping on my shoes when my phone rang.

“Hey, I’m out front,” announced Reese on the other end of the call.

“Seriously? Now? It’s not even six thirty.”

Sure enough, the unmistakable throaty purr of the truck’s engine resonated from the driveway.

My stomach dropped. “Wait, don’t—”

Too late. He’d ended the call. I tried redialing, but he didn’t answer.

Not good.

I grabbed my jacket and bolted out into the hallway when the doorbell rang. Just as I reached the top of the stairs, Mom’s heels clacked across the foyer.

“I’ve got it,” I called out. “It’s for me.”

My stomach lurched as I heard the front door open. I made it to the bottom of the landing just in time to see Mom’s eyes bore down at Reese like she’d just found a flee-infested mutt on her front steps.

Her smile was devoid of any genuine pleasantry as she asked, “Can I help you?”

Reese flashed a smile of his own, a very warm, boyish grin. “Hi, I’m here to pick up Kat. You must be her mother.” He extended his hand, awaiting a handshake he quickly realized wouldn’t be returned. “I’m Reese. Reese Blackburn—”

“I know who you are,” Mom said curtly. Her eyes gave him a second look-over, and any pretense of a smile vanished as they settled on his jacket. He was wearing the one I’d returned to him, the same one I had worn to the country club. “What business do you have with my daughter?”