Page 199 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"She'll probably sneak you half a dozen doggy biscuits before I can stop her."

His ears perked immediately.

"You know those aren't good for you."

Another whine.

"Don't look at me like that."

His tail slapped the seat harder.

"Traitor."

For the first time all day, something close to a laugh escaped me.

The station, the videos, Walker's questions all seemed impossibly far away for those few seconds. Out here there were only trees, fog, and the familiar glow of the cottages hidden between them.

I rolled slowly past Seraphina's place without really looking.

My brain simply wasn't working anymore. I was running on muscle memory and caffeine, moving because stopping would've meant thinking, and thinking meant seeing Clara's face all over again.

I just wanted to get Max inside. Get a shower. Sit down for five goddamn minutes. I pulled into my own turnout and switched off the engine. Silence settled over the clearing.

The ticking of the cooling engine seemed unnaturally loud as I climbed out, stretching the stiffness from my back. Every muscle protested. My shoulders felt like someone had poured concrete into them sometime around yesterday morning.

I opened the rear door. Max didn't wait. He launched out of the cab the second the latch released, landing hard on the gravel before disappearing across the clearing at a full sprint.

"Hey!"

He never even looked back. I watched him tear straight past my porch. Straight past my front door. Straight towards hers. A tired smile tugged at one corner of my mouth.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, shaking my head as I headed for my own steps.

"I feed you every damn day, and you still pick her."

The dog had made his choice weeks ago. Apparently, I was just the guy who paid the vet bills. I bent to unlock my front door. The first bark drifted through the trees. Sharp. Happy. I barely registered. Probably announcing his arrival like he always did.

I slid the key into the lock. The second bark echoed across the clearing. Different. It stopped my hand halfway through turning the key. My fingers tightened around the brass. Something about it...

The third bark split through the night. Deep, hard and commanding. Every muscle in my body locked. My pulse didn't spike. It dropped.

Three warning barks.

Danger.

Years of military training erased every other thought before my brain had time to catch up. Some instincts never leave you. Some sounds become hardwired into your nervous system until the day you die.

Three warning barks from a trained dog meant one thing. Something was wrong. The keys slipped from my fingers. I never heard them hit the porch. I was already running. I hit the gravel so hard loose stones sprayed out beneath my boots.

"Seraphina!"

My voice tore through the clearing. Nothing answered. Not even the birds. Max wasn't barking anymore. He was whining, low and broken. The sound clawed straight through my ribs. I rounded the side of the cottage at a sprint, my lungs burning from the cold air.

Max stood frozen beside the back porch, every muscle in his body rigid. His nose was pressed against the screen door, claws scraping uselessly against the wood as another desperate whimper escaped him.

"Seraphina!"

Nothing. No sarcastic comment. No laugh. No annoyed "I'm coming." Nothing.