Page 25 of Strange Lights

Eldi looks at me disdainfully, eyebrow arched. But I see the moment her eyes soften.

“Maybe miss Goat,” she says, a smug grin spreading across her face.

The knot in my stomach finally loosens. I snort and shake my head before returning to my work.

But we both know I’m forgiven.

Darkness. So dark I can’t see. So dark, yet I know instantly where I am. The only place I can be, the only place that’s this dark, far underground. I can hear a child crying quietly. Soft, hiccupping, exhausted sobs. A little hand holds tight to mine, fingernails digging in hard enough to hurt, but I gently squeeze back.

I’m here.

Heavy, warm weight in my arms, a heartbeat fluttering against my chest, faster than my own. The sweet smell of cheap fruity kids’ shampoo hangs in the air.

Ladybird, Ladybird

The sound of my own voice repeating the snippets of the eerie song starts a stream of tears that silently drip down my face.

Fly away home

But the quiet sobs around me fade away.

Your house is on fire

I barely remember the lyrics, only what I’ve seen on the TV once or twice. I’m so tired.

Ladybird, ladybird, your children are gone

When I run out of words, I hum.

Then scratching, like claws, at the door. A child whimpers, and the hand clutches even more desperately to me. A breathy laugh crackles through the air like a bolt of lightning. The temperature plummets.

I try to run, but ice grows like frost on a window, freezing my legs to the floor. The weight on my chest is smothering me. The grip on my hand stings as nails grow like claws. Dig in so tight I think they might pierce me. My tears are freezing solid on my face.

Regina. Regina. Regina.

A mocking, singsong voice tickles my ear. Someone is behind me. I can’t run⁠—I can’t scream⁠—I’m being crushed⁠—

Reggie!

12

Metallurgical Magic

Suddenly, there’s a blinding light, and I’m in my bed in the Winnebago. The heavy weight is still on my chest, and panic clouds me. But I can breathe.

“Eldi,” I wheeze. Her face is inches from mine, and she’s perched like a gargoyle atop me. I blink against the blazing gleam Dave is shining directly into my eyeballs. I scream when I realize the tickle in my ear is still there. Dave withdraws a Q-tip-like appendage, and I shudder with disgust as I shove him off my pillow. Doug zips under the bed as I lurch upright, throwing Eldi off me with the covers. If I were feeling charitable, I might call Doug’s chirps and whirs contrite, almost apologetic.

“Put that away,” I snap at Dave, who hasn’t retracted his ear probe. He hisses menacingly at me as Eldi extricates herself from the tangle of blankets and bounces enthusiastically atop the bed.

“I should have taken you to the pound years ago,” I mutter under my breath. Eldi flips me off as she jumps wildly. Growling, she bares her fangs at me. “The pound! And you two can go with her,” I say to Doug and Dave.

Dave is at Eldi’s side, a loyal lackey egging her on. I don’t have to understand the words to pick up on the sentiment of his muttering. Yes, intimidation! Remind her who runs things around here now.

“Oh, quit it,” I say, batting away a new assortment of robotic arms inching toward me and flopping back onto my pillow with a groan. “You know I’m the only sucker willing to adopt a whole litter of defective cleaning products.” Maybe I shouldn’t have judged Calvin for his preferences in pets; Biscotti the hairless dog is looking like the easier houseguest by far. When Eldi first appeared on my doorstep, she was dog shaped. It had been a perfectly normal Thursday a couple of years into my gig as a traveling supernatural investigator. I’d been going over case notes for a supposed Mothman sighting when I heard a scratching sound and wet snuffling snorts at the front of the Winnebago.

A droopy-eyed bloodhound puppy sat on Winnie’s steps, panting happily. I took one look at those abnormally long fangs and her reflective, too-intelligent eyes and slammed the door.

“Absolutely not. I’m not a dog person.”