to snap alert when he heard a strangled cry from down the hall. He went rigid. This was just like the first time—Gordon calling out for help.
Last time Frank had gotten up and rushed to the other man’s aid. This time he lay still with every muscle and nerve screaming, praying someone else would hear the call and go to the rescue.
He pictured the scene, remembering how the woman in black had looked leaning over Gordon. Had she been in his room leaning over him when he’d had his cardiac arrest? And nobody had been able to see her.
Sitting up, he leaned toward the door, listening intently for assurance that someone else was going to take care of the Gordon problem. But he heard no running feet, no urgent questions from a nurse. Instead he heard Gordon moaning.
Shit!
Unable to lie there and let Lilith kill the man, Frank heaved himself out of bed. Was this the reason he’d left the prosthesis on? Because he’d known something was going to happen?
How could he? Or was this some kind of trick to get him out of bed. But why? There wasn’t any barrier at the door to his room. Anyone who wanted to come after him could just come in. He went to the closet and looked for the knife. He’d left it in the other plane, but there was no reason for it to stay there. In fact, it was where he had hidden it when he’d first decided he wasn’t going to stay weaponless in the hospital.
He pulled it down and pulled off the sheath, wrapping his hand around the leather handle as he hurried grimly out of his room. Once again the hall was bathed in green light, and once again it looked like the nurses were asleep at their station. So they could wake up in surprise when they found Gordon dead.
Frank clumped down the corridor and turned into the other man’s room, holding the knife down beside his right leg. His breath caught as he saw what he had expected. A blond woman wearing a slinky black dress and spike heels was leaning over the man in the bed.
Lilith, in the same pose as when Frank had first seen her in here.
But the scene wasn’t exactly the same. This time Gordon’s eyes were open, and his whole face was suffused with panic as he looked up at the figure hovering over him. Then his gaze swung to Frank, and hope bloomed on his features.
“Help me,” he croaked.
“You know I’m here?”
“Yes. Please, for God’s sake, get her away from me.”
Frank focused on Lilith. “Get the hell off of him,” he shouted.
She smiled at him, and he saw the true vision of evil lurking below the surface of her beautiful features.
“Thank you for coming. It’s you I want, not him.”
“Why?”
“It’s the difference between a bowl of oatmeal and a prime rib dinner. He’s boring. You would make a much more tasty meal.”
“You can’t have me. And you can’t have him either.”
She laughed—not a pleasant sound. “If you think you can stop me, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re the one who is mistaken. Get the hell out of here.”
“Not until I have what I came for.”
Frank saw Gordon staring wide-eyed at the exchange, but he ignored the other man, keeping his focus on the demon, or whatever you wanted to call her.
You shouldn’t be able to kill a demon with a knife, but then Frank shouldn’t be able to get into this alternate reality. Since he was here, anything was possible.
Still his chest felt constricted by giant steel bands as he advanced on the woman thing.
He stopped about four feet away, testing his balance. Last time she’d knocked him to the floor. He was going to let her think she could do it again, then slit her throat with the knife.
He moved as though he were unsteady on his feet, watching the satisfaction on her face. Then he lunged.
When he threw her off balance, they both went down. But he was already raising his arm to ram the knife into her chest, drawing a gasp from her. He pulled the knife free, raising his arm again as he jabbed the blade deep into her body.
“Die, you
Last time Frank had gotten up and rushed to the other man’s aid. This time he lay still with every muscle and nerve screaming, praying someone else would hear the call and go to the rescue.
He pictured the scene, remembering how the woman in black had looked leaning over Gordon. Had she been in his room leaning over him when he’d had his cardiac arrest? And nobody had been able to see her.
Sitting up, he leaned toward the door, listening intently for assurance that someone else was going to take care of the Gordon problem. But he heard no running feet, no urgent questions from a nurse. Instead he heard Gordon moaning.
Shit!
Unable to lie there and let Lilith kill the man, Frank heaved himself out of bed. Was this the reason he’d left the prosthesis on? Because he’d known something was going to happen?
How could he? Or was this some kind of trick to get him out of bed. But why? There wasn’t any barrier at the door to his room. Anyone who wanted to come after him could just come in. He went to the closet and looked for the knife. He’d left it in the other plane, but there was no reason for it to stay there. In fact, it was where he had hidden it when he’d first decided he wasn’t going to stay weaponless in the hospital.
He pulled it down and pulled off the sheath, wrapping his hand around the leather handle as he hurried grimly out of his room. Once again the hall was bathed in green light, and once again it looked like the nurses were asleep at their station. So they could wake up in surprise when they found Gordon dead.
Frank clumped down the corridor and turned into the other man’s room, holding the knife down beside his right leg. His breath caught as he saw what he had expected. A blond woman wearing a slinky black dress and spike heels was leaning over the man in the bed.
Lilith, in the same pose as when Frank had first seen her in here.
But the scene wasn’t exactly the same. This time Gordon’s eyes were open, and his whole face was suffused with panic as he looked up at the figure hovering over him. Then his gaze swung to Frank, and hope bloomed on his features.
“Help me,” he croaked.
“You know I’m here?”
“Yes. Please, for God’s sake, get her away from me.”
Frank focused on Lilith. “Get the hell off of him,” he shouted.
She smiled at him, and he saw the true vision of evil lurking below the surface of her beautiful features.
“Thank you for coming. It’s you I want, not him.”
“Why?”
“It’s the difference between a bowl of oatmeal and a prime rib dinner. He’s boring. You would make a much more tasty meal.”
“You can’t have me. And you can’t have him either.”
She laughed—not a pleasant sound. “If you think you can stop me, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re the one who is mistaken. Get the hell out of here.”
“Not until I have what I came for.”
Frank saw Gordon staring wide-eyed at the exchange, but he ignored the other man, keeping his focus on the demon, or whatever you wanted to call her.
You shouldn’t be able to kill a demon with a knife, but then Frank shouldn’t be able to get into this alternate reality. Since he was here, anything was possible.
Still his chest felt constricted by giant steel bands as he advanced on the woman thing.
He stopped about four feet away, testing his balance. Last time she’d knocked him to the floor. He was going to let her think she could do it again, then slit her throat with the knife.
He moved as though he were unsteady on his feet, watching the satisfaction on her face. Then he lunged.
When he threw her off balance, they both went down. But he was already raising his arm to ram the knife into her chest, drawing a gasp from her. He pulled the knife free, raising his arm again as he jabbed the blade deep into her body.
“Die, you
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