Part 5 (1/2)
And then there was silence from the woman. So chilling, so still, it left an acrid aftertaste in Phoebe's mouth. She ran her tongue over her lips in nervous contemplation.
What the h.e.l.l was going on? Demons and werewolves, mind reading and teleportation. Vampiric one-night stands gone horribly wrong, and blood drinking and a mystery woman with a rash. All of it began to crash down around her. Phoebe fought to hang on to the here and now, clenching her teeth and willing herself to stay conscious.
No one moved. Not even Nina, who watched the woman with concerned eyes while she ran soothing circles over her skin. Mark's labored breathing became the only sound in the room, a harsh but rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
Sam's eyes flashed worry. He leaned back in toward her again, his next words filled with the frustration she knew he was experiencing. ”Not long until what? I don't know what you mean!”
Like a shooting iron ball from a cannon, the woman bolted upright. ”Until you diiieeee!” she screamed in an agonizing wail before collapsing.
Yet, this time when she fell back to the couch, she didn't lay still. She writhed in an excruciating dance of horrified screams, slapping at her flesh as though her skin had suddenly become an insufferable suit of armor she had to rid herself of.
Her arms flailed, clapping against Sam's skin when he attempted to hold her still. She tore at him, rearing up and bucking against his chest. Red welts began to appear on Sam's ruddy cheeks where she scratched at him like a wild animal.
But Sam held her firm, refusing to let go, forgetting his own pain in favor of this stranger's safety.
Nina came around the arm of the couch in a flash of color, placing her hands on either side of the woman's head, hovering near her, whispering soothing words. Her eyes sought Wanda's from over the top of Sam's head, and they held a frantic question.
But Mark voiced it when he yelled with a terrified, trembling squeal, ”What. The. h.e.l.l?”
”I don't know how much longer we can hold her, Wanda!” Nina howled. ”What the f.u.c.k is going on?”
Wanda shoved Mark behind her with so much force he toppled backward, cras.h.i.+ng into their small antique buffet and slamming against the wall. ”Stay back!” Wanda ordered over her shoulder at him.
But all eyes fell to the woman when she roared, her mouth falling open with the force of the howl's ejection from her throat. It was so much like The Exorcist, Phoebe, even in her heightened state of terror, wondered if Mark wouldn't pa.s.s out from the fear. She rushed to his side, scooping him up like he was nothing more than a dirty sock left lying on the floor. She propped him up against the wall, then flew across the room to aid Nina and Sam.
Her eyes met Nina's over the woman's screams, and in that moment, she saw the tiniest hint of admiration for her. Phoebe wrapped her arms around the woman's legs, throwing her torso on her to keep her from cras.h.i.+ng to the floor.
Yet keeping her from harm turned out to be the least of their worries.
She spewed one final scream of agony, long and eerily high, and then there was a crack, brittle and harsh, punctuating the room in an exclamation point, followed by an ear-splitting tear.
Of flesh.
And bone.
Like some weird time-lapse photography you might see on the Discovery Channel, the woman's hair went from stunningly blue black to gray. The strands became wispy and drifted from her head like cobwebs, floating off and disappearing.
Horror washed over Phoebe when her flesh began to fall away from her snapping bones, turning to ash, crumbling as though she were made of stone.
She was withering, Phoebe's brain screamed, aging and decomposing right before their eyes.
Mark's high-pitched scream of fear was the last thing Phoebe heard before the woman turned to dust.
Phoebe fought the dizzy rushes of panic and sank back on the couch, catching sight of the pile of ashes on her couch.
Now that would definitely leave a stain.
CHAPTER 4.
”Sam?”
”Phoebe.”
”Let me clean those scratches,” Phoebe offered from behind him, pus.h.i.+ng her eyes downward to the floor to avoid the strange l.u.s.t his broad back stirred in her. This was without a doubt the most inappropriate of times to find she was physically attracted to a man. ”She really got you good.”
He lifted his dark head from his position over the sink and looked into the mirror; his left eyebrow rose in response to his lack of reflection. ”I think that's taken care of,” he remarked, dry and tired. ”At least it feels like it is. I can't tell for sure because I can't see myself.”
Phoebe's head shot up, her eyes straying over Sam's shoulder to glimpse his jaw. He had no reflection, but she did. Wow. Sam also had no scratches. Her jaw unhinged much the way it would at a half-off MAC makeup sale.
”Yay, vampire,” he drawled.
The left side of her mouth lifted in a smirk in response. ”Yeah. Booyah. I'd get my pom-poms and make up a cheer or something, but my thinking cap's in the shop right now.”
Sam rubbed a knuckle over his forehead. ”I want to be freaked out. I should be freaked out. Yet I find myself not only horrified but amazed that I just self-healed.” He shook his head in bewilderment, turning it from side to side with short jerks.
Phoebe reached out to run a finger over the place where a deep scratch had cut across his sharp cheekbone in an angry slash just twenty minutes ago.
It was gone and in its place, the clear, pale reminder of their new state. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand back, tucking it under her arm with a stern mental reminder to her fingers to quit straying where they didn't belong. ”Mark mentioned what you do for a living. That you're more amazed by something so astounding, so unbelievable rather than drooling and rocking in a corner ranks you high on the Trekkie list of all-time sci-fi geeks. I imagine you'll be given your own Enterprise as a reward for stoicism.”
Sam chuckled, deep and resonant in her small, mint green and white bathroom with the mosaic tiled floor and claw-foot antique tub. ”I think my own s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p isn't as out of the realm of my possibilities after what's happened tonight.”
The easy moment between them pa.s.sed and reality settled back into the pit of her stomach. ”I think you're right. So why do you suppose I can see my reflection but you can't see yours?”
”The Great and Powerful Vampire Oz decided it was more likely you'd miss seeing yourself in the mirror than I would?”
”Follow the yellow brick road,” she murmured.
Sam ran his wide hand over his hair and turned to face her. ”Is Mark all right?”
Phoebe had changed into a pair of jeans and a long camel-colored pullover sweater. She plucked at the front of it, guilt for exposing Mark to this without even a little warning at a premium. ”Define all right. If you mean does he still know who he is and what year we're in, then, yes. He's all right. Was picking that information out of all the other babbling he's doing easy? Then, no. He's not all right.”
Sam grimaced, his concern for others warming her from the inside. ”Will he be?”
She managed to smile up at him. ”Mark's not as weak as he appears right now. It takes him about a week to get over even a horror film that's just a little scary. When we saw A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time, I thought he'd never sleep again. But he did-it took the lights on and some Prozac, I think, but he did. So I'm guessing with this being a reality, it might take some time for it to sink in.”
”So at least two weeks' recuperation?” Sam teased.
”And a few hours at a good day spa with an extra-long ma.s.sage.”
Sam gazed down at her, his chocolaty eyes intense, his scent warm and inviting. ”I'm sorry, Phoebe. None of this would have happened if not for me.”
Phoebe's lips pursed. ”I'm trying to be the bigger person and not blame. But if forced to call names, none of this would have happened if not for Raging Bull.”
”Oh, stop trying to b.u.t.ter me the f.u.c.k up by calling me nice things behind my back and get out in the living room,” Nina cackled in her ear, making her jump. Nina stopped short when her gaze went to the mirror. ”Holy s.h.i.+t. Wouldn't it just figure that out of the two of you, Glamour Puss Barbie can still see her reflection? This is officially most-us f.u.c.ked-upp-ed-us. Somethin' just ain't sittin' right. You two are like outsider vampire.”
Sam barked a laugh-one Phoebe didn't share. ”You're so inclusive, Nina. It makes me squishy on the inside.”