Chapter 16: *CHAPTER 16*

Walking into my house after the twenty-four hours I'd just had was unsettling. Like the moment you wake up from a nightmare to stare at your bedroom, your brain trying to connect the two completely different realities in your head and decide what's real. The rumble of the air conditioning, the creak of the front door, the cool quiet smells of my house. The lights were still on, everything the same from when I'd left the night before. All familiar, but everything felt different somehow.

The unsettled feeling that had come over me at George's house hadn't gone away as I took the stairs two at a time to get to my bedroom. It didn't take me long to uncover my duffle bag from where it was buried behind a bunch of stuff David stored in the hall closet. Only a little dusty. Bringing it back into my room I tossed the pink duffle onto my unmade bed and stared around my bedroom.

Hovering near my dresser I chewed on my lip, debating how many clothes I'd need. No one had mentioned how long I was going to be staying with them. It seems like I'd been optimistic this morning when I'd told Janice that I'd only be out of work for one day. But hearing Malcolm and Richard say that they hadn't found anything out about the Curse Mark was like a cold splash of water dousing out that hope.

It's not like they could keep me there forever though. After tomorrow I'd have to put my foot down and go back to work though if I was going to pay the mortgage this month. For the second time in as many days, I wondered if I should call my uncle. My phone was right where I'd left it on my bed. I snatched it up along with my charger. A quick scroll through my messages—too many again. I'd have to go through them later.

I stared at David's name in my contacts for a long moment, debating.

Uncle David wasn't a bad person. He'd had the responsibility of taking me in when he was too young, but he'd tried his best at first. After a while though, I think it all must have just become too much for him. And now, there had been too many times when he'd ignored my pleas for help for me to fully trust him. It was better for me that way.

If I didn't have any expectations for him, then I couldn't be disappointed. Still, I took a deep breath and typed out a brief text message to him to let him know what had happened. About the murder, and how I would be staying with friends for the unforeseeable future. That I might not be able to make the mortgage payment this month. My finger only hesitated over the send button for a moment before I finally forced myself to just do it. Sent. I tossed my phone unceremoniously into my duffel, not even bothering to wait for a reply.

Figuring it would be better to pack too many clothes than not enough, I shoved as many as I could fit in my pink duffel, before making my way to the bathroom to grab the few things that I needed from there—shampoo, face wash, toothbrush, makeup. While I shoved it all into my bag, my eyes landed on the old photograph I kept on my bedside table. My fingers hovered over the picture of my mom on my nightstand which had been handled to the point of fading. It was the only picture I had of my mom and I rubbed it with a gentle finger before finally tucking it into my bag as well. I didn't really need it, but something in my chest tugged uncomfortably at the thought of leaving it behind.

I was just collecting a pair of work shoes from the closet when I heard a door open and close downstairs. I glanced at the clock on my dresser and made a face. Wow, Malcolm had waited a total of twelve minutes before barging in. I huffed a breath and pulled myself to my feet.

"I thought you were going to meet at your truck," I called out. It was a struggle to zip up my bag which was now bursting at the seams and hefted it onto my shoulder. I hurried out of my bedroom, rounding the corner to the stairs, flipping off switches as I went. The bag made it difficult and I hobbled unevenly down the steps, not wanting Malcolm snooping around my house more than he already had.

At the bottom of the stairs, I blinked around the entryway. It was empty.

"Malcolm?" Still no answer. Huffing in annoyance, I dropped my too-heavy bag unceremoniously near the front door. I grumbled annoyedly under my breath as I made my way to the kitchen.

Empty.

More than a little annoyed now, I turned back to the living room. And froze where I stood. A tall hunched figure stood blocking my way back to the front door.

Not Malcolm.

A man with papery skin, a shade of yellowish white that was alarming. The man's nose was so smooshed to his face that it looked like two slits had been carved into his skin—like a snake. And his teeth. My heart hammered in my chest so hard it hurt as his lips pulled back in a grin that displayed teeth that were long and spiny with needle-like points.

Not human.

Not human at all.

He blinked overly large eyes in my direction. There was a red mark on his forehead--a red swirling symbol of some sort. It looked like it had been carved into his flesh. I stood there frozen as he tilted his head up, sniffing the air through the slits in his face. Sniffed me. My frozen limbs turned to jelly, everything suddenly going numb as I watched interest glint in his eyes.

"Hello there, darling. Who might you be?" His voice was like gravel. The sound of stones cracking together. Ancient. The kind of ancient that brings a stillness to your skin. His tongue smacked against his needle-like teeth. "You smell positively delightful."

It was the mention of smell that had the back of my mind take notice of the horrid smell leeching from him. Rancid. Burnt sugar and rot. I took an involuntary step backward on stiff legs, my knees wobbling. The creature noted the movement with his buggy eyes. He matched it with a step forward.

"Who are you?" I asked, cursing my voice for not coming out stronger, surer. Instead, it sounded thin and scared which only made the monster grin impossibly wider till his smile took up most of his face.

The creature ignored my question, shifting towards me again. Every instinct was begging me to run, run, run. Desperate to put more space between us, I backed around the kitchen counter, keeping my eyes on the creature, feeling blindly behind me for the dull kitchen knives I kept there.

"No need to run, small one," that gravelly voice cooed, "I'm just going to drink a little bit. Just a little little bit. Morpheus won't mind too much. Won't mind."

My fumbling fingers grasped the handle of a knife and I gripped it between shaking fingers. My breathing was coming too fast. My heart was pounding so hard I wondered if it would combust. If it would kill me before this creature could.

My forearm burned as I gripped the knife between my fingers. Burning like it had caught on fire and a buzzing started in the back of my head like a bees nest had been cracked open in my skull so painful that I swore. Was the monster doing magic on me now?

The creature sniffed the air, eyes closing in bliss. Like my smell was that good. And then he snapped. He lunged toward me. For how ancient the creature appeared to be, the thing was fast. I swung the knife out in front of me on instinct, slashing at it. My wild thrusting managed to nick it in the chest.

The feel of my knife piercing his chest startled him enough that he stumbled back a step. I didn't wait for the creature to recover. I took off at a breakneck pace toward the front door. I didn't hadn't made it far when I was tackled from behind, landing on the tile hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Knees and jaw cracking painfully on the hard floor.

I blinked back through the shock reverberating through my body. Sucking in a painful breath I twisted until I was on my side. Every muscle in my body tensed as the creature descended on me. He was too heavy--much too heavy to fight off. In one swift motion, his head sank over my shoulder, needle-like teeth piercing through my skin. Liquid fire erupted through my shoulder and I screamed. The monster let out a grunt of pleasure as the nauseating sound of slurping passed its lips.

The front door crashed open with a force that bordered on shaking the foundation of the house. The creature ripped its mouth away from my shoulder. His unnatural eyes widened in shock as a torpedo of fire blazed over my head to smash the monster in the chest.