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This was no product of her imagination.
Her mouth went dry. She squeezed the flashlight in her hand, nearly cutting off the blood flow to her fingers.
She tried to concentrate on the rattling sound but all she could hear was the soft whoosh of waves lapping onto a beach. Was her mind playing tricks with her? Because it would be impossible to hear the ocean from inside the building.
Then she remembered the window she’d crawled through.
Of course. The sound was coming though the now open window.
A rush of air swept through her. But instead of the cool night air she’d expected, this was a warm tropical breeze. A pleasant smell assailed her nostrils. Slightly sweet, and vaguely comforting. Lemons, maybe? Her arms erupted in goose bumps. But strangely enough, she was neither cold nor frightened.
A door slammed behind her. She spun around just in time to see a shadow dash across the room. The warm lemony smell vanished, replaced by a voice inside telling her that she was in big trouble. The door was padlocked. Which meant that whatever had gotten inside the building had bypassed the lock. Which was…impossible.
Allie tried to scream, but her throat wasn’t cooperating.
Luckily, her legs weren’t so chicken shit.
She turned to run but something charged at her, smacking her solidly in the chest. The air flew from her lungs. Her last thought before hitting the floor was that ghosts weren’t supposed to make physical contact. They needed Whoopi Goldberg for that.
She struggled to roll out from under whatever had attacked her, but it was no use. The thing on top of her was composed of solid bone and muscle.
“Hold still,” hissed a deep voice. For a second there, it sounded like… No, that too was impossible. “I told you the next time I caught you breaking into the place I’d call the cops.”
Allie nearly swallowed her tongue. She knew that voice. Hot, dark, male. And definitely alive.
