didn’t get close. Nor did I loosen my grip on the gun. I wasn’t about to be that stupid chick in the movie who thinks a wounded monster isn’t dangerous.
It lifted its head and grinned. “Kill me and more will come. For we are—"
I shot it in the head and immediately stumbled back as the body ignited into an inferno, like the gargoyles but bigger and brighter. Hotter, too, because when it was done, unlike the others, a scorch mark remained on the floor.
Slam.
The back door closed as my cat sauntered in from outside. About freaking time.
“Welcome back. You missed all the fun,” was my sarcastic comment.
Grisou walked up to me and rubbed against my legs, purring.
I kept the gun in one hand and scooped him with the other. Rubbing my cheek on him, I murmured, “What do you say we take care of the monsters in the bedroom?”
Up the stairs we went, me setting my cat down just before I had to shoulder the hatch open.
My room was a mess but gargoyle free. The first aid kit was under the bathroom sink. It didn’t take long to pour alcohol over the scratches to clean them. I said some very unladylike things. I had to wrap a bandage around my arm. I might need stitches, but the bleeding had stopped. I’d had a tetanus shot within the last few years, but I did worry about rabies.
However, I wasn’t about to get in my car and drive to a hospital. How would I explain my injuries?
Yeah, so I fought off some gargoyles and their demon lord.
I’d end up in a padded room for sure. Better I stay home. After all, I’d done it. Fought monsters and demons and saved my house. Already it was looking healthier.
I, on the other hand, was a shaking mess. With the danger gone, the adrenaline wore off. Forget sleeping in my room with the broken window. I snared my phone and returned downstairs, where a lamp glowed softly. The power had returned. The window over the woodpile had its shutters closed tight. All the windows did.
There was a pillow and blanket on the couch. As if I could sleep.
I plugged in my phone then perched on a kitchen stool, back to the fridge. I sipped on a hot cocoa that appeared beside me. Had I made it? I cradled the gun in my hand as the creamy sweetness did its best to soothe my nerves.
What had just happened? I’d been attacked. By monsters no less.
Or could it be…had I met my first orcs? Maybe Trish wasn’t crazy after all. I thought about calling her. I eyed my phone. It had a few percent, enough to call if I left it plugged in.
First, I tried Winnie and got her voicemail. I left a message. “Hey, so, um, can you find a place for the night because, I, um…” I needed something plausible that wouldn’t panic her and send her home. I was trying to avoid her coming near the house in case the troubles weren’t over. I swallowed my hot-cheeked embarrassment and said, “I have a friend over. A, um, male friend.”
I immediately hung up, embarrassed. Hoping she didn’t think less of me.
I took another sip of the hot cocoa and blinked. My eyelids were getting so heavy. I couldn’t sleep. I needed to call someone else. I should…
I woke in my bed, tucked under the covers, head on my pillow. The cat was snuggled against me.
Wait a second…
I bolted upright. My gaze slewed to the window. Unbroken. The disarray I could have sworn I’d seen? Gone. The bed was intact, despite it having been slashed to ribbons.
I glanced at the blanket I clutched. Unfamiliar. As a matter of fact, I didn’t recognize the sheets on my bed, and the mattress felt firmer.
“Did you replace it?” I muttered aloud. Had my house fixed itself? After the night I’d had, anything was possible. Except, had it been real?
A shove of my sleeve showed no bandage and my skin unbroken but scarred. There was a line of white as if I’d had it for a long time.
Rising from my bed, I threw on a robe and headed downstairs to find the windows just as staunchly shut. The woodstove upright. Nothing amiss. Or so I thought. I glanced at the circle on the floor where I’d confronted the demon. My heart stuttered to a stop.
The scorch mark from when the body incinerated remained. And as if to taunt me, I