Page 19 of Shadow Beasts


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“Probably that old door creaking on its hinges,” Otis interrupted with a chuckle. “Everything around here’s old. Even me!”

Paige offered a nervous chuckle. The noise she’d heard hadn’t been a creaky door. Far from it. But either Otis hadn’t heard it or he was lying about it. Either way, she wasn’t getting any information from him. With a final goodnight, she whipped around and began her journey down the hall.

She quickened her step as she strode toward the rear door. As she passed the HR office, she twisted around, finding Otis still staring after her. With another brief wave, she returned her gaze forward and continued to the door.

She pushed into the cool night air and glanced up at the moon. What had she heard when she’d opened the archive doors? And what had Otis meant by his odd statements about her getting hurt and liking everything she heard on her first day?

Paige turned slowly and stared up at the library rising above her. Its decorative gothic rooftop jutted into the starry night sky. Did the library hide some secret?

As she pondered the question further, a bat screeched in the distance before fluttering around above her head. Paige grimaced at the creature and hurried from the alleyway to the sidewalk out front.

The questions continued to plague her mind while she hastened through the streets back to her apartment. Autumn leaves swirled in eddies in front of her, blown by the gusty wind coming off the sea. She turned the corner onto her street and quickened her steps. Large drops of rain splattered the sidewalk as dark clouds blotted out the moon.

Thunder rumbled overhead as Paige ducked into her building. She climbed the stairs and wound around to her apartment, then she unlocked her door and slipped inside. The music that had blasted through the ceiling earlier had quieted.

With a sigh of relief, she stalked to her bedroom and dumped her tote bag near the full-length mirror. She tugged her boots off and tossed them in her closet before changing into her pajamas.

With her cozy plaid flannels on, she plopped in front of her vanity and teased the hair elastic from her long, red strands. She allowed her hair to fall around her shoulders before she brushed it.

Questions filled her mind as she repeated stroke after stroke, smoothing out her soft, straight locks.

Dickens emerged from under the bed and pranced toward her, leaping onto the vanity top.

“Hello, Dicky. Did you have a purr-fect nap?” she inquired with a tousle of his fur.

The cat stared at her with his yellow-green eyes.

“I heard something strange when I was at the library poking around earlier,” she began, returning to her hair brushing.

The cat’s gaze shifted from Paige to the window across the room. His eyes focused on something, his gaze drifting as he followed motion outside the window.

“What are you looking at, Dicky?” Paige inquired, furrowing her brow. She twisted and glanced at the window. With a shrug, she turned back. “There’s nothing there, silly kitty.”

The cat’s focus never moved. Paige shook her head, brushed through the final few strokes, and dumped the brush on the wooden vanity top. The cat’s ears twitched as the brush clattered across the wood.

Within seconds, Dickens’s ears flicked toward the window. He murmured a meow before he leapt from the vanity and raced toward the window, and then he stood on his hind legs to peer out.

Paige rolled her eyes as she stood. “There is nothing out there!”

Dickens continued to stare out the window as Paige slipped under her worn burgundy duvet. The white fill poked from a few small holes. Paige stuffed it back inside and did her best to slide fabric over them.

“Come on, Dickens. Time for bed!” She patted the flat cover next to her.

The cat continued his vigil at the window.

Paige shook her head at him and switched off her light. “Suit yourself.”

She rolled onto her side, staring at the shadows formed on her wall by the streetlights below her window. A mewling meow sounded behind her. Paige squeezed her lips together and sighed.

Another cry and a growling meow.

“Will you stop that, Dickens?” Paige called over her shoulder.

The cat offered another low protest. Paige shoved her head farther into the pillow and closed her eyes.

After a moment, she popped them open. She’d never sleep with the prospect of her first day of work looming over her. Nervous energy filled her.

She stared at the wall across from her. She’d memorized every gouge and imperfection in it on her many other sleepless nights in the past. Now, she traced the outline of the corner, complete with the missing chunk that had been there when she’d moved in.

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