A WHISPER OF ETERNIT

Page 152



Standing alone now, Petrina screamed again.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Dominic beckoned to her. "Come," he said, "let us end it now."
Laslostaggered to his feet and grabbed Petrina by the arm. "Let's go," he urged. "He's too strong for us." "No!"

Laslotugged on her arm again. "Someone's coming!"

With a wordless cry of frustration, Petrina glared at Dominic as she lifted the lifeless Zarabeth into her arms and then melted into the shadows. Franco lurched to his feet, picked up Turk, and followed Petrina and Franco down the street.

Dominic staggered into the alley, hiding in the shadows as a patrol car passed by. He stood there, panting heavily, while blood flowed from his wounds.
He needed to find shelter.

He needed blood.

He neededTracy .

Tracysat in the living room, a blanket drawn over her legs. Earlier, she had turned on the TV for company, but she was only vaguely aware of what was going on. She'd had a feeling of impending doom ever since Dominic left the house. Time and again she stared at the clock on the mantel, willing the minutes to hurry by, willing him to return to her.

Something had gone wrong. She knew it without knowing how she knew, knew it with such certainty it made her sick to her stomach.

She glanced atBryan , sleeping soundly on the sofa. Once, she had tried to wake him up, but, caught in whatever spell Dominic had put on him, he had mumbled something about walls and turned over, oblivious to her presence.

"Dominic."

She fell asleep with his name on her lips.

She woke with a start. Frowning, she opened her eyes and glanced around, wondering what it was that had awakened her.Bryan was still asleep on the sofa. The voice of an early morning talk show host droned from the television set. Thinking it must have been the TV that awakened her, she closed her eyes, only to open them again as a faint scratching sound reached her ears. At first, she thought it was only the leaves brushing against the side of the house. And then it came again, louder this time. Someone, or something, was scratching at the front door.

Filled with trepidation, she rose to her feet and padded barefoot toward the foyer. "Is someone there?"