She screamed and flailed, trying to run, but she couldn’t see where she was going. She stumbled over the walk, her toe catching in one of the holes left from the uprooted flowers. She fell head first into the grass, skinning her knees and tearing her skirt. The birds swooped down on her instantly, claws and beaks everywhere. She scrambled to her feet, kicking off her shoes as she dashed to her SUV, but her purse was inside on the counter, and the SUV would be locked because she always locked it, just in case.
Like wasps, the ravens swarmed around her and all she could do was fight them off as she bolted back to the house, convinced the door would be locked against her, suspicious when it wasn’t. She slammed it hard when they tried to follow her in. One succeeded. The fat one that had seemed to speak.
Good God, she’d lost her mind.
She was panting, gasping and crying all at once. Her entire body shook with reaction. She leaned against the door, refusing to give into the insane fear that made her want to keep screaming.
“You’re safe, you’re safe,” she whispered, as if that would convince her that it was true. “Just one bird. It can’t hurt you.”
But it could, and they both knew it. The creature opened its beak in a macabre chuckle.
“Ha!” she shouted and stomped her foot at it.
The bird scuttled back a few steps but looked amused by her efforts to scare it. Suddenly, Maggie’s fear turned to rage. Whatever madness this was, she’d had enough. She forced herself forward, charging the stupid bird like she wasn’t terrified. It took flight, circling the vast living room. It perched on the chandelier that dangled in the foyer.
They’re mine. You can’t have them.
She didn’t know what that meant, but was pretty sure it had something to do with her sanity.
Maggie kept her eyes on the raven as she backed into the kitchen, bare feet damp and slippery on the tile. Without looking away from the vile raven—crow—whatever it was, she snatched her purse off the counter, holding it against her chest as she dug out her phone. Her hand shook so hard she had to enter her password twice. Blood welled up in the scratches on her arms and they stung like they’d been filled with acid. Her trembling finger hovered over the keypad. She wanted to dial nine-one-one, but what would she say to the emergency operator? Someone had closed her curtains, dug up her flowers and sent a flock of black birds to scare her? She’d probably end up arrested or committed. Maybe they’d give her the padded room next to Janet’s.
She wanted to breakdown and cry. She wanted to call Sam and tell him to come get her. He wouldn’t laugh at her, wouldn’t make her feel like she’d lost her mind. She knew that in a deep place that only spoke truth. But he didn’t even have a car anymore—at least not that he remembered—and she still felt leery about depending on him. It was too soon for that.
Besides, there was the whole Reaper Thing.
Yet her fingers moved, dialing the house phone since Sam didn’t have a cell anymore. It rang relentlessly until the machine picked up. Where was he? Fear curdled in her stomach. Had he vanished again just like last time? She tapped End and tried Lexi’s phone. It rang and rang without answer, too.
Fuck.
The vulgar word sounded strong in her head and it stiffened her spine. Still watching the raven on the chandelier, she moved to the window and aimed her key fob. The SUV’s lights flashed and the faint thunk of the locks releasing reached her ears. The birds on the lawn all turned their heads in unison, daring her to make a break. Her arms had a hundred scratches on them, her shirt had been torn, and her skirt was ripped up the seam in the back from when she’d fallen. The thought of going back out there, terrified her.
Don’t you know who we are, Miss Fancy Pants?
Cold sweat covered her body. Janet had called her that the day she’d warned Maggie that the family she loved wouldn’t be hers for long.
She shot a look at the big, black bird. It stared back with those round eyes, so intent that she wanted to scream again. In her mind, she plotted her escape route. She still didn’t know who had ripped out the flowers—the birds couldn’t have done that, right?—but whoever had could be in the house right now. Which would be worse? Claws and beaks.
... peck, peck, peck at your eyes ...
or whoever waited, hidden somewhere inside?
She didn’t know, but she couldn’t stay here.
With a deep breath, she moved to the hall where the laundry room opened into the garage. The bird shifted so it could watch her progress. It realized her destination too late. The big wings spread and the raven dove just as she stepped into the laundry room and shut the door. She heard the thud of its body as it bounced off the panels and onto the tile. Instantly, the beak poked under the gap at the floor.
She clapped her hand over her mouth and fumbled for the knob of the door behind her. The garage smelled of oil and paint. She stood on the cold concrete barefoot, wrecked and shaking all over. Purse clutched to her side, car keys firmly in hand, she pushed the button on the wall and started to run, braced for the attack. A scream was lodged somewhere in her throat; she couldn’t get it out and she couldn’t breathe around it.
Bending to slip under the lifting door, Maggie came out in sunshine, quiet ... and face-to-face with her stunned clients.
CHAPTER 15
Sam needn’t have worried about delaying his next move. The thing that stalked them had little patience. The smear that appeared against the wall took shape, then color. Horrified, he and Lexi watched as it solidified into human form. Justin had always referred to it as she. Now, he knew why.
Hazy around the edges, but undeniably female, the thing had long matted hair and wore tattered, bloody clothes. One side of its head had caved in, leaving gore and blood to streak what was left of its face and trail in rivulets down its throat. The blouse it had on might once have been blue, but dirt and blood had seeped into the fibers making it a rusted gray. Jeans still covered its hips and legs, but only shoe was on its feet. Every exposed inch of skin had wounds and withering flesh. Freshly dead, just as he'd suspected when he’d first caught its scent in Justin’s closet.
“Dad ...” Lexi said fearfully. “Do you see it?”
“I see it,” he answered grimly.
A spirit like any other he’d ferried to the other side, yet this one hadn’t made its journey and the why rode its shoulders like a cape. The demon was small and black, a slithering entity that had sunk deep talons into the spirit it held.
He didn’t understand that. If this female had bargained with her soul, the demon should have taken her back to its lair and feasted in the way demons were wont to do. Why was it here? What did it wait for?
“Dad,” Lexi said again, turning her face into his chest as his arms came around. “Is that mom?”
He would never know if it was the whimpered question ... his daughter’s fear ... or perhaps simply the moment of reckoning that did it, but suddenly the floodgates in his head opened up and all the memory that had hidden behind the blank slate of his brain burst forth. Images slammed against his mind in a rapid fire, out of order, nonsensical ... right up until the point when it all came together.
Janet—yes, it was her. It had always been her. She’d been released from the facility that had cared for her last year. He hadn’t known. By then he was married to Maggie. Janet had shown up at work, looking normal, sane ... wanting to see the children.
He knew the kids would never heal until they had some closure with her. He’d hoped that somehow the treatment she’d undergone had cured her. But she’d grown angry when he’d insisted she see them under supervision and left in a fury. For a few days, he’d hoped ... God how he’d hoped.
He hadn’t know that she’d found more than mental help in the hospital. She’d found a way to talk to the demons that had been in her head. She’d made a deal—a two-for-one bargain with the demon who lived off her soul now. She’d infected Sam with its corruption and it had begun to eat away his mind, making him erratic, psychotic, par
anoid—all of the symptoms Maggie and the kids remembered. He’d run away to escape and to protect them, just as the Reaper had suspected all along.
But he’d made a mistake. He’d come back and Janet had found him.
Sam staggered, pulling Lexi back with him as the final moments of his old life washed over him. Janet had lain in wait at his apartment, confronted him with a gun and shot him when he still refused to join her in the glory of the dark side. She’d planned the murder to the moment, knowing that this corrupted soul would be unable to resist the demon once the body was dead.
But she hadn’t killed Sam. And she hadn’t counted on a certain Reaper who’d kept them both alive.
His last memory before the hospital was of watching her get in his car and drive away while his blood drained onto the asphalt.
So how had she died? How had they come to this point?
He didn’t have time to find out. He needed to protect Lexi, get her out of this toxic place before the thing that Janet had become decided to use his daughter as a pawn. He pushed Lexi behind him, and stepped to the door just as it opened and Maggie limped in, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and stretchy pants. Angry scratches covered her arms and terror filled her eyes.
And Justin entered right behind her.
CHAPTER 16
There were too many things for Maggie to take in all at once. She saw Sam first, standing at the edge of the foyer, his face pale, his eyes wide with ... fear? Is that what she saw? Lexi was right behind him, clinging to his arm. She was definitely afraid, but of what? From outside, an engine revved as a car came around the corner and stopped in front of her house. She glanced back, saw Detectives Hartman and Bulldog get out, drawn expressions on their faces.
“Maggie,” Sam said. “Take Justin and go outside.”
“What’s goin—”
“Now, Maggie.”
“It’s her,” Justin cried.
Maggie looked down at Justin and followed the line of his gaze to a point on the stairs. And from there, all rational thought vanished.
An apparition stood halfway down. It was a woman dressed in ragged clothing, missing a shoe. She had long, straggly hair and a bloody face that had been bashed in on one side. Janet. She was filthy and stank of the same odor Maggie had smelled at the Scottsdale property.
Sam was inching his way to the door, Lexi still cowering behind him. When he drew even with Maggie, he said, “Get the kids out of here.”
And finally, Maggie topped over the edge into belief. He’d been telling the truth all along.
“You come with us,” she said.
Janet began to descend the stairs in an awkward gait that was neither walking nor floating. Each step seemed to require focus and skill. She could see the frustration in her eyes as she navigated the uneven stairway. Maggie’s stomach rolled as she watched the unnatural movements.
“Sam ...”
“She’s here for me, Maggie. She’s why I left.”
“You remember?”
He nodded, his eyes filled with agony. “There’s only one way to fight her,” he said softly.
The thing gave up on the stairs and moved to the wall, climbing it like a spider, its head twisted round so it could watch Sam as it circumvented the foyer, moving up and around in order to reach him.
It would be on them in seconds. Sam pulled Lexi out from behind him and shoved her at Maggie.
“Get out.”
“But what are you going to do?” she cried.
“She came for me,” he repeated and the look he gave her was filled with remorse. “The only way to keep her from you is to take her out.”
Reap her. That’s what he meant.
And suddenly Maggie knew what he planned. He’d said death would free him—free the reaper he’d been before he’d been trapped inside of her husband’s body. All the doubt she’d held—even after the birds, even after cleaning her wounds in the restroom at Target where she’d stopped for clothes so as not to alarm Justin when she picked him up—fled now as she understood.
Sam strode to the kitchen, giving one last command over his shoulder. “Out, Maggie. I don’t want you or the kids to see this.”
The children. Yes, she had to protect them. But how could she let Sam do this? She loved him. Whatever he’d been, whatever he’d become ... she loved who he was now.
“Sam,” she cried as the creature crawled overhead, following him like a nightmare dog. She pulled the kids backwards, out the open door, sobbing, unable to think beyond the tragedy that was unfolding right before her eyes. The children were hysterical, crying for their father.
“What’s he doing? What’s he going to do—”
“Mrs. Sloan?” a voice asked sharply.
She and the kids spun to see the detectives right behind them. Hartman took one look at their faces and pulled his gun.
“No,” she cried, but he and Bulldog had already charged through the door. “Stay here,” she told Lexi and Justin as she followed.
What happened next, she’d never understand, yet some part of her brain catalogued the sequence and documented what she saw. The two detectives entered, weapons drawn and ready. Sam was in the kitchen, a butcher knife in his hand. He meant to kill himself with that blade and Maggie screamed at the horror and wrongness of it. The thing that had once been Janet was pinned to the wall, watching him with greedy eyes, unaware of the end that raced toward them all. Maggie saw something shifting around Janet’s shoulders like a black shawl. She didn’t know what it was.
“Hands in the air, Sloan. Drop the knife,” Bulldog shouted, obviously mistaking Sam as a threat to Maggie and the kids.
He didn’t see the creature on the wall. Maggie knew because he didn’t even glance at it. Hartman, though, stared with wide, aghast eyes.
In a moment that was frozen for uncountable heartbeats, Sam shifted his gaze to Maggie. “I love you,” he said. “I finally know what that means.”
The Janet-thing shrieked with rage and jumped at Sam. Maggie saw decision flash through his eyes. In an instant, he’d turned to the cops and charged with the knife held out in front of him, forcing their hand.
Hartman shouted, “No,” just as Bulldog pulled the trigger, once ... twice ... three times.
Sam’s body slammed back into the island, knife falling from his hand. His eyes began to glaze and he turned to Maggie once more as she tried to rush forward. Hartman caught her around the waist and held her back.
Something darkly silver emerged from Sam’s body like a cool mist on a dusky night. The thing that was Janet shrieked again, this time in terror. It turned in a scuttling circle and tried to get away, but the misty cloak found her, covered her ... reaped her.
“What the fuck,” Hartman said as Bulldog went down on his knees in front of Sam’s body, pulling out a phone and calling for emergency medical support as he tried to staunch the blood.
The black cloak around Janet’s shoulders separated and vanished like smoke in the wind. A moment later, the mist had dissipated, taking Janet and the stench of death with it.
CHAPTER 17
The Reaper tucked himself in shadow at the back of the room, weighed with emotions no Reaper had ever felt before. Sam Sloan lay on the bed, his skin the color of paste. He should be dead, but machine’s kept his body breathing. The Reaper knew Maggie was to blame for that. She’d insisted.
A doctor came in—the second one in the past hour. Maggie had sat beside this bed since they’d wheeled Sam out of surgery, not moving even when the two detectives had come to see her.
Hartman had witnessed what had happened at the house, though he didn’t speak of it. The Reaper knew he never would. The other detective had no clue, but he was riddled with guilt once Maggie explained that Sam had acted in self defense, believing his family was in danger. The wound to his head, she’d told them, had made him act irrationally.
The two had come to tell them that they’d found Janet Sloan’s body in a ravine near Camelback Mountain. The coroner had ve
rified that the time of death had been during the long days when Sam had been recovering from the gunshot wound, in the hospital under round-the-clock surveillance, an ironclad alibi. They’d determined that Janet had killed herself, staging the suicide so that her body would plummet to the ravine in death. She’d probably thought it would disguise the self inflicted nature of her wounds.
Maggie had calmly thanked them for seeing the case through and wished them a good day. They’d left with questions, but there was no way to ask them.
“Mrs. Sloan,” the doctor said now. “I know this is difficult. Sam’s recovery before was a miracle, but this time ...” He shook his head. “There’s no brain activity. Before he was breathing on his own and—”
“No,” she said. “I won’t do it. He’ll come back to me. I know he will.”
The Reaper smiled and the heart he shouldn’t have swelled at her stubbornness. The doctor left and Maggie turned her gaze to his corner. He remembered the first time he saw those fascinating eyes. He’d been entranced from the start.
“I don’t know if you’re there,” she said. “But I’m not going to leave until they drag me out.”
He stepped forward and her gaze snapped to him, though he knew she couldn’t actually see him. The first time, she’d been disquieted by his presence. Now, he sensed hope.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried to tell me the truth. I didn’t know ... I didn’t understand. But I saw what you did for us, Sam. You gave yourself to keep us safe. Now come back to me. I love you. Please come back to me.”
Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 70
