“Fool,” he whispered, but his flat eyes were alive now. “Who sent you?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. The pressure came back over my eyes and my ears. He was getting inside my head again. As the stinging spread inside my scalp, the darkness began to whirl around me. I felt myself drawing back, separating from reality.
I didn’t know how to fight this way. How was I supposed to defend myself? I couldn’t even move.
Samrael smiled. His grip was crushing my throat. I still couldn’t get enough air. “You know, for a moment there I thought you weren’t pitiful. I guess I was wrong, pitiful Gideon.” He angled his head slowly, left and then right. “But you’re not scared, are you? How about now?”
His smile went wider. No … it was his mouth. His mouth pushed forward, forward, forward, elongating into a muzzle or … a beak? What was it? A snout?
His skin curdled into worn leather as his skull reshaped. His eyes pulled back, sloping, the black irises stirring, lighting with something dark inside. I saw a sea of torment in his eyes. Cries of anguish, fear, and weakness writhed there. I heard howling, and begging, and—
Enough. What are you? What the hell are you? Are you an animal?
“Not animal,” Samrael said. “Worse.”
Monster.
“That’s closer.”
“Hey, asshole. You need to let go of my brother.”
My consciousness lurched back into the apartment. My sister appeared in my peripheral vision. She was holding a baseball bat.
Why wasn’t she reacting to Samrael’s horrific appearance? Why wasn’t anyone reacting?
Samrael looked at Anna. “Sure thing,” he said mockingly. He released me. In an instant his features shifted back to normal. He was just a guy again. With a split lip leaking blood that was just a little too dark, like wine.
I took the bat from Anna. “Get out,” I rasped.
I still wasn’t completely myself but I had every intention of attacking if he didn’t leave. Taking a life was something I’d been preparing myself for, as a soldier. But I’d never imagined it happening this way. With a bat, in front of my sister.
Samrael turned to the front door. Ronwae, the redhead, stood there breathing hard. “She’s gone. I looked everywhere,” she said, her voice chiseled with an accent I didn’t recognize. She disappeared into the hallway.
A mild look of disappointment crossed Samrael’s face, like he’d been told he’d just gotten a parking ticket. He followed her, but hesitated at the door. “Whatever you do, Gideon, whatever you think you can do”—he opened his hands and showed me emptiness, futility—“it won’t matter,” he said, and he was gone.
I looked at my sister and struggled to find words. I’d been submerged in that consuming darkness and it still hadn’t fully left me. I was still kicking for the surface.
“Your hand,” Anna said.
I looked down. The knuckles of my right hand were already swollen and red. Pretty alarmingly. I had no idea how I was gripping the bat. The pain blared like a car alarm that wouldn’t stop but my injury was a second-level concern.
“You okay?” I asked.
Anna shook her head. “I guess? More than you are. Who was that guy?”
“Whose bat is this?”
“What? It’s Taylor’s.”
“I need to borrow it,” I said. Then I shot out of the apartment.
I shouldn’t have pursued. I had a serious injury. And I’d just seen a person-monster. But the enemy was retreating and I just couldn’t let that shit go. I flew out of the complex and hit the sidewalk at a sprint. Anger roared inside me, clearing my thoughts and propelling me forward, but I slowed down as I reached the street.
It was deserted. I didn’t see any college kids strolling around. Both the parking lot and the housing complex were dead quiet. All I heard were my running shoes scuffing the pavement and my lungs pumping oxygen.
When I reached the edge of the parking lot, I stopped. There was something strange about how heavy the darkness seemed. How thick. The streetlamps curving down the hill were weak points of light, and I couldn’t even see the main road below. No sign of Samrael.
Okay, Blake. Take a second.
I set the bat down. My quads twitched. My right hand had developed its own heartbeat. Broken bones in there, I was sure. Nice. Added some fresh fractures to the list of things I had to deal with. I heard the squeal of cats fighting somewhere close. Because of me? Definitely possible.
Now what?
Anna would be worried. I should head back. But I was tempted to walk to the nearest psych clinic and turn myself in.
What had I just seen?
“Gideon.”
I launched two feet off the blacktop.
My Jeep. The voice had come from my Jeep, which was parked just down the street. Was that—?
Yeah. It was. Standing on the driver’s seat, propped on the roll bar like she’d been there for a while, was the girl. Daryn.
“How are you in my Jeep?” I asked, walking up. That was a mix of the two questions that fired off in my head.