The Shadow of Mist by Yasmine Galenorn

to the outer door leading . . . well, wherever it led.
    I glanced around the room. Four stalls, dull green, two sinks with faucets. And these were old-fashioned faucets—no run your hands under the sink and make the water come out technology here. A paper towel dispenser and a spartan-looking mirror hung on the wall. Track lighting illuminated the room with fluorescent lights. Windows lined the upper wall, letting in some natural light. Yeah, this was a utilitarian bathroom, all right.
    Camille dashed back. “It’s okay. We’re in the women’s restroom for Westmeyer Park. You get back in the tunnel and keep the door open a crack. I’m going to step outside and call Delilah to come pick us up.”
    I nodded, waiting as she disappeared out the front. A couple minutes later, she was back. “She’s on her way. She left Tim at your apartment. He’s still fooling around with your computer.”
    I let out a long sigh. “That’s fine.” I was tired; my back was killing me from walking in pumps—ever since I’d become pregnant I’d longed for flats, and all I wanted was to sit down somewhere and cry.
    Camille noticed and wrapped her arm around me. “Oh, Siobhan, everything will be all right. You wait and see.” She cocked her head. “I think I hear a car. Come on, it must be Delilah. The parking lot is just a few feet away from here.”
    I reluctantly let the tunnel door swing shut. The dark passage might be creepy but it had provided us a haven, and right now I needed shelter from the storms raging in my life.
    As Camille opened the outer door, she let out a startled cry. “Run! Siobhan, run!”
    Someone slammed the door open, sending Camille flying against the wall. She screamed as she hit the concrete and slumped to the ground, where she shook her head, dazed.
    I whirled back to the tunnel but too late—the door was closed and there was no getting in. With no other exits in the restroom, I ran toward a stall, thinking to lock myself in and maybe buy a few seconds.
    The swift scent of ozone filled the air as Camille shouted and a blast ricocheted against the walls. Freezing, I paused; then a man swore and, again, Camille shrieked.
    â€œSiobhan, you might as well give it up. You’re coming with me.”
    That voice, I knew.
    â€œTerrance?” I turned, knowing that no matter what I did, it would be too little, too late.
    Three men stood there: Terrance, along with two other men I recognized instantly by their scent as being full blooded Finfolk.
    Terrance motioned to them. “Keith, grab the Faerie bitch. Lon, keep watch.”
    The one named Keith grabbed Camille up in a bear hug, clapping a hand over her mouth as she struggled. The other took up guard on the door.
    I stared at Terrance as he slowly walked toward me. It had been a long time since I’d looked into those cold, blue eyes.
    â€œJust leave us alone. I’m not going with you. You can’t force me to go with you.” I backed up toward the wall, petrified. The look on his face was maleficent, his lips curled into a snarl.
    â€œOh, you’re coming with me, and as soon as we get rid of the whelp bastard you’ve got locked up in that oven, I’ll get you with my own child and that will seal the deal.” His eyes glimmered and he chuckled softly. “I’ve followed you for too long, over too many miles, to even think of letting you go now.”
    â€œNo, don’t hurt my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby.” I crossed my hands over my stomach. But then, fear turned to anger. This was my child , Mitch’s child , and if Terrance tried to hurt it, I’d rip him to shreds. “Get out of here or I swear, Terrance, I’ll kill you.”
    He laughed again. “Right, you go on thinking that. No, my dear, you’re coming with me and so is your friend. I know plenty of people who’d pay a pretty penny to give her a