She reached the landing and stopped. The odd-sounding snarl seemed much closer this time. Sweat trickled down her face. The flashlight flickered slightly, its beam fading, allowing the darkness to close in on her. Nikki swore and gave it a quick shake. The last thing she needed right now was the light to give up the ghost. Being stranded in total darkness was not a prospect she looked forward to. The light flickered again, then became brighter. She moved on but kept close to the wall, just in case. At least she could use it as a guide, even if the peeling remains of the wallpaper felt like dead skin against her fingertips.
The hallway ended in a T-intersection. Moonlight washed through the shattered window at the end of the left-hand corridor. On her right, there was darkness so complete it almost appeared solid. Monica was in there somewhere. Of that she had no doubt. But that odd sound had come from the left. Whatever it was, she had to check it out first. There was no way in hell she'd run the risk of being attacked from behind in a place like this. She turned left. Two doors waited ahead. One open, one closed.
Was it just fear or instinct that warned against entering either room?
The wind whispered forlornly through the shattered window, accompanied by a low moan that raced goose bumps across her skin.
It was definitely human more than animal. And it wasn't Monica. The teenager still waited in the darkness of the right corridor. Edging forward, she peered around the door frame. Nothing moved in the moon-washed darkness, but something was in there, nevertheless. The sense of malevolence was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.
So why do you not turn around and run?
The thought whispered into her brain, feather light but hinting at anger. Nikki froze, fear squeezing her throat tight. Just for an instant, her mind linked with another. She tasted darkness and concern and the need to kill. This was the man she'd half seen near the fence—the man who'd followed her through the fog.
Turn around and leave. You cannot help the child now.
No. Why could she hear this man's thoughts? Telepathy had never been one of her talents, even though she'd been able to receive Tommy's thoughts well enough. And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?
I merely try to save your life. You will not like what you find. Not in that room, and not with the teenager.
Yeah right. Who was this weirdo? A would-be prophet of doom? I have never run from anything in my life, and I don't intend to start now.
The lie gave her courage. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
* * * *
Michael Kelly hit the fence in frustration. The little fool had entered the room, despite his warning. Perhaps because of it.
She knew danger waited—he could taste the fear in her thoughts, despite the distance between them. So why wouldn't she run? Why did she continue this fruitless quest for the teenager? Given the strength of her psychic talents, she had to know the child was well beyond salvation. He let his gaze roam to the far end of the house. Hidden by the darkness, evil waited for his next meal, ably served by his young companion. Unless he intervened, Nikki James would become the fifth woman to go missing in this area.