Anne Brontë Nightwalker

Chapter 15

Wet and dripping, I slide on my long velvet robe and meet Santos in the living room before he's made it too far. I keep back. Light streams through the open front door, turning my walls a rich, deep amber, a color I've never seen them. The golden edges of my books glint. Ivory keys of my piano glow. The deep violet of my robe gleams. How beautiful it all looks in the light.

"Get out!" I demand. My eyes flash. I step toward Santos, wanting to tear him to pieces.

He reaches for his Taser and I freeze. I'm torn between fight or flight, but either way is hopeless. There's nowhere to go and I cannot kill a deputy and leave his car, lights flashing outside, undiscovered until nightfall. An image of men surrounding my house, breaking down doors, assaults me. It will never happen because no matter what Santos does, I will not kill him.

I'm doomed.

The door opens wider and I shrink back. It's Professor Hardcastle, haloed in light. His eyes are a dark blue, wide with surprise. He steps inside and stops when he sees Santos, hand on his Taser. "Atticus, what in God's name are you doing?"

Santos catches himself and lowers his hand, yet remains tense as a viper ready to strike.

"Shut the door," I demand.

Hardcastle complies, then fumbles for a light switch in the darkness. A chandelier lights high above us, bathing the room in antique light. Crystals twirl and tinkle from currents swirling through my once peaceful home.

The men look around and Santos narrows his eyes suspiciously. A grand piano graces the living room, which is lined in tall bookcases from floor to ceiling with a slender ladder placed before one. Heavy embroidered drapes cover the windows. Persian carpets adorn the glossed oak floors. Before an enormous fireplace sits an umber velvet couch along with two vermillion wingback chairs. William Hardcastle looks momentarily dazed.

Other than contractors, no one has been inside my home. Beneath me, my legs tremble, and with all my strength I try to steady myself.

"What in God's name is going on, Atticus? Why are you accosting Miss Bell in her own home? You're terrifying her."

"She ran. She refused to pull over," he says, a restrained fury in his voice. He looks wild inside my living room, as if a feral dog has sneaked inside.

"I can't," I say. "I have XP."

"I know all about your fantasy ailment. It doesn't cause one to burst into flames. It's against the law to evade an officer."

"That's hardly reason to Tase someone," Hardcastle says in a tone of aristocratic authority. He steps between Santos and me, his tall body forming a human shield and reminding me of Papa. My head comes to the lower blades of his shoulders and I long to rest my forehead against his back, place my hands upon the soft wool of his coat and collapse into his strength.

"What are your reasons for detaining her?"

"I have questions. There was another attack in the woods. She carried a man twice her size up a steep mountain. Not dragged him, but carried him." Hardcastle glances over his shoulder at me, perplexed.

"I helped the boy walk up with me. He lost consciousness near the top and Dana and I carried him the rest of the way."

Santos' eyes blaze. "You're lying. There was only one pair of tracks, not two."

I shake my head in denial.

"What reason would she possibly have for lying?" Hardcastle asks.

"Because there's something about her that's not right. She's not normal."