Page 109 of Some Kind of Haunted

I am standing in the midst of every last one of my nightmares. It’s almost poetic, because normally when I dream these things, I’m out there roaming.

Now I’m wide-awake and still.

And even more importantly, I’m sure.

Love brought me here and love will see me through.

“Your blood can be voluntary and you can protect everything you love,” Harrison continues, sounding calm and caring at first. But it changes, with the sneer crossing his face. “Or it can be involuntary. And you can die. And so can they. The Feed is in the offing. They’ll be taken, devoured. I’ll insist on it. It’s your choice, Lexi. Life for them. Or screaming, bloody, horrible death for all.”

My choice. The real gift Midas gave me.

“Harrison,” I say, and my voice is perfectly even. I’m not even trying. “There is nothing that could ever convince me to become you.”

“That’s a shame, Lexi.” He holds the knife up. “Then you will meet the same fate as everyone who has denied me.”

His eyes gleam. Terror swamps me, but I refuse to look away. “I thought you needed a harbinger to become what you wanted.”

He sneers at that. Clearly, I’ve pissed him off, and I love that for me. Because something I’ve always been able to do is annoy the shit out of people when I want to. Sometimes even if I don’t mean to. I can make a man apoplectic in two sentences, kids. One, if I’m well-caffeinated.

But it’s short-lived and morphs back into that evil smile. “I’ll just wait for the next one.”

Harrison brings the knife down then. I brace myself for the slashing, the slice, the burn of the agony I know is coming.

I can taste my own blood in my mouth. I can’t run. I have no weapons.

He’s pulling all the strings. He has all the power. He has demons.

I see Cleo’s broken body in my head and choke back the sob that tries to rise in my chest.

All I can do is brace for impact and hope it’s quick.

But I fucking hate that plan.

I squeeze the rocks in my palms tighter, and it makes me realize I can move my arms. My legs are locked into place. I’m stuck past my knees.

But my arms can move.

When I think that, I know exactly what I have to do.

It’s instinctual, which is odd considering I’ve never thrown anything but a tantrum in my life, but I pull my hands out of my pockets and hurl the rocks directly at Harrison.

Instead of slurping, there is a pained sort of hiss. It fills the whole inner chamber of the clock tower, echoing loudly in my ears—and instead of being stuck in place, something around me releases.

It’s a shock, but even in my shock I know I have to act. Immediately.

Harrison still has that knife and the shadows are moving wildly, but I know they’ll focus on me again. I didn’t kill anything. I just shocked them for a second or two, so I have to take it. I won’t get another.

I do the only thing I can in this moment. I run.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Stay in the light. Stay in the light.

It’s the only chant in my head as I take off, throwing myself out that door and nearly stumbling as I take the stairs down two at a time. At first, all I care about is getting away from that clock tower and Harrison and all that oozing, slippery black.

I run down Main Street, back toward the center of town, staying in the path of whatever light I can find. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t care as long as I’m putting distance between me and the knife-wielding maniac with his pet demon horde—

Though I don’t think the horde is Harrison’s. I think he’s theirs, whether he realizes it or not.