No Fear

by Allie Harrison

  Glenda stood perfectly still and stared at it, afraid to move, terrified to even breathe. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. If there was any time she ever needed anyone—Quinn—to hear her psychic plea, it was now. She called out to Quinn to come help her. She heard no reply, and there was no sudden knocking on her door to tell her someone had come to her rescue.

  Glenda turned toward the back door. She was about to make a dash for it when a soft rattling sound touched the stillness that filled the room, except for the pounding of her heart. Slowly, Glenda took a step toward the back door, around her small secondhand kitchen table.

  Coiled on the floor in front of the door, blocking her way out, was a rattlesnake with gray and black diamond shaped markings down its length.

  To hell with this, she thought. She was getting out of here, right now. Her heart raced like a thoroughbred. It must have grown, too, for her chest felt so tight, she couldn’t breathe. She fought her fear as she never had before. True, she was terrified of the slithering reptiles, but she couldn’t let them defeat her. She had her own place, she had her art, and she had Quinn. She had so many dreams. For the first time in a long time, she felt strong and capable and wanted to experience everything life had to offer.

  She reached for one of her two kitchen chairs with every intention of throwing it through the front window to give herself an exit, not caring in the least how many hours she would have to work to pay to replace it. She didn’t see the snake coiled around one of the rungs on the back of the chair until it unfolded and wrapped itself around her right wrist.

  Her scream was automatic and instinctive. The chair hit the floor with a thud. The snake stayed wrapped around her wrist. Glenda tried to shake it off as she pealed one scream after another. She managed to shake it loose, but not until it managed to sink its two fangs into her arm just below her elbow.

  Her screams stopped. Her shock was simply too great. Mixed with her terror and disbelief, her thought process slowed to a crawl. A strange, guttural sound came from her that was a cross between a groan and whimper. Her breaths, too, sounded loud in the room as her quick intakes of air whistled in and out of her throat. She stared at her arm for a long moment, looking at the tiny holes made from the bite. She had no idea whether this snake was poisonous. She did know that poisonous snakes had fangs. But poisonous or not, she still knew she was in trouble, yet she couldn’t seem to think far enough to get her body to move or react to anything.

  Poison, there was probably snake poison flowing through her. And she couldn’t stop it. The thought made her heart pound painfully, pumping the poison through her faster.

  She no longer needed to just get out of the duplex. She needed an ambulance. She needed a hospital with antivenom medicine. There was no doubt it wasn’t to be found in the small clinic on Medusa’s Island. Her mouth was so dry, the air that she sucked in sounded like the rattle sounds she heard all around her. Her chest grew tighter.

  Glenda fought the dizziness that grabbed her. In a matter of a few seconds, since she’d been bitten on the arm, the number of snakes in the room went from three or four to a hundred or more. All around her, the room moved and slithered. The snakes crawled over one another. They slithered about the furniture and up the drapes, the hissing sounds they created making a constant high-pitched siren throughout the small house.

  The phone was still on the table where she’d set it moments before.

  Had it only been mere moments since she had heard her mother’s voice?

  Glenda reached for the phone, ignoring the small gray and black creature that looked like a rope. It bit her on the hand. She flicked it away and it landed on a pile of others near her feet. She felt the sharp pang of pain as another snake bit her ankle through her jeans.

  In the horror that engulfed her, she couldn’t comprehend enough to dial a number, much less remember the numbers in their correct order. She simply hit the redial button. And ironically, her mother’s phone number was the last number called, so the phone automatically redialed that number.

  “Hello?” Her mother’s voice crackled into her ear after only one ring.

  Glenda opened her mouth to talk, but could not make any words come out. All she managed was more of the groan-whimper sound she pushed through her vocal cords.

  “Glenda, now I know this is you, your number’s on my caller ID. Say something.”

  Glenda tried. She really did.

  “Glenda, what is the matter with you? Say something,” her mother insisted. “Did you find that mouse?”

  No, something far worse, Glenda wanted to say, but couldn’t, just as she wanted to suddenly laugh, although there was no reason to laugh.

  There was more pain, as another snake bit her leg behind her left knee. She almost fell down.

  “Snakes . . . Snakes . . .” Glenda managed. “Biting me . . .”

  Then another snake struck at her, biting her at her right hipbone. She stumbled away and fell over backward as her feet and legs tangled in the mass of slithering reptiles behind her. She was on the floor then, and they were on her in an instant. But Glenda no longer felt them or saw them.

  Glenda felt nothing and saw nothing at all, not anymore.

  Chapter Seven

  More Questions, Few Answers

  James sat on the floor in front of the fire. There were two empty ice cream bowls on the coffee table. Much to his surprise, Emma had chosen a movie about a prize boxer drawn out of retirement. Yet, she didn’t really appear interested. She moved about his living room, studying the books on his shelves and questioning some of his antiques and his art. Her trip outside into the dark had left her antsy and seemingly full of energy. She didn’t say much, but she looked around with new interest.

  James liked the new emotion he saw in her eyes.

  “When did you move to the island?” she asked.

  “Five years ago,” he said without hesitation, watching her for a reaction and noting very little. Just as he liked the emotion in her eyes, he liked the sound of interest in her questions. “There seemed to be a lull in the real estate, and it wasn’t too expensive. I liked this place. I also needed to get out of Chicago, and there was a vacancy for a police chief, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

  “Why did you need to get out of Chicago?” she asked without looking at him. She picked up yet another leather-bound book from the shelf and idly leafed through the pages.

  Besides the fact that he was called here because of the evil he felt, he’d killed two vampires, two very strong, very bad vampires with many followers. It had been time to leave and lay low for a while.

  “A cop in Chicago with too many enemies makes it dangerous for the entire department,” he replied, not really feeling as if he told her a lie.

  His answer satisfied her.

  “Emma?”

  “Yes?” She slipped the book back onto the shelf and looked at him. She blinked at him once, twice, slow and lazy like a cat.

  His mouth was suddenly dry, and he had to lick his lips before he could speak. “What can you tell me about Jillian McComb?”

  His question stopped her from reaching for another book. She met his gaze evenly before looking away and appearing interested in the movie on television. Then she came closer to the fire and sat down next to him. “Is that the real reason you invited me here?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied truthfully. “I invited you here because I wanted you here. If I merely wanted answers about Jillian McComb, I would have come to the clinic or to your house,” he explained. “Had she been to the clinic lately?” He watched her closely and fought the urge to reach out and touch her.

  “There’s nothing I can tell you. There are laws—”

  “I know there are laws about patient privacy, but she’s dead, so does that mean she’s still a patient?” he asked. Then he went on before she could answer. “And I also saw the look on your face when her body was brought into the clinic and the bag opened.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze
as he spoke. Nor did she watch television. She stared at the flames of the fire.

  If he reached out and touched her, he could read into her thoughts. He didn’t move. He wanted her to share with him. He didn’t want to have to take anything from her. “Tell me what you know that won’t break any laws,” he said.

  “I don’t know anything,” she replied, emphasizing the word “know.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding as if he believed her. “Then tell me what you think.”

  She shifted her gaze to the television, but he could tell she was deep in thought. “I think she had a boyfriend, or at least someone she spent time with.”

  “You think?” James thought of that strange, penciled list that had been in Jillian’s purse. The man of my dreams.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I think.”

  “Hmmm,” he let out without thinking, coming to the conclusion that perhaps Jillian had come to the clinic for birth control. “You don’t think you know his name, do you?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said without hesitation.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  She still didn’t look at him. James could only see her profile as she stared at the television as if she were really interested in the movie.

  “Last week.”

  “At the clinic?” he asked without thinking.

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “I see,” he said, seeing very clearly. If she had seen Jillian anywhere else, on the street, in the diner, in church, or in the store, she would have been able to tell him without breaking any health privacy laws. Well, he could use the privacy law to his advantage. “Do you think there’s a chance Doc could have missed major life-threatening symptoms of some disease, for which he should have sent her to a hospital on the mainland?”

  “No,” she said, instantly turning to him. When she realized his choice of words, she took a deep breath and calmed herself. “No,” she said again, softer. “Doc checks out everything. If he questions anything, he sends blood tests to the lab on the mainland. And with his experience, he’s seen just about everything.”

  James heard everything Emma was telling him. So Doc checked Jillian McComb out, even did blood tests, but there was no way to know what Doc found without forcing Emma to break laws, so he let it go, deciding to skirt his way around Doc instead. If worse came to worse, he could get a subpoena, or he could simply slip into the clinic some night and read Jillian’s file.

  “Is there anything else you think you might be able to tell me?” He watched her closely.

  “Her funeral is tomorrow,” she replied. “I know that her brother had a tough time deciding about it. He didn’t want to bury her in the cemetery where she died, but in the end, he thought she might be happier resting next to her sister.”

  “I already know that. What else?”

  “Nothing,” she said without hesitation.

  There was obviously a great deal she had inside her, a lot that she’d held in for five long years. She may have tucked it all so deep inside her that she didn’t even know how to draw it out to tell him. He decided to approach her from another angle.

  “Tell me what you thought when you saw her face,” he said. He had to help her let it all go, to get it out of her system. If she didn’t, her past was bound to make the future more dangerous for her. Either way, he felt the evil growing. He had no choice but to move forward and get any answers he could, even though hurting Emma was the last thing he ever wanted. He had to guide her through this, just as he’d had to help her look at the stars.

  But right now, he couldn’t even get her to look at him. She looked down at her hands, and then she closed her eyes, as if she could simply close out the rest of the world that way. It didn’t work.

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. He reached over and took her hand.

  James’s hand was so warm. Emma had forgotten how warm a man’s touch could be. He laced his fingers through hers, and she gripped his hand tightly, never before realizing how much she needed to hold on to him. She wondered if he would still be so interested, still want her, when he found out how broken she was inside.

  “I thought,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper, barely heard over the boxing match on the television, “that the—the man who’d hurt me was back. That was my first thought,” she admitted.

  She thought he’d let go of her hand after she spoke the words, but he didn’t. In fact, she felt him move closer to her even though she never looked up at him.

  “Why did you think that?” he asked softly.

  Emma swallowed and took a deep breath. Facing this was worse than facing the darkness, and she was relieved that he didn’t ask her more about the man who had hurt her. “Because—” She didn’t know where to begin or how to begin. James was forcing her to dig up things she’d buried long ago. Jilly McComb was forcing her to dig up worse things. “I can’t explain it.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning.”

  “It was five years ago, before you came here. The Chief of Police was named Mathers. He was an older man, kind of fat and slow. Strange things started happening here.”

  “What things?” He could guess, but he had to know what Emma knew.

  “I don’t know exactly. It was early summer. I had just graduated from college, I was twenty-four.” She met his gaze for the first time. “I know. I should have graduated sooner, but what can I say? I got caught up in campus life and missed a few classes and had to be there longer than some.”

  “So what happened?” he urged.

  “I came here with my friend, Marcy. We were roommates. She grew up here, said we both deserved to come to the island and take a month or two off before finding real jobs. This island was wonderful. I fell in love with it the moment I stepped off the ferry. I remember wondering why it wasn’t the hottest summer vacation spot because it has great beaches.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  She licked her lips and contemplated asking him for another glass of wine. Maybe later. “Well, we were here about three weeks when I started to notice things. First, I remember businesses didn’t open. Mrs. Smith, who owned and ran a beauty shop called Deeper Than Skin Beauty suddenly didn’t open, and Marcy said she hadn’t missed a day in probably twenty years. There was a dentist, too, that suddenly didn’t open any longer. The reason I noticed was that we walked past their offices every day on our way to the beach.

  “Then Marcy told me Doctor Jenkins was advertising for some help in his office. His wife, Mary, helped him then. I met her for the first time when I went to interview for the job.” Emma smiled at the memory. “I remember thinking this was like a dream come true. I could live on this beautiful island and have a job here, too.”

  The fire crackled and popped, and Emma watched it for a long moment.

  “Go on,” he said. He now held her hands with both of his.

  She shivered, and he let go of her hands. Emma nearly reached out to him to pull him back. Holding on to him while rehashing these horrible memories was like holding on to a life ring in the middle of the ocean. To her surprise, he grabbed some nearby pillows and the throw off the sofa. Then he arranged them nearby.

  “Here, lie down.”

  She leaned onto her side, facing the fire. James hit the mute button on the remote. Then he lay down behind her and pulled the throw over the two of them as he drew her into his arms and held her against his chest.

  Emma relished in the feel of the way he held her. The sense of security his embrace brought nearly overwhelmed her.

  “Better?” he asked softly, as he moved her hair out of his way.

  “Yes,” she couldn’t help admitting as she dwelled on the warmth of him and watched the fire before them. It seemed like for the first time in a very long time, she was able to really relax.

  “What happened next?” he asked.

  “Marcy disappeared,” she replied bluntl
y. She remembered that day as though it had happened yesterday. “Even now, after all this time, when I think about it, I have to concentrate to breathe.”

  James simply held her and let her talk. The pain he heard in her voice caught in his heart. It was like a vicious dragon he could never slay for her, and it tore at him. Yet, despite the evident pain and fear he heard, now that he’d opened the floodgates with his questions, he didn’t attempt to stop her. He merely tried to ease the tension he felt within her with his embrace. Absently, he brushed her hair aside again, and placed a gentle kiss on her throat behind her ear. Her enticing scent captivated him instantly. The sweet, salty taste of her skin grabbed him like a warm, strong hand, and he realized he never should have tasted her.

  Fortunately, or unfortunately—James wasn’t certain which—Emma was so caught up in her story, she didn’t seem to notice his kiss.

  “She didn’t come home from the gym, and it wasn’t like she’d been dating anyone,” Emma went on. “Just as we’d shared a room at college, we shared an apartment on the west side of the island. It was the old drug store building,” she explained, “practically falling down when we rented it.” She paused at the memory and closed her eyes tightly for a few seconds. “We were like sisters. She would have told me if she was going to the mainland or doing anything out of the ordinary. When she didn’t come home that night, I went to the police station to report her missing and there was no one there, no one at all. At that time, there was only Mathers and one deputy, not four or five like you have now. And they were both gone, too. I looked for them, tried to call them, but every number I tried just went to an answering machine.”

  She paused and took several breaths.

  James was listening while still concentrating on the taste of her that lingered on his lips. Why couldn’t he have met her before the evil touched her? Why hadn’t he come sooner? How different would things have been for both of them if he had arrived on the island just one day sooner? He could have saved her from so much fear, so much terror, so much heartache. He tried to imagine the fear that must have gripped her when she sensed that she was alone. He fought down the anger that threatened to overwhelm him at the thought that he should have come here sooner. He remembered that day as well as she did. Fear was a strange emotion, strong and pure. It sent waves through the air that he, being a skilled hunter, had felt, had tuned in to. He had known there was trouble here. He had felt Emma’s fear even then. Yet, he remembered putting off his flight to North Carolina because he’d thought there’d been more time, because he was tired of the hunt after destroying the two vampires in Chicago. He couldn’t help wondering how different things might be for many people if he had come when he first felt the fear.