beauty, but a wicked flicker in the depths of her blue eyes told Creed that this one might be the most dangerous of all.
Riana. Where was Riana? His dizziness got worse. His head—God. Any second now, it would snap off his neck and float to the ceiling.
“What are you?” Merilee asked. Or did Merilee actually say the words? It seemed like the wind made the sound. The wind roaring in his ears.
Another shift. Riana again.
Total relief. Creed tried to focus on her, to speak up about the very real danger inside him, but he felt such a heaviness he wondered if his wrists would tear through the cuffs suspending his arms. Riana stared at him, her gaze at first distant, then knife-sharp and piercing.
Did he see uncertainty in those beautiful green gems?
If so, it vanished quickly.
The table shook beneath his heavier than heavy feet.
“What are you?” Riana’s mouth asked, but Creed heard the question in the deep, terrifying bass of the earth itself, groaning as it turned, turned, turned under the sun’s blazing gaze.
Creed’s thoughts crumbled. His muscles convulsed. His throat worked against his will. “Creed Lowell. NYPD. OCU. Detective Second Grade.”
His vision blurred.
A harpy made out of fire stood in front of him. Then a creature made of air, and finally, a woman-shaped being sculpted out of dirt and leaves.
What are you?
What are you?
What are you?
He feverishly gave his address. His birthday. Repeated his name and profession. Said he was dangerous, told them they needed to get him down and get him out of their house. Told them his relationship to Dominic. He even gave the name of his dead mother Grace, and his grandmother Delilah. And still they asked.
What are you?
“Human,” he muttered, even though he didn’t mean to. “And something bad. Something other. Don’t know—can’t explain. Let me go before it gets out.”
The pressures on his body and mind eased. Gentle hands caressed his shoulders and face. “Stay awake.”
Riana’s voice and touch roused him, brought him back from the edge of some dark, twisted place. He forced his eyes open, tried to hold her gaze, but she was gone before he even got oriented.
The questions started again.
Stop, he pleaded in his mind, as if Riana could hear him. This won’t end like you think. In the name of everything sane, stop!
Did he say any of that aloud? The other was rising again, getting stronger now, like an unstoppable wave of bile and heat and hatred. If it broke loose, if it changed him, would the grounding circle be enough to stop it?
Fuck.
Would Riana be inside the circle when it happened?
His ring hummed and jerked against the skin of his finger. Everything got louder, brighter. Colors flowed from the women—lavender around Riana, red around Cynda, and golden around Merilee. The colors shimmered and twinkled until he almost closed his eyes to get away from them.
The room around Creed swam and rippled. He stopped paying attention to anything other than controlling the energy inside him. The other had only ripped free against his will a few times before, always with the ring off, and oh, God. He had to keep that from happening.
“Don’t,” he tried to say—did he? Could he? “Dangerous. I’m bad. It’s bad. You don’t understand—”
Creed couldn’t make sense of much else, until someone gave him another drink of water. Someone with sweet green eyes, who gazed at him with mercy and horror all at once.
His heart crashed against his ribs.
“Riana.” He tried to reach for her, but his hands were still bound. “You have to stop. And get out of the circle. I’m not safe.”
He took another gulp of the water she offered. “I don’t know if the grounding will hold it—get away from me.”
She looked down, then climbed off the table again. But she didn’t go far enough. Not nearly far enough.
“Move!” Creed bellowed, struggling with the unnatural energy rising through his body.
“We’re perfectly secure,”
Riana. Where was Riana? His dizziness got worse. His head—God. Any second now, it would snap off his neck and float to the ceiling.
“What are you?” Merilee asked. Or did Merilee actually say the words? It seemed like the wind made the sound. The wind roaring in his ears.
Another shift. Riana again.
Total relief. Creed tried to focus on her, to speak up about the very real danger inside him, but he felt such a heaviness he wondered if his wrists would tear through the cuffs suspending his arms. Riana stared at him, her gaze at first distant, then knife-sharp and piercing.
Did he see uncertainty in those beautiful green gems?
If so, it vanished quickly.
The table shook beneath his heavier than heavy feet.
“What are you?” Riana’s mouth asked, but Creed heard the question in the deep, terrifying bass of the earth itself, groaning as it turned, turned, turned under the sun’s blazing gaze.
Creed’s thoughts crumbled. His muscles convulsed. His throat worked against his will. “Creed Lowell. NYPD. OCU. Detective Second Grade.”
His vision blurred.
A harpy made out of fire stood in front of him. Then a creature made of air, and finally, a woman-shaped being sculpted out of dirt and leaves.
What are you?
What are you?
What are you?
He feverishly gave his address. His birthday. Repeated his name and profession. Said he was dangerous, told them they needed to get him down and get him out of their house. Told them his relationship to Dominic. He even gave the name of his dead mother Grace, and his grandmother Delilah. And still they asked.
What are you?
“Human,” he muttered, even though he didn’t mean to. “And something bad. Something other. Don’t know—can’t explain. Let me go before it gets out.”
The pressures on his body and mind eased. Gentle hands caressed his shoulders and face. “Stay awake.”
Riana’s voice and touch roused him, brought him back from the edge of some dark, twisted place. He forced his eyes open, tried to hold her gaze, but she was gone before he even got oriented.
The questions started again.
Stop, he pleaded in his mind, as if Riana could hear him. This won’t end like you think. In the name of everything sane, stop!
Did he say any of that aloud? The other was rising again, getting stronger now, like an unstoppable wave of bile and heat and hatred. If it broke loose, if it changed him, would the grounding circle be enough to stop it?
Fuck.
Would Riana be inside the circle when it happened?
His ring hummed and jerked against the skin of his finger. Everything got louder, brighter. Colors flowed from the women—lavender around Riana, red around Cynda, and golden around Merilee. The colors shimmered and twinkled until he almost closed his eyes to get away from them.
The room around Creed swam and rippled. He stopped paying attention to anything other than controlling the energy inside him. The other had only ripped free against his will a few times before, always with the ring off, and oh, God. He had to keep that from happening.
“Don’t,” he tried to say—did he? Could he? “Dangerous. I’m bad. It’s bad. You don’t understand—”
Creed couldn’t make sense of much else, until someone gave him another drink of water. Someone with sweet green eyes, who gazed at him with mercy and horror all at once.
His heart crashed against his ribs.
“Riana.” He tried to reach for her, but his hands were still bound. “You have to stop. And get out of the circle. I’m not safe.”
He took another gulp of the water she offered. “I don’t know if the grounding will hold it—get away from me.”
She looked down, then climbed off the table again. But she didn’t go far enough. Not nearly far enough.
“Move!” Creed bellowed, struggling with the unnatural energy rising through his body.
“We’re perfectly secure,”
Similar Books
