The Messenger

45

Amanda broke her stride and stumbled as her parents’ ghosts appeared in front of her. She just managed not to fall. Her father motioned her toward the house, but her attention was on the fading taillights ahead of her. She lost sight of them as the truck turned onto the road.

“Do you mean to harm him? To have him become a ghost?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

They shook their heads no, then pointed at the house again.

“If you love me,” she said, “if you have ever loved me, follow him. Find out where he’s being taken.”

Her parents glanced at each other, then turned to her. They pointed toward the house.

“All right, all right! But please…please…help me!” She drew a hard breath, fighting back panic and frustration. “I need you.”

With a speed that astonished her, they moved in the direction of the truck, then disappeared.

Could she trust them? She wasn’t sure, but Shade was with him.

She ran toward the house, wondering how, without Shade’s help here, she would stop a man with a gun from whatever harm he intended.

Evan heard the truck drive off and ran to a window. He was just in time to see a young woman running down the drive after it. He swore that if he saw Daniel again, he’d kill him. Then he’d find out if Daniel’s mother was alive, and if she was, he’d kill her, too, just for raising such a damned fool.

Although his own estimate of his intelligence was high, he could not decide what he should do now. Go after the girl outside, before anyone saw her out on the road and asked her what was wrong? Before she called the police? Or should he go upstairs as he had planned, finish that one off, and then kill the other one? It wasn’t as if either girl knew who he was, though, so maybe he should get out of here and save his bullets for the dog.

He scratched absently at the parts of his skin dampened by Hawthorne’s blood.

Maybe he should go outside and catch the girl and take her back to Adrian. After all, that was what they were supposed to do. Adrian always got mad if they did anything other than what he ordered them to do.

Completely ignoring the fact that he carried a firearm in defiance of his master, he pictured himself showing Daniel up by delivering the real prize. But, even without the girl, how was he going to get back home? He checked the garage. A Jag was parked there. Sweet. It was about to become his new ride.

Daniel had a lot to answer for. Evan decided he would catch the other girl and take her with him. Bring the blonde along as a bonus. That plan, he decided, would be best.

By the time he had worked through his plan, he saw the brunette turn toward the house. Now what was she up to?

Amanda remembered that the back door was open. When she neared the house, she began to move more cautiously. One of the men was gone, and so was the truck, but Tyler’s other attacker was probably still in the house. The idea of encountering him frightened her, but she didn’t want to leave Rebecca in his power for another minute-he might be hurting her even now.

Although her eyes had adjusted to the darkness outside, as she stepped into the kitchen, it was harder to see.

She knew her way around the house, though, and walking as quietly as she could, she made her way to the living room.

She listened hard but could hear no sound other than the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the grandfather clock. She reached the foot of the stairs and carefully began her ascent.

A night-light in the upstairs hallway allowed her to see that the door of the guest room Rebecca used was closed. Amanda had just taken a creeping step toward it when the ghosts of her aunt and uncle appeared. She drew in an audible gasp but managed not to trip or knock anything over. She was just feeling relieved about this when Aunt Cynthia motioned toward something over Amanda’s left shoulder.

The hall lights came on as she turned. The man who had carried Tyler to the truck was pointing a gun at her.

“Just step into that room,” he said.

Shade lay beside Tyler and breathed softly on his face.

Tyler’s eyes opened, but he squeezed them shut almost immediately, warding off pain. He felt the burn of fever spreading through his body, and fought to keep track of the words he wanted to say. After a moment, he managed a dry whisper. “Shade, I beg of you-protect Amanda.”

The dog didn’t move. Tyler forced himself to open his eyes. Shade seemed suddenly alert, staring at something behind the truck. The dog came to his feet, seeming to need no effort to maintain his balance as the truck swayed with the curves of the road.

“Please, Shade. Please help her.”

He looked at Tyler, came close to him once more, and again breathed softly on him.

The pain lessened immediately.

Shade stared hard into Tyler’s eyes, as if he wished to convey some message of his own, then turned, and in a single leap was out of the truck.

In his delirium, Tyler thought an elegant couple in evening dress joined him almost as soon as Shade was gone. They seemed familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he had met them. He could have sworn the woman looked at him in sorrow, and placed a pale, cool hand on his forehead, soothing the fever and bringing him sleep.