Part 41 (1/2)

”Yeah, well. You missed the whole thing.”

”Tell me.” Looking all tall and dark and mysterious-the moonlight did amazing things for the man's face-he gathered my hair over one shoulder. Then-no surprise here-he started nibbling on my neck. Outside. In the middle of the front lawn.

”Jon ...” I said, tipping my head to give him better access. Little tingles were quaking through my body. They felt mighty good. I decided I didn't need to tell him about the party right now. It could wait. ”Where's Josh?”

”Up in his room. Why?” He nibbled on my earlobe.

”Because I don't think he should see us.”

”See us doing what? We're not having s.e.x ... yet. I'm just having a little snack.” He nipped at my neck.

”But I don't think he likes me as it is. I don't want him to dislike me even more.”

”What makes you say that?” He dragged his tongue down the column of my neck and I s.h.i.+vered.

”Because he hasn't spoken to me in days.”

”It's just stress. Tests. That kind of thing. Don't worry. He likes you just fine. Now, since you're so concerned about people seeing us, why don't we go inside?” Before I could respond, he scooped me off my feet.

Grinning at n.o.body in particular, I tossed an arm around his neck. As he climbed the stairs, I squinted at a dark shadow sitting smack-dab in front of the door. My blood, which had warmed up nicely, chilled. ”What is that?”

”What?” He halted at the door. ”Can you grab the doork.n.o.b for me?”

”What's under your feet?”

”Nothing.”

”It looks like something.”

”I don't see anything.” In he went. He set me on my feet before pus.h.i.+ng on the door to shut it.

I caught it just before it slammed, snapped on the porch light.

”Oh s.h.i.+t! What is that?” I stabbed a finger at the little pile of brown fur lying in front of the door. ”See? I told you I saw something.”

”It's probably a dead rabbit or cat,” he reasoned, acting as if it was no big deal to find dead animals lying on the welcome mat. ”I'll take care of it later.”

”But, Jon, there was a dead cat there last night. That's two nights in a row. Whoever heard of such a coincidence?”

”It's hardly a coincidence. There are a lot of stray animals around here. I used to leave food out for them. Some of them keep coming back, looking for more.”

Was I buying that explanation?

He licked the spot on my neck, the one that sent tingly s.h.i.+vers down my spine, and I decided I didn't care. If it was still there in the morning, I'd worry about it then.

Laughter. In my dreams. Women laughing. Talking. A party?

My eyes opened.

The laughter continued.

I wasn't dreaming.

Driven by overwhelming curiosity, I checked the clock. It was a little after midnight. I carefully extricated myself from Jon's embrace-yes, he was a cuddler when he slept-and went to the window.

More laughter. Shadows moving. There. It was coming from Samantha's yard.

I had to know what was going on. Having slept in a T-s.h.i.+rt and sweats, all I had to do was grab a pair of flip flops and quietly head downstairs. I bypa.s.sed the front door, opting for the French doors opening onto the back deck. Out I went into the cool, cloudless night. Yet another round of laughter beckoned to me, coaxing me to wander farther away from the house. My shoes smack-smacked under my feet, but n.o.body would hear. The laughter and lively chattering would drown out the sound.

Creeping closer, almost at the far side of Samantha's house, I kept to the shadows. For some reason, I didn't want Samantha, or whoever it was, to know I was spying.

But just as I rounded the far corner, everything went silent. No laughing. No chattering. Not even any insect buzzing. A strange chill raced up my spine.

I turned to go home. Stopped.

Were those ... ? Glowing eyes. Two. No, four. No ... six.

Three pairs of eyes were staring at me from the shadows between the houses. I had no idea what they belonged to. Dogs maybe. Big dogs. Instantly, the vision of that little scraggly Skippy came to mind. One of these ... dogs ... had s.n.a.t.c.hed him. I knew it. What would they do to me?

Nothing if I could help it.

I backed up, moving as slowly, as quietly as possible.

Avoid eye contact, I told myself, remembering the first rule of Aggressive Dogs 101.

Protect your head and neck.

Remaining standing, but turning sideways, I inched along the back wall of the house. My foot landed on something soft. Rubber.

Squeak.

d.a.m.n.

One of the animals stepped out of the shadow. It was big, muscular, a dog of some kind, with a long pointed snout and a thick, dark coat. For some reason, my gaze snapped to its eyes. Blue? A clear, ice blue. The dog's ears twitched, and I yanked my gaze away, hoping it wouldn't attack.

I lifted my foot off the toy and another loud squeak cut through the thick silence as the hollow rubber inflated again. I held my breath when a second dog cleared the shadows. It stopped a few inches behind the first, flanking it on the right.

Watching me.

Still. Silent. Tracking my movements.

The third stepped forward. It was holding something in its mouth. Small. Brown. Furry.

Now I had an idea where all the dead cats were coming from.

The dog with the dead animal slowly crept forward, ears back, tail low. I smooshed my back against the house and held my breath as it moved close, closer, too close. It stopped a couple of feet away, lowered its head, and dropped its prize onto the dewy gra.s.s. Then, moving just as cautiously as it had when it approached, it backed away. When it met up with the other two, the pack turned around and raced into the still, dark shadows.

Finally, I was able to breathe again.

Afraid the dogs would be back at any moment, I hightailed it out of there, das.h.i.+ng around the side of the house. Something jumped out of the shadows just as I was about to turn the front corner. I slammed into it, bounced backward and landed on my a.s.s. The air left my lungs with an audible ”oof.”