competition.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure. All I caught was the griping about how this other group interfered all the time,” Trick answered with a shrug.
A weird beeping resonated through the chambers and both he and Moss jumped like someone had goosed them both.
“Dudes, calm down. Seriously, you need to take a chill pill or some shit.”
Damien went in to throttle the kid and Moss, chuckling, put out an arm to stall him. They watched as Trick whipped out a small handheld device and using his finger, slid it across the screen and tapped it here and there. Damien shot Moss a funny look, and Moss leaned over to whisper something about a smart phone. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out the little thing Grace had handed him and flipped it open. He swiped his fingers across the little screen, which lit up, but nothing changed or happened.
“That’s a standard cell. Only makes calls or texts,” Trick said, glancing up from his phone.
“Texts?” Damien asked.
“Baby steps, buddy, baby steps. Just remember the instructions Grace gave about dialing. We’ll deal with the text stuff later,” Moss instructed with a serious layer of smart ass.
“You know about this texting, too?” Damien asked, surprised at how quickly Moss seemed to be adapting to the outside world.
“Oh yeah. Wait ’til I teach you about sexting. Amazing things have been happening while we were in the swamps, my friend.”
Before Damien could explore why this sexting caused his friend to grin like a big goober, Trick interrupted.
“Hey, you two need to listen to this. Shit’s happening in town.”
Both jolted to attention.
“Fires are breaking out all over. Some mystic shop and the library are going up in flames.” Trick stated reading from the phones small screen.
“What’s the shop’s name?” Damien had a bad feeling.
“I … uh, hold on, give me a minute.”
“Damn it, what’s the name?” Damien roared.
“Uh … mystic shop Whimsical Notions, owned by a … oh damn, dude.” Trick was already rising, ready to jet.
“That’s Grace’s shop,” Damien yelled as he raced from the chambers, not caring he hadn’t set his traps for unwanted visitors. He didn’t give a shit about his domain. His only concern was Grace. He’d made it the mouth of the cave when Moss’s bellow caught his attention.
“Try calling her.”
Crap, he’d forgotten all about the gadget she’d given him was a source of contact.
Yanking it from his pocket, he jerked it open and punched the number she’d given him. No answer. After it stopped ringing, he heard her voice instructing him to leave a message. Instead, he hung up and dialed again. Still no answer.
Something was very wrong. She’d threatened that if he didn’t answer she’d kick his ass.
He started to head off again when Moss stopped him.
“Let me try Beth. Maybe Grace is safe and with her.”
When Moss didn’t get an answer, they bolted. Damien knew deep down something terrible had happened.
If anyone harmed a hair on Grace’s head …
They wouldn’t live long enough to explain their actions.
Chapter Nine
Grace came to with the ragged sensation of being drug across a floor. Her head throbbed yet her foggy thoughts still went asap to Faith.
“F … Faith,” she sputtered trying to get whoever was helping her to understand her friend was in danger.
“Shhh, Faith’s okay. She’s being taken outside as well.”
She couldn’t manage any other words, but Grace recognized her niece’s voice and would thank her later. For now, her lungs burned and the coughing wouldn’t stop.
“Hold on just a bit more. The hunky fireman outside has oxygen waiting.”
She understood Beth only wanted to lighten the moment. Keep her calm, and she loved her for that. Right now though, the only man filtrating through the haze clouding her consciousness was a particular hunky shifter man.
After taking in quite a bit of oxygen from the young fireman she could admit
J. A. Redmerski
Artist Arthur
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Robert Charles Wilson
Phyllis Zimbler Miller
Dean Koontz
Normandie Alleman
Rachael Herron
Ann Packer