Deep Within The Shadows (The Superstition Series Book 1) by Teresa Reasor Page A

really hurt, and so was Samuel. She needed to call for help. Her bag was just out of reach behind the creature. The thing paced back and forth, its focus riveted on her every move. Without any eyes, how did it know where she was? What was that thing? And why was it after her?
    She glanced back at Samuel. He’d helped her, just as Tanner had. What if he died, too, because of her? She couldn’t be responsible for another man’s death. “Please don’t die,” she mouthed.
    If she called EMS now, she’d never be able to speak loudly enough to give them her location. They’d lose precious time trying to locate them or think it was a prank call.
    She tried to ignore the demented screams of the creature and focused on pushing away the pain and dizziness that threatened to swamp her. With an effort she centered herself and lowered her shields. A surge of energy flowed into her, embracing her like a long-lost friend. She gathered it to her, and immediately the pain in her chest and throat eased a small bit. While she waited for her head to clear, she spiraled the energy down into her hands.
    Earth to center and support him, water to cradle him in a womb of protection, air to blow each healing breath into his lungs, and fire to heat and ease his pain and suffering. Her efforts drained some of the energy from the creature, and it became almost transparent. She stretched her hands over Samuel. After five minutes he began to groan, and his eyes fluttered open. She broke off the healing, afraid he would feel what she was doing.
    As could happen when using energy to heal someone else, it had somewhat relieved the agony in her throat and chest, and her dizziness had ceased. She ran her hands over his pockets until she found a flat shape large enough to be a cell phone and jerked it free of his jacket pocket. What was she going to tell them? A gray creature trapped in a circle of light had attacked them? They’d have to see it for themselves. Otherwise they’d cart her off to the psych ward.
    She dialed 911. When she spoke, she sounded as if she were speaking through broken glass…and felt like it, too. “A man is unconscious at the corner of Seventeenth Street and Stoker. I—we’ve been attacked. I need an ambulance.”
    She gave the dispatcher all the information she had and then stayed on the phone. Five minutes seemed an eternity as she waited and watched the creature’s attempts to escape. Would it stay there until morning? Would daylight set it free? If it escaped, would it be able to find her again?
    She glanced at her purse, lying just out of reach. Though she no longer had a car, she still had her license and other identification in it. The creature had shown no interest in the bag, just her. As she looked into its horrible, blank gray face, she shuddered. Its face split into a dark, empty maw. It shrieked again, the sound wild with rage. Her fear wound tighter, and she covered her ears.
    Dear God, what was it?
    What would it have done to her if Samuel hadn’t intervened?
    An ambulance came around the corner, siren blaring, lights flashing. They’d see it, too, and maybe call the police. With a sense of relief, she turned to glare at the creature. The glow of the streetlight reflected off the empty sidewalk. It was gone.
    *     *     *
    Miranda stood at the door and kept watch for Caleb. The students had departed fifteen minutes before, and with no distractions, every minute stretched to at least five.
    She’d spent the time drawing some power to her, which had felt so unbelievably good she almost cried. It had been so long. But she wasn’t sure she’d be able control it—maybe it was like riding a bicycle, and once you learned you never really lost the ability.
    But her magic might not work against the entity they’d seen outside. And what then?
    She’d left all this behind as a kind of atonement, determined to live as normal a life as possible. But normal wasn’t what she’d gotten. She’d been