I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could, the whole damn lot dropped down, covering both the floor and me in a mass of tiny black bodies.
Horror filled me, and for a moment I couldn't move, frozen to the spot and praying like hell that this was nothing more than a nightmare. Then thousands of tiny fangs began to dig into my flesh, and I screamed and jumped and swung Amaya around wildly, swatting at the creatures I could barely even see.
Azriel pulled me into his arms, then swept us away. We reappeared in my bathroom, but it wasn't enough. I could still feel the fangs. I raced under the shower, throwing off my clothes and stomping on the black bodies that fell like rain around me. Despite the heat of the water, I was shivering like crazy, and my skin crawled with the sensation of movement.
"Are there any left?" I asked, spinning around almost wildly, trying to spot the creepy little bastards.
"No." Azriel caught my arm and made me stop. "They're gone. It's okay."
I shuddered. "It still feels like they're on me."
"No." He hesitated. "But we should go back—"
"There is no way in hell I'm going back into that room."
"If you'd let me finish a sentence occasionally," he said, voice a mix of amusement and annoyance, "I was going to suggest you talk to the manager while I investigate the room to see if the woman left anything behind in her haste to escape."
"Oh." I gulped down some air in an attempt to calm my still-racing pulse. "That I can do. Just wait until I get dressed."
He handed me a towel. "I was not intending otherwise."
I raised my eyebrows. "If I didn't know you better, reaper, I'd suggest there was an almost propitiatory note in your voice when you said that."
"Then you would be wrong."
"Really?"
"Yes."