The Reaping - By M. Leighton Page 0,91

bathroom. That or I was just that preoccupied. Either way, not good.

“Leah, you scared me,” I said, breathless all of a sudden. I pulled my towel up to cover myself. Then irritation set in. “Don’t you knock?”

“I heard your heartbeat speed up again. I came to see if you were alright,” she said matter-of-factly.

On the one hand, I was relieved to hear her sounding more like Leah than a talking baby doll. On the other hand…

“I’m fine. Sorry to have worried you,” I said sharply.

“When did you get that?” She was looking behind me, at the mirror over the sink, at my tattoo.

“A few months ago,” I answered casually.

“Lucky for you tattoos are in,” she snorted then turned and walked out of the bathroom.

I turned toward the sink and put the handheld mirror away, saying to no one in particular, “I don’t know if my nerves can make it through the holidays.”

Less than an hour later, Leah and I were walking through her front door. We hadn’t called ahead. Leah wanted to surprise her parents.

When we rounded the corner into the living room, it was empty, but I could hear Mr. and Mrs. Kirby talking quietly in the kitchen just beyond. Leah stopped suddenly, her arm striking out, lightening fast, to grab my wrist as I continued on in front of her. The grip of her hand was like silk-covered steel as she pulled me back to her side.

“What is it?” I asked as I turned to Leah.

She was sweating and panting, saliva pouring down her chin in thick rivulets. Her eyes were wide and they darted around the room nervously. Her nostrils twitched as she smelled something and I could see the tips of several teeth, extremely pointy teeth, peeking out from below her upper lip.

“Carson, they smell so good,” she said, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Her fingers squeezed even tighter around my wrist. She moaned and threw her head back, lifting her nose into the air and inhaling deeply. “Ahh,” she breathed, her chest heaving.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked right at me, but I could see that the person looking out from Leah’s face was not Leah at all. Something else had taken over, something wild and dangerous, something deadly and thirsty.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Panic began to rise inside me. I couldn’t let Leah kill her parents. The one thing I knew for sure was that I had to get Leah out of there before something terrible happened.

I had the element of surprise on my side when I bent and rammed my shoulder into Leah’s stomach. Reflexively, she let go of my arm and doubled-over on a grunt. When she did, I wrapped one arm around her legs and lifted, pitching her over my shoulder. I took her right hand in my left and had her fairly subdued in a fireman’s carry. Luckily, Leah was a lot smaller than me, so I was able to get her out of the house before she started to struggle too much.

Moving as quickly as I could, I rounded the garage and set Leah on her feet, pushing her up against the siding. “Leah! Get a hold of yourself. Those are your parents!”

Leah wasn’t even looking at me. She had turned her head toward the front of the house and her nose was wiggling again like she was sniffing.

I pulled my hand back and slapped her as hard as I could. “Stop that!”

Leah’s eyes met mine and, for an instant, there was murder in their depths. At least it wasn’t that animalistic hungry look, though. I considered that progress.

“Leah, please! Snap out of it,” I pled.

She closed her eyes as if she was concentrating, though she huffed and panted a little more. When she opened them again, I could see my Leah surfacing in the chocolate depths.

“Come on, let’s get you back to my house,” I said, putting my arm across her shoulders, a very pal-like gesture, but one meant to ensure that I had some control over her if she decided to bolt.

Leah said nothing. And, though she nodded in agreement, my anxiety was only marginally eased.

I decided that we’d have less chance of being seen if we traveled to my house using back yards instead of the sidewalk so Leah and I took off around the back of the house.

We darted behind fire pits and barbecues, decks and trees, anything that we could hide behind as we went. I’d never thought to be pleased that none of our

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