On My Way - Eve Langlais Page 0,55

grocery store meat section was my go-to for meals.

Feeling a bit better given I didn’t hear any tapping, or see any eyes, I carried my load of wood to the wood stove. Kneeling on the floor in front of it, I dropped most of the split log chunks alongside. With one piece of kindling in hand, I reached for the latch and swung open the small hatch.

Something lunged from within.

“Eek!” I screamed and swung. Thwack! The creature in my wood stove squawked and fell away from the opening. Quickly, I slammed the hatch shut, catching it on a spindly limb. Screech.

The thing loudly voiced its displeasure and, worse, refused to give up. I slammed the door again and again. When it finally yanked that bent limb inside the stove, I managed to latch it closed.

Breathing hard, fast, wheezing breaths, I rocked back on my heels. How had it gotten in there?

My gaze followed the line of the round metal pipe. It must have come down the chimney, which made me wonder—What other openings did this house have? My gaze went to the main floor bathroom slash laundry room with its washer and dryer. The dryer vented outside. I ran across the room, skirting the couch, and reached for the doorknob on the bathroom. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the winged monster squatting on the dryer.

“Yack!” It spat at me

I yelled, “Fuck!” because it seemed most apt and yanked the door shut. I couldn’t lock it, though. Surely the bird couldn’t open it.

The knob rattled. I backed away. The stove rocked on its ceramic base.

I moved away from it, too.

Something tapped at the window.

I kept my eyes on my feet and didn’t look. I stepped over the edge of the circle in the entrance.

Get inside a circle.

Kane’s command returned to me. I didn’t understand how it would help with my home-invasion issue but…I didn’t even know what was infesting my place. Monster came to mind, and while I wanted to cling to the belief monsters didn’t exist, I couldn’t deny what was right in front of my eyes.

Maybe getting inside a circle didn’t make sense, but then again, neither did the creatures attacking my house.

I knelt on the floor, keeping my limbs tucked inside the lines, and clueless as to what came next. Kane never said if I should chant some magical verse.

Shit. I should have grabbed a weapon. How would I protect myself? The nearest potential would be a knife in the kitchen or the poker by the wood stove. Both meant leaving the round spot.

I glanced at the wood stove, rattling on its base, then over to the kitchen that still seemed so quiet. That decided it for me. I shoved to my feet and left the circle. The house shuddered. I paused, hands out to my sides, steadying myself. Earthquake?

It didn’t reoccur, and I kept moving for the oven and the knife block beside it. I’d grab the biggest one. The cleaver of all cleavers. I tried not to think of what would happen if I actually had to hack something with it.

As I reached for the blade, I noticed it, creeping out from under the sink, an oozing mass almost like a plant, except I could see it moving. Inching toward me.

The house shifted underfoot again. Startling and worrisome. A crack zigzagged across the ceiling, the plaster chipping.

Not good. Would these tremors cause too much damage and instability? What if my house became condemned? Where would I live? How would I fix it?

Practical thoughts ran through my mind as my fingers remained wrapped around the hilt of the biggest knife.

Rattle.

My gaze flew to the vent. The kind that you pressed a button and a fan whirred on, sucking up smoke and—

My eyes widened just as the grille over the hole to project smells outside fell with a clatter. A dark, spindly body followed.

I did the proper thing and shrieked. Acting on instinct, and no skill whatsoever, I also swung my knife. I didn’t feel it actually entering any flesh, and yet the creature squealed, and I gaped as a line opened across its chest.

The injury didn’t kill the monster, but it sure made the damned thing mad!

Claws out, it dove, reaching for me.

So guess what I did next?

Yup. Screamed. It didn’t help on roller coasters. It didn’t help when scared. And it didn’t help when being attacked by determined flying gargoyles.

The name fit. Winged, clawed, with animal-shaped hind legs but arms ending in