Last Kiss Goodnight - By Gena Showalter Page 0,118
pinning her to the ground with his weight. “But whatever will you do now?”
She laughed.
So gorgeous when she’s amused.
“I’ll take pity on you and keep my knees to myself.”
“Not sure that’s wise. I have no plans to take pity on you.”
Thirty
Do not let kindness and truth leave you. Bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.
—PROVERBS 3:3
NIGHT FELL, BUT SOLO wasn’t tired. And neither was Vika, judging from her flurry of activity. She had raided the dresser drawers and the closet and had withdrawn everything in need of repair. Now, she sat in front of the living room fire, sewing, a soft orange glow enveloping her, the pile of clothing beside her.
Six times she’d shown him the work she’d done, watching his features intently. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he made sure to lavishly praise her efforts. And she was good. He just wished he knew what thoughts rolled through her mind.
A light pressure on his right cheek had him turning. X stood on his shoulder, frowning at him.
Can’t you hear me? His voice filled Solo’s head.
“No. My ability to hear has been given to Vika again.”
Vika looked over at him.
How—Never mind. I have to tell you something. And I’m so sorry. I didn’t know until too late. I tried to stop them, but I failed. I’m so sorry.
“What are you talking about?”
Dr. E. He’s here.
“I know. I spoke with him.”
No. He’s here. With Jecis. Dr. E told him where you were and led him to the cabin.
Solo jolted to his feet. Vika followed suit.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
Silent, he stalked to the living room window and, kneeling, peeked through the crack in the curtains. All appeared to be well. There were no moving shadows. The trees weren’t swaying. And there was no way Jecis could have bypassed the security as Vika and X had. He was too big, too heavy.
Still, Solo sealed the crack and stood, grabbing Vika’s hand and leading her toward the secret passage to the garage. It was in the bedroom, underneath the bed. He crawled under, shoved the rug out of the way, and pushed open the door. A yawning pit of darkness greeted him. He’d already been down there and checked everything out. Had already loaded the truck with everything they might need, just in case.
Dust coated the inside of his nose as he maneuvered onto the first step, helped Vika do the same, then shut the door and quickly descended. He reached the floor and flipped the light switch.
Nothing.
He flipped it again.
A vibration against his chest, and he knew Vika was speaking.
“I need to—” he said, and stopped. Something about the air . . . wrong, familiar . . . terrible . . . thick and cloying, filled with evil.
Jecis and Dr. E were here, in the garage, he realized.
Laughter suddenly reverberated inside his head. Again, familiar. Dr. E’s. A moment later, a fiery skull with red, glowing eyes appeared at the other side of the room, its mouth open, its sharp teeth revealed.
That skull sped into motion, a mere inch away from Solo in a single blink. He jerked Vika behind him, hoping to shield her from whatever was about to happen, just as those flame-drenched bones reached him—and swallowed him whole.
• • •
Vika heard a thump.
A second later, light flooded the cold, underground room Solo had led her to, and she saw that he was on the ground, motionless, his eyes closed. Concern overwhelmed her, and she began to bend down to help him—when she caught sight of Jecis, Matas, and Audra, standing at the far wall, and froze.
They’d found her.
Horror and dread mixed, forming a toxic sludge in her veins. Jecis was scowling, Matas was grinning, and for once Audra was gazing at her with sympathy. She was pallid, and she was shaking, no longer a pretty woman. Her face was swollen, discolored and scabbed from Jecis’s rings.
Scabs Vika herself had borne many, many times throughout the years.
Despite his amusement, Matas, too, looked as if he had come into contact with her father’s fists. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there was a knot on his jaw.
They each wore summer clothes: tanks, lightweight pants. Yet still their corruption managed to cloak them. The misshapen skull she’d glimpsed inside Big Red stared at her through her father’s eyes. Dark shadows hovered over Matas’s shoulders, thicker than before.