He laughed low. “Do you think I hadn’t thought of that?” He reached out and pulled the door handle. It opened with ease. “They don’t call me Charming for nothing.”
“People think you’re charming?” I scoffed.
“The waitress here tonight certainly thought so.” He was so smug I wanted to kick him.
So I did. Right in the shin.
He hissed a breath between his teeth. “Careful, you don’t want me to knock you out again. Then you’ll miss all the fun.”
The diner was darkened, with only a few lights on close to the back and one near the cook’s line. As we moved farther into the diner, he shoved me away and I ran behind the counter and grabbed a steak knife in one hand and a heavy glass sugar shaker in the other.
He actually set the gun on a nearby table and smiled. “This is going to be fun.”
And then he was leaping over the counter at me and I struck out with the knife. It caught his arm but did nothing other than damage the fine wool of his coat. He shouted in outrage and grabbed my arm, twisting so that the knife fell out of my grip and clattered on the floor. I slung the sugar shaker at him, catching him in the temple and snapping his head back. He let go as he stumbled and I stumbled too, stepping on the knife and slipping.
I landed on my butt, my tailbone stinging as I scrambled back up, still clutching my weapon. The man jumped right back up, blood gushing down the side of his face and into his mouth. It outlined all those perfect teeth and made him look like a rabid monster. He began unbuttoning his coat with slow, deliberate movements, but I wasn’t transfixed. I grabbed up a glass bottle of ketchup and threw it at the floor by his feet. It burst open, splattering everything with red sauce. Then I rushed to the line and reached through the opening, feeling around for a heavy pan I could knock him out with.
He came forward, slipping in the ketchup and falling over, taking me with him. He landed heavy and hard on top of me and sat up, his legs straddling my middle, and then he smiled that maniacal smile and wrapped his hands around my throat.
He didn’t squeeze at first, but applied enough pressure that I had to work a little harder to breathe, and it was just enough to make me start panicking. I tried to kick him off, to shift his weight, but it was no use. He outweighed me by a good eighty pounds.
“Your ability will be mine,” he said, tightening his grip a little bit more, and I choked.
Was that what this was about? My ability to have visions?
“Dex was supposed to kill you, but he didn’t, and I’m tired of waiting. So I’m going to kill you, collect my prize, and he will be recalled. Forever lost in damned eternity.”
Black spots began swimming in front of me and I was pretty sure he was going to crush my windpipe. His words echoed through my head over and over and over.
Dex was supposed to kill you…
With one last burst of energy, I threw my hand out, wrapping it around something beneath the counter, and brought it up between our faces. I placed my finger where I knew the trigger was and pressed. I held that button down with everything inside me as Lysol rushed out of the can and into the eyes of my attacker.
He began screaming and released me to wipe at his face. He was stupid because wiping it only made it worse and pushed it deeper into his eyes.
I hoped it burned like hell.
He rolled off me, squirming and screaming curses at me as I gasped for breath and made it to my hands and knees. I was beyond dizzy. My throat hurt so badly I would’ve cried if I was able, and it was hard to see.
But none of that mattered. All that mattered was surviving.
I began to crawl away, still clutching the aerosol can in my hand, desperately trying to move quickly when something latched onto my ankle. I shook my leg, trying to get free, but I was towed backward, behind the counter…
Toward my death.
I rolled onto my back and, taking aim with the disinfectant, pressed the button. This time only a small cloud released because in my haste earlier I’d used what was left in the can. I threw it at him in frustration, hitting him square in the face.
I hoped his nose swelled up like the rest of his face.
If I was going to die on the floor of some crappy diner, I was at least going to inflict as much damage as possible to the man who murdered me.
I began looking for something else I could use to fend him off when I felt warm hands come around my back and lift me up away from the floor. I used my feet to push myself up until the person behind me swung me up completely and into his arms.
I blinked. My vision was blurred, but I caught the outline of black-rimmed glasses.
Dex.
Considering that this other guy just told me Dex wanted me dead too, I wasn’t sure I was any safer than moments before.
