“Ah,” Theodosia said. “I see you’re learning the ropes.”
Kaitlin lifted her chin. “I really want to work here with Aunt Brooke when I finish school. I think it would be inspiring to be surrounded by such beautiful things all day long.”
“Are you interested in jewelry design, too?” Theodosia asked. Brooke was a terrific designer. Her forte was sterling silver free-form bracelets and earrings. And she sometimes crafted enormous knuckle-duster rings with gemstones wrapped in thin strands of gold wire, like enticing little packages.
“I’m taking a couple of design classes right now,” Kaitlin said. Her eyes roved the shop, taking in the packed house, the busy buffet table, and her aunt Brooke, who was suddenly smiling and waggling her fingers in Kaitlin’s direction. “Oops, gotta get back to work.”
“Hey, Brooke,” Theodosia said, raising a hand.
Brooke waved back. She was midfifties, yet athletically built, with a sleek mane of snow-white hair. Though she was juggling about a million details tonight, she still looked calm and in charge.
Kaitlin tried to push her way through the crowd, then hit an impasse as three women started jumping up and down and screaming over a canary yellow diamond bracelet. She changed course and headed toward the front of the shop, circling around the largest of the glass jewelry cases.
Theodosia’s eyes followed Kaitlin as she cut across the shop, then Theodosia turned back to talk to Haley. Just as she was about to ask Haley if she should duck into the shop’s small office and brew a couple more pots of tea, there was a sudden, earsplitting crack.
“What was that?” Haley’s pale brows knit together. “Is there a storm coming?”
Startled, figuring some hapless soul had fallen headlong into one of the glass cases, Theodosia glanced quickly about the shop. Only to find herself stunned by what she saw.
The plate glass window at the front of the shop was suddenly bending inward, as if an F5 tornado were bearing down full force. A millisecond later, a spiderweb of cracks appeared. Then, like a knife slicing through butter, the shiny chrome grille of a black SUV shoved its way right through the showroom window.
Shards of glass flew everywhere, nicking and slashing the guests. Surprised cries turned into terrified screams as everyone lurched and fought to get out of the way. Even more frightening was the enormous black truck that relentlessly powered its way into the shop, all cylinders firing, its engine roaring like a runaway locomotive.
Reacting to the onslaught, Theodosia reached a hand out, fumbled for the top of Haley’s head, and shoved her to the floor. More screams erupted as the SUV continued to accelerate and grind its way into the shop.
Like special effects in an action flick, two more panels of glass exploded inward like a hail of bullets. Everyone shrieked in terror again and Theodosia felt the sting of glass and plaster rain down upon the back of her neck.
Gripping Haley’s hand now, Theodosia pulled her along as the two of them, on hands and knees, scrambled for refuge behind the counter at the rear of the store. Constructed of wood and metal, with only the front done in glass, Theodosia figured it might offer some protection versus the all-glass cases.
“What’s . . . ?” Haley began. She was anxious to pop up and take a quick look.
“Stay down,” Theodosia ordered. “Keep moving.” Once they’d made their way to the back counter, where they were virtually hidden, she said, “Now roll into a ball and cover your head.”
“But what about . . . ?”
“Please just do it,” Theodosia said. She knew this was a bad situation. People were injured and screaming for help. Loud, angry shouts added to the din, and glass was still exploding like mad. Slowly, carefully, fearful of what she might see, Theodosia peered around the end of the counter.
The jewelry shop was pure chaos, a war zone. The black SUV had rammed all the way into the shop, its throaty motor still rumbling. Slivers of glass lay everywhere while people crouched on their hands and knees, cut and bleeding. The truck’s blast through the front windows had literally pulverized the jewelry cases in front and brought along a rush of cool air.
Theodosia’s first thoughts were Who’s hurt? and How can I help? Then her gaze shifted and she found herself staring directly into the blazing eyes of a red demon.
But no, the more rational part of her brain told her it was someone, a person, wearing a hideous demon mask. A terrorist? Here in little old Charleston?
Quick as a snapping turtle’s bite, two more demons tumbled out of the black truck, all dressed head to toe in black clothing and looking like hellish clowns in some bizarre circus act.
“Down! Down! Everybody down!” one of the demons screamed.