Dominic cuts himself, hissing under his breath, a bead of red sliding down his finger before he sucks it clean. I try not to be too obvious when I gaze at his lips.
“Careful,” he warns, but it’s already too late.
A sudden sharp sting makes me suck in a breath, and I look down to see a jagged piece of glass embedded in my finger. “Fuck.”
Dominic snatches my wrist, holding my hand steady as he removes the piece before wrapping his warm lips around my finger. A spark of liquid desire shoots to my core at the heated look in his eyes. I’m entrapped, held hostage by that possessive stare.
He trails his warm tongue over my finger, then drops my hand and rises to his full height. I peer up at him, still on my knees, at eye level with his crotch, and now it’s all I can focus on. When he continues gazing down at me, I try hard not to peek at the bulge, but it’s right there.
Tense seconds tick by.
I’m parched.
There’s a pulsating sensation between my legs—a sensation that becomes more difficult to ignore the longer his eyes stay locked on mine.
Then, like he’s pulled out of a daze, Dominic steps around me and walks away. I inhale a ragged breath, unsure if I’m relieved or not. His effect on me is terrifying. I shouldn’t be this flustered.
My attention lands on the photograph on the floor, and I pick it up, then slowly rise to my feet.
The older woman in the photo is the same woman I saw in the window, but that can’t be right.
Frowning, I take a seat on a kitchen chair, scanning the picture in the hopes of finding a date stamp in the corner, but there’s nothing. The woman’s dead eyes seem to see through me, and I fight a shiver as I place the picture back down.
I must have imagined the whole thing, right? This can’t be the same woman I saw in the window. We’ve not had visitors yet.
Picking the card back up, I run a finger along the worn edge. The woman looks just as severe as that time when she gazed down at me, half hidden behind the curtains. Her cold eyes are just as cruel.
I turn the card over and pause.
Psalm 106:37
They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons;
FOUR
CAMRYN
“Camryn,”a voice hisses, the sinister sound echoing around me as I shoot upright in bed, clutching the quilt to my chest. Sleep lingers at the fringes of my consciousness as I rub my face. The darkness is pierced by an ominous, vicious growl that sends a chill down my spine. My heart races, pounding in my throat as I take a shaky breath.
I slowly turn my head toward the door, every nerve in my body on high alert. Bruno bares his sharp canines, poised to attack, when another rumbling growl fills the silence.
“Bruno?” I glance at the door, seeing nothing but the outline of the gown hanging on the hook behind it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I swallow hard. “There’s nothing there, Bruno.”
Instead of quieting, his low growl intensifies, and he inches backward closer to the bed. I turn on the bedside lamp with trembling fingers and look back at the door. As I thought, my peach gown hangs on a hook.
After removing the quilt, I sit at the edge of the bed and run my fingers through his coarse fur, feeling his tense muscles contracting beneath my touch.
Dread twists my gut as I whisper, “Bruno? What do you see, buddy?”
When he continues to snarl, I rise to my feet, walk past him to the door, and spin around. “There’s no one here.”
Even though my voice trembles, I offer him a reassuring smile. I know it’s reckless to approach him while he’s so distressed, but I can’t help taking a step closer, my hand outstretched in a placating gesture. “Calm down, Bruno. It’s okay.”
A sudden chill at the back of my neck makes me still and hold my breath. Someone is behind me—someone or something evil. There has to be. I’ve never been more sure of anything.
With a wall of ice behind me and Bruno in front, snarling low in his throat, I’m truly trapped. There’s nowhere to run, and the last thing I want to do is to turn around.
Within my next breath, the chill shifts and moves past me. Bruno yelps and scampers away, his claws pattering on the wooden floor. My heart hammers harder, and I gulp past the lump forming in my throat. Whatever thatthingwas, it’s gone now, though I still feel as if I’m not alone, like it’s watching me.
