Beauty Dates the Beast(16)

“I know how you feel,” she said, twisting the key in the lock. Sara grabbed the doorknob and shoved against the door, only to bounce backward in surprise. “That’s weird.”

I scooped up the last of my junk and zipped my purse. “What’s weird?”

Her delicate brown brows furrowed together as she stared at the door, then back at me. “I think … I think I just locked it.” She turned the key again and the deadbolt clicked. “Wow, that’s really weird.”

Unease swept over me. I touched her arm before she could step inside. “Do you smell anything?”

She grimaced. “Just my perfume. We had a were-lynx in tonight and I dosed up just before you got there.”

I dug out my cell phone, clutching it tight. As I stared at my sister, the thought kept echoing in my mind that the wolves were looking for a runaway. “I’m going inside,” I said in a whisper. “You stay out here!”

“No way!” She shook her head. “What do you think it is?”

I couldn’t tell her yet, so I pushed the door open, putting a finger to my lips to shush her. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to step inside our small foyer. The interior was completely dark, filling me with fear. We always left a light on. Either Mike had turned the light off, or someone else had. “Wait here,” I whispered, knowing she probably wouldn’t.

Moving down the hall, I fumbled for the light switch. The hall light flicked on and I squinted, noticing that Sara had followed me in. Her nose worked as she scented the air.

I stared around the hallway, then took a few steps in. I could feel something was off, and unease spread through me.

“I smell … something,” Sara whispered.

“What is it?” My blood went cold.

“Almost like the garbage turned … like last night.”

Forcing myself to step forward, I headed for the kitchen. We had a baseball bat in the pantry for safety against intruders.

Upstairs, something shuffled and the floorboards groaned.

“What’s that?” Sara asked, though we both could guess.

I turned and shoved her toward the front door. “Go. Run.”

She shook her head at me. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

Damn it! My fingers gripped her arm and I dragged her toward the kitchen. “Come on,” I hissed.

The boards overhead creaked again, and whatever it was upstairs was heading in my direction. Our direction. In a few moments, it would turn the corner and come down the stairs.

Sara’s light frame made it easy for me to drag her along beside me.

“What are you doing—”

“Shhh!” I opened the pantry and shoved her in. “Don’t come out until I say it’s safe.”

“But—” Her eyes were wide, frightened.

“Just stay. Good dog!” I told her and shut the door.

The ceiling creaked overhead, loud, and I heard a heavy foot land on the top of the steps, then another.

I bolted around the small island and scrambled for the cutlery. Our big carving knife stuck out of the wooden knife-block, and I grabbed it, twisting the handle in my hands nervously.

The heavy feet continued to slowly stomp down the stairs, and I heard the scratch of claws as they landed on the hardwood floor at the base of the stairwell.

It wasn’t human.

The urge to scream in fear was overwhelming, and I forced myself to concentrate. If it wasn’t human, it was probably fast. That meant I had to be ready.

A thick, rancid smell filled the air, and the knife suddenly didn’t feel like enough. Whatever it was, it smelled … horrible. Like three-day-old, rotting-in-the-sun roadkill. And through it all, that horrible, slick clicking of claws.

A low growl sounded through the house.

I crossed the room. I wouldn’t be able to outrun or outmuscle it, but I could at least lead it away from Sara.

Emerging from the kitchen, I saw a dark shape turn to face me from the other end of the hallway.

It wasn’t a wolf, which surprised me. It was like no shapeshifter I’d ever seen before. It was some sort of cat … thing. Thick, bulging muscles distorted its body under the taut, dirty fur. The teeth were distended in a contorted snarl, and the eyes were red. At the shoulder it was twice as high as any normal lion, nearly to my chin.

Shit, I was going to need a bigger knife.

As the creature started toward me, I backed into the kitchen and slammed the door shut. It crashed into the door, which shook on its hinges. Gasping for breath, I darted to the island and yanked out my emergency drawer.

I pulled out a sharpened wooden stake and tossed it aside. Not a vampire. A cross, holy water, a mirror—all no good …

The doorframe rattled again, and I heard the sound of the wood splintering.

Hurry, hurry! My fingers closed around the plastic baggy where I kept the wolfsbane—it was empty. Shit. I frantically reached to the back of the drawer … and found it: colloidal silver—liquid silver mixed with water. The perfect anti-shape-shifter potion.

The beast on the other side of the door snarled, then the entire doorframe shattered. The red eyes stared at me, and the creature opened its long-fanged mouth and let loose an unearthly scream.

I slammed the top of the long bottle against the counter and the neck shattered. The creature took two steps toward me, and I flung the contents of the bottle on it.

A thick splash struck the creature across the face. It screamed in pain, skidding to a halt and writhing on the floor. One of the big, clawed paws tore at its face, and the yellow teeth bared in a hideous grimace. Then the undulating muscles rippled, and when the creature stood to face me again, my mouth went dry. Maybe colloidal silver didn’t stop this creature? …

It roared and burst out of the kitchen.

I grabbed my knife and followed it, skidding on the wet, dirty floor. A shard of glass bit into my foot, but I didn’t stop.

Glass crashed and the creature burst through the window in the living room, giving one more eerie, catlike scream as it disappeared into the night.

My breath escaped me in a whoosh.

Another window broke, this one in the foyer. My hand tightened on my knife again and I raised the blade, my eyes wild as another cat shifter burst into the living room. I threw the weapon at the creature. It dodged at the last moment, and my knife skidded across the carpet.

I took a panicked step backward, my eyes on the newcomer. Adrenaline blacked my vision, spots swimming at the edges of my sight. As I took another step backward something clicked, and I realized that the creature in front of me was a cougar, rapidly shifting back to human form. One of the Russells, maybe? Still watching over our house?

The cavalry had arrived. All the adrenaline rushed out of my body. Safe.

“Bathsheba!” Sara cried. I turned to her, scanning her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were glittering, her face wrinkling in the telltale sign that it was about to sprout a muzzle, and her arms were covered in thick, dark gray hair. Her feet were perilously close to the silver water, which would incapacitate her. “Sara! Get back! Don’t let them see you.”

“Forget about me,” she argued back, her words turning into a snarl as her teeth elongated and sharpened into canines. “Just don’t kill Beau!”

Beau? That threw even more panic into me, and I shoved Sara back into the pantry, ignoring her wolflike yelp. “Don’t come out until I’ve cleaned all this up,” I hissed, then bolted for the living room. I slipped on the wet silver spilled all over the kitchen and grasped the broken doorframe to keep my balance, then pushed into the foyer.

“Damn it, Bathsheba,” Beau snarled, eyes narrow as he looked me over. “Who were you going to stab with that knife?”

He was naked. Really naked. His wide shoulders were every bit as mouthwatering as I remembered, muscles clearly defining his lean frame. He had a fine six-pack and the most amazing hard ridge of flesh along his hip bones… .

“I ran out of silver,” I said blankly, still staring at his chest. It was remarkably perfect, without a hint of softness.

“Silver?”

“I … oh, yes,” I said, shaking myself free of the mesmerizing hold his abs had on me. “Don’t go in the kitchen. There’s silver water everywhere.”

He grabbed my wrist. To my surprise, he pushed me back against the wall, his hands grabbing my shoulders and running over my body in a fast check. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Answer me.”

Bewildered, I stared at him and tried to shove his hands away. “I’m fine—”

A low growl escaped his throat and he kissed me.

It was like being swallowed into the eye of a storm. All rational thought went out the window. His lips crushed mine, frantic and possessive. His tongue stroked against the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance and demanding my submission. It was glorious. I wanted more. I opened my mouth, my tongue seeking his. They touched briefly, then tangled. His tongue stroked along mine, lighting a series of flickering sensations along the rest of my body. Gasping noises emerged from my throat, followed by a possessive growl of his own. I needed this—oh, I needed this. His tongue was conquering, thrusting, dominating. God, his mouth tasted so sweet and …