by Eve Langlais
“Or maybe I’m just resistant to you. I don’t like you. You’re pushy and arrogant. I get the impression you think because we made out one night that you own me.”
“I do.”
“No one owns me,” I hotly contested. “Least of all you.”
“Ah yes, because you think you’re interested in another.”
“I don’t just think. I am. I’m seeing someone else.” Not entirely true, but Kane didn’t need to know that my situation with Darryl was still in the baby stages. It might never go anywhere, and even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t ever be Kane’s, despite how he made me feel.
I might be newly single, but I understood just how bad he was for me. Kane was the type to use me to get what he wanted and ditch me the moment he was done.
“Your infatuation with him won’t last. I’ll be patiently waiting until the day comes and you see him as he really is.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time.”
“And will you make my brother wait, too?”
“Jace?”
Kane laughed, a dark, low rumble. “Don’t play dumb with me, Naomi. I know you’ve seen him. You had coffee this morning.”
“I can’t believe you’re spying on me.”
“More like keeping informed. What did Jace want?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” It made me wonder who ratted out our coffee break.
“He and I aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
“It’s an old fight. And one I doubt we’ll ever resolve.”
“Whatever it is, keep me out of it.”
“Ah, but that is the last thing we can do. If you only knew…”
“Knew what?”
“Those you think you can trust most are the ones you should be guarding against.”
“You can stop it right now. If you think you can make me doubt my friends, you’re deluded. You’re the one I don’t trust.”
“I never said you should. I am the least trustworthy of all.” Again, mockery lilted his words.
“Glad to hear you admit it. Now promise you’ll leave me alone.”
“Alas, I can’t do that. You’re much too important.” Stated and not with any softness.
It was a grim reminder. “Because of my property.”
“For many reasons.”
Bzzt. One of the vanity lights in the bathroom buzzed and went out. I’d have to replace the bulb.
I shifted in the water. “For the last time, I’m not selling, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
“Good? What is this, reverse psychology?” I snorted. I shifted in the rapidly cooling water.
“Actually, the company’s decision to rescind its offer has to do with following a different interpretation.”
“Interpretation of what?” I exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t say. When the time is right, I will tell you everything.”
“Or you won’t because I don’t care.” I switched the phone to my other ear.
“We’ll speak when I return in a few days.”
“I thought you were supposed to be gone awhile.”
“The situation has changed.”
“Does it have to do with the mill?”
“Curious like a cat. If you want to know all my secrets, have dinner with me.”
“No thanks.” I didn’t want to know his business that badly. Lie. Curiosity burned in me, but not enough to accept his invitation.
Pop. Another light went out.
Only one dim bulb remained, and it flickered. “I’ve got to go.”
His tone went from teasing to brusque. “What’s wrong?”
“Looks like I’m having electrical problems. First the store, now here,” I grumbled, standing from the tub, water streaming from my naked body.
“What’s happening, Naomi?”
“Just some power issues. Not a big deal.”
“Get inside the circle, the nearest circle,” he snapped.
“What?”
“Your house. It has a circle on each floor, does it not? Etched into the very boards you walk on.”
How did he know? “Yeah, but it’s in my bedroom, and I’m wet, and you’re talking crazy. So I’m going to hang up.”
“Stop being so blindly stupid. I don’t know how they penetrated your wards, but you’re in danger. Get in a fucking circle.”
“We’re done now. Bye, bye.” I would have hung up, but my phone chose that moment to die. My battery appeared to be having issues of late. I’d have to take it in and get it fixed.
I dropped it onto the vanity by the sink and grabbed a towel. I wrapped it around my body just as the last bulb flickered and died, leaving me in almost pure darkness. The only light came from my room via the open door.
Did the house have a short in its electrical? I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking of Jace’s warning. Bad wiring could start a fire. Could I find an emergency electrician this time of night?
I exited the bathroom and crossed my bedroom, the space lit only by the lamp on my nightstand. I happened to glance at the floor and the circle etched on it, the line marking it dark and, inside the sphere, lighter grooves forming symbols.
Get in the circle.
I stepped through it and passed to my wardrobe. If the power was about to fail, I wanted to be dressed. Properly. When my old house burned down, I got caught in my nightie, ass up, granny panties showing in the local newspaper. Needless to say, I had no intention of letting that ever happen again
As the lamp on my nightstand flickered, I glanced at the window. It was night, and my room was on the second story. There shouldn’t have been anything to see.
Tell that to the big glowing eyes!
16
Being a normal, red-blooded person with a vivid imagination meant only one way to react to a face in my window. I shrieked.
Loudly.
Which had no effect.
The eyes kept glowing, and I chided myself for being stupid. It was probably an animal. Maybe a squirrel, or a bat. Either or didn’t matter; it couldn’t get inside. I was perfectly safe.
I blinked, and the eyes were gone. I’d scared myself for nothing.
Zzzt.
My light flickered again, reminding me of the situation. I rushed to my dresser, letting my towel fall as I pulled out a thick sweatshirt and yanked it over my head sans bra. My undies went on super quick, too. It was as I reached for my trackpants that the lamp went out.
It would have been pitch-black if not for the ceiling. Once more, I was glad I’d invested in the time and luminescent paint. The glowing lines and symbols soothed me. It allowed me to take a calming breath, and I reminded myself that the cottage was a safe place. So long as I remained inside, nothing could hurt me. Unless there was a fire…
Why, oh, why did I think of that?
No fire. Positive thoughts. But just in case, I finished dressing. My pants went on just as something thumped the roof.
I glanced up. Probably a bird.
Thud.
A giant bird.
Or a bat…
Wait, didn’t bats like to roost upside down?
Pitter. Patter.
“Let’s get at ‘er.”
I might have imagined the last part as I stared round-eyed at the ceiling. I’d lived here months at this point and had never heard a thing.
Thud. Thump.
More and more things landed and walked, waddled, scrabbled. I imagined so many things happening up there. Perhaps it was a migratory thing. A flock of birds, late for their flight down south, stopping on my roof for a breather before finishing their trip.
I imagined giant geese, the mean Canadian kind with teeth inside their beaks and claws on their webbed toes.
“I am being irrational again,” I muttered to myself. I shoved my feet inside my slippers and shuffled away from my dresser.
Tap. It sounded as if something knocked on the window.<
br />
Ignore it. Sound advice. If I didn’t look, I couldn’t scare myself.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The rapid-fire pings against my glass refused to be ignored. It didn’t help that the window was at least ten feet off the ground, making it almost impossible for anything to be knocking.
I peeked. I really wished I hadn’t, as I saw the beak of something that might have been a bird, with reptilian-type skin and eyes, the slit of them unblinking as it stared at me through the glass and tapped harder.
It couldn’t get inside. Perfectly safe. At the reminder, I hugged myself.
Crack.
The glass showed a hairline fracture, the tiniest of lines, and yet I shivered.
Oh. No.
The creature pulled back its beak and got ready to smack the window again.
Time to get out of here. I fled for the stairs, grabbing and pulling over the rarely used hatch to my attic bedroom. It thumped down and blocked me from my room. Just in time. I heard the falling shards of glass, the squawk as the bird-reptile thing burst inside.
There wasn’t a latch on this side; however, I doubted the creature could lift the heavy trap door. I had it contained. I’d have to call pest control. Which reminded me, I’d left my dead phone in the bathroom. Forget calling anyone to remove the creature. Heck, forget getting anyone to come over and keep me company. Looked like I was stuck here until Winnie got home unless I wanted to drive somewhere.
For a brief moment, I thought of Jace with his axe. He could probably give me a hand with my bedroom-invasion problem, but that would involve going outside, at night… What if that thing had friends?
With a sigh, I headed down the stairs. The lack of light extended to the main floor. The only illumination came from the pale moonlight streaming through the windows. I kind of wished I’d drawn the drapes, reducing my exposure. What if those things on the roof realized there was more than one way to get in?
While not a person who believed in violence or firearms, I could have really used a gun about now.
A chill gripped me, which was odd. I’d started the wood stove before going upstairs, yet passing by its fat metal belly, I didn’t feel any kind of heat pulsing from it. I’d obviously screwed up. I’d have to start over.
Fetching wood for the stove meant passing close to a window to reach the pile stacked under it. Keeping an eye on the glass, I reached and grabbed a few pieces. Nothing appeared to yell boo. My panties remained dry.
I tried to find the logic and reminded myself it was probably just a fluke some creature came inside upstairs. Animals didn’t break into people’s houses. Unless they were bears. Bears went wherever they liked.
The thing upstairs wasn’t a bear, not even a vicious honey badger, but some kind of ugly bird. Maybe it was the roasting kind.
Ha. As if I had the guts to shoot and skin my own dinner. The grocery store meat section was my go-to for meals.
Feeling a bit better given I didn’t hear any tapping, or see any eyes, I carried my load of wood to the wood stove. Kneeling on the floor in front of it, I dropped most of the split log chunks alongside. With one piece of kindling in hand, I reached for the latch and swung open the small hatch.
Something lunged from within.
“Eek!” I screamed and swung. Thwack! The creature in my wood stove squawked and fell away from the opening. Quickly, I slammed the hatch shut, catching it on a spindly limb. Screech.
The thing loudly voiced its displeasure and, worse, refused to give up. I slammed the door again and again. When it finally yanked that bent limb inside the stove, I managed to latch it closed.
Breathing hard, fast, wheezing breaths, I rocked back on my heels. How had it gotten in there?
My gaze followed the line of the round metal pipe. It must have come down the chimney, which made me wonder—What other openings did this house have? My gaze went to the main floor bathroom slash laundry room with its washer and dryer. The dryer vented outside. I ran across the room, skirting the couch, and reached for the doorknob on the bathroom. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the winged monster squatting on the dryer.
“Yack!” It spat at me
I yelled, “Fuck!” because it seemed most apt and yanked the door shut. I couldn’t lock it, though. Surely the bird couldn’t open it.
The knob rattled. I backed away. The stove rocked on its ceramic base.
I moved away from it, too.
Something tapped at the window.
I kept my eyes on my feet and didn’t look. I stepped over the edge of the circle in the entrance.
Get inside a circle.
Kane’s command returned to me. I didn’t understand how it would help with my home-invasion issue but…I didn’t even know what was infesting my place. Monster came to mind, and while I wanted to cling to the belief monsters didn’t exist, I couldn’t deny what was right in front of my eyes.
Maybe getting inside a circle didn’t make sense, but then again, neither did the creatures attacking my house.
I knelt on the floor, keeping my limbs tucked inside the lines, and clueless as to what came next. Kane never said if I should chant some magical verse.
Shit. I should have grabbed a weapon. How would I protect myself? The nearest potential would be a knife in the kitchen or the poker by the wood stove. Both meant leaving the round spot.
I glanced at the wood stove, rattling on its base, then over to the kitchen that still seemed so quiet. That decided it for me. I shoved to my feet and left the circle. The house shuddered. I paused, hands out to my sides, steadying myself. Earthquake?
It didn’t reoccur, and I kept moving for the oven and the knife block beside it. I’d grab the biggest one. The cleaver of all cleavers. I tried not to think of what would happen if I actually had to hack something with it.
As I reached for the blade, I noticed it, creeping out from under the sink, an oozing mass almost like a plant, except I could see it moving. Inching toward me.
The house shifted underfoot again. Startling and worrisome. A crack zigzagged across the ceiling, the plaster chipping.
Not good. Would these tremors cause too much damage and instability? What if my house became condemned? Where would I live? How would I fix it?
Practical thoughts ran through my mind as my fingers remained wrapped around the hilt of the biggest knife.
Rattle.
My gaze flew to the vent. The kind that you pressed a button and a fan whirred on, sucking up smoke and—
My eyes widened just as the grille over the hole to project smells outside fell with a clatter. A dark, spindly body followed.
I did the proper thing and shrieked. Acting on instinct, and no skill whatsoever, I also swung my knife. I didn’t feel it actually entering any flesh, and yet the creature squealed, and I gaped as a line opened across its chest.
The injury didn’t kill the monster, but it sure made the damned thing mad!
Claws out, it dove, reaching for me.
So guess what I did next?
Yup. Screamed. It didn’t help on roller coasters. It didn’t help when scared. And it didn’t help when being attacked by determined flying gargoyles.
The name fit. Winged, clawed, with animal-shaped hind legs but arms ending in sharp fingers. A face with glowing eyes and a curved beak. Its expression held cunning and anger.
Virulent, I want to rip your face off and eat it, anger.
My second swing went wide, and it hit me, the momentum sending me back into the island. The countertop edge dug into my back.
My hands went for the beast. One still held the knife, making it unwieldy, but I wasn’t about to drop my only weapon.
I shoved at the creature, but it clung to me. Snapped its nasty, foul-smelling mouth.
“Get off me!” I shrieked. I threw myself forward and leaned enough that when I hit the counter on the other side, I caught its body with it.
Something cracked.
Nothing of mine, thankfully. The monster spasmed a
nd loosened its grip. I didn’t waste my chance.
I flung myself away from the creature and ran, still holding that knife, aiming for the circle. Mostly because it was also in line with the door. Maybe I could run outside and make it to my car. Betsy might have windows they could break, but surely if I drove fast enough, I’d lose them.
But I had to make it to my car first.
The next tremor sent me to my knees, and I skidded as the floor tilted. Slid right into the circle.
I braced my hands on the floor—palm flat with my free hand and with the knuckles of the one holding on to the knife. The floor shivered. Head hanging down, I couldn’t help but mutter, “What’s happening?”
The house groaned. Shifted. I’d swear it grunted. Something was majorly wrong.
“Awk!”
The cry had me glancing over my shoulder just as a new gargoyle face poked out of the stove’s vent. Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
I let the annoyance and anger flood through me rather than the despair trying to well up. I’d tried despondency. It didn’t work.
Besides, not acting would get me killed. These monsters were out for blood. I stood and held out the knife.
“Come on, you bastard.”
I’d kill it. Me. Because my damned cat had disappeared. Seriously, where was Grisou? I could have used an epic mouser. He’d been fearless in my shop, and now he was missing. It chilled me as I realized why he might not be coming to my rescue.
What if he’d been…
No. I wouldn’t think it. Not my sweet kitty.
Crack. The sharp noise drew my gaze. The window over the woodpile showed a spiderweb and a dark shadow behind it.
Another knock or two and it would be through.
“Squawk.”
The one in the kitchen barked, and there was a reply.
Not good. My knife would be useless if they all attacked at once.
“I am going to die.” Painfully. If only I had a gun. I could shoot them from my spot in the circle.
“Now would be the time to prove you’re actually listening,” I muttered to the house.
It groaned in reply. Could my home be sick?
The cottage shivered again. Broken glass tinkled as it showered the floor. I couldn’t help but glance at the window, the moonlight showing the outline of the newest gargoyle crawling inside and then blocking the light as it unfurled its wings.