Part 24 (2/2)

John got to his feet. Leah deserved a chance to be normal again. If that was even possible. Which meant he had to be there in case she needed his help. He owed her his life several times over. He wasn't going to let her die because of saving him.

”Okay, G.o.d. Let's see if I'm right, that she's not going to suck the life out of me.”

His hand shook as he grabbed the doork.n.o.b.

If he was wrong, he was going to wish she'd never cured him.

A heavy wind pulled the door from John's hand the moment he cracked it open. Gla.s.s shattered as it slammed against the wall. Although whatever was happening was out of sight around the corner, the effects of Leah's supernatural form were evident in the gale-force gusts that swirled through the halls and the flashes of red light in the other corridor.

Someone cried out for help. It didn't sound like Leah, but John broke into a run anyhow, the instinct to provide a.s.sistance a part of him after so many years as a cop. He rounded the corner and found the hallway blocked by a roiling cloud of black mist. Reddish lightning flashed inside it, illuminating a vaguely human form that he knew had to be Leah. Dark tendrils of energy-like the ones he'd seen before, but larger now-whipped back and forth and all around, making him think of a wounded octopus. As the h.e.l.lish nimbus churned the air, John caught a glimpse of two men on the other side.

Men who were writhing on the floor like they'd been plugged into the world's largest electrical socket. The absolute terror on their faces made John glad he couldn't see what new changes had happened to Leah.

He didn't want to know what she looked like, what she'd turned into. He just wanted to make sure she stayed safe. And if there was no chance of her becoming human again, he wanted to make sure he escaped to let someone know about the imminent danger she represented.

One of the night-black tendrils separated from the others and slowly extended in John's direction. He remembered how fast they'd moved before. In contrast to those lightning-fast strikes, this one seemed to be toying with him. Or trying to make up its mind about what to do. Then it rose up a few feet and John knew it was about to attack.

Except before it could, the hallway filled with the metallic chatter of heavy automatic gunfire, large machine pistols, or possibly MACs or HKs. The living storm cloud blocked most of his view, but he saw shadowy figures moving toward where the two men now lay motionless on the floor.

Something zipped past him like a wasp on steroids. Belatedly, John realized he should've hit the ground when the shooting started. Machine pistols packed more than enough punch to tear through a person and kill anyone unlucky enough to be behind the intended target.

So why hadn't he been hit?

Sparkles of light caught his attention. Tiny fireworks were exploding around the edges of the churning cloud that surrounded Leah. He remembered the way the other men had shot at her with no effect.

The safest place to be is right behind her.

John darted forward, positioning himself directly behind the center of the dark ma.s.s. He kept one eye on the weaving tentacles as he stayed in step with Leah's protective s.h.i.+eld, which was slowly advancing on the men attacking her.

More of the tentacles formed and shot forward.

A second later the gunfire took on a disjointed rhythm and then stopped. Somebody screamed a long, drawn-out wail that was quickly joined by others. Just as quickly, they all ended.

In the resulting silence the sound of John's breathing and the blood pounding in his ears seemed like cannon fire. The cloud ceased its forward movement and dissipated slightly, allowing him a view of a pale, human-shaped object in the center.

An object that was rotating around to face him.

Later, John would thank all the G.o.ds in the universe that he never got a clear look at Leah in that moment. He believed with all his soul that seeing her face would have a.s.suredly stopped his heart, like a modern Medusa. Even obscured by layers of gray and black, it was too much to bear, so inhuman that her previous dead-looking countenance was pleasant by comparison.

John fell to his knees as sharp pains coursed through his guts. His bowels threatened to release and he squeezed his eyes closed, petrified the cloud would part and her lethal gaze would melt him on the spot.

A terrible sound filled his head, a cross between insane laughter and the growl of a prehistoric beast. Teeth clenched and body shaking, he waited for the cold touch of a tendril on his neck, a teasing stroke before it wrapped around him and drank the life from his body.

When several heartbeats pa.s.sed, and then several more, with nothing happening, he carefully opened his eyes.

And found Leah lying unconscious on the floor.

Chapter Twelve.

Leah opened her eyes and found ghostly faces hovering over her. Three of them, their features blurred to the point where they almost disappeared into the background of gray and white. Smaller shapes moved within the orbs and sounds reached her, timed with the movements.

The faces are speaking, her brain told her. She tried to understand the words, but her hearing was working as poorly as her vision.

One of the faces moved closer.

”Aya. Aya. AYA. C...n...you...ear me?”

Leah wanted to shout at the face to speak more clearly, but when she tried, her lips refused to move. The rest of her seemed paralyzed as well. That worried her. Had she been in an accident? Broken her back or neck? She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her body. See if she could sense what was wrong.

Something sharp jabbed her in the arm and her eyes popped open of their own accord. The face staring at her was a bit clearer now. Familiar.

John?

She still couldn't speak his name, but he seemed to sense she was aware of his presence.

”Leah. You're okay now. Everything will be fine.”

Feeling began to return, a pins-and-needles tingling like her foot had fallen asleep, only instead of her foot it was her entire body. She tried again to move, and this time her arm rose up. She reached for John, desperate to feel his touch, to have him comfort her and take the fear away.

He glanced at her hand and backed away.

Why? she wanted to ask him. What's wrong? She felt hurt, betrayed, sad and other things that she couldn't express, even to herself. Because it was too hard to think about them.

And she was getting sleepy.

She closed her eyes, unaware of the tears sliding down her cheeks.

Images filled the darkness, a hundred different movies playing on a hundred different screens that surrounded her. No matter which direction Leah looked, dozens of movies played in endless loops.

A man on his knees begging for his life.

A wild-haired demoness floating in a black cloud.

Desiccated mummies crawling across the ground.

John bleeding to death on the floor.

Cement and plaster exploding in a strange hallway.

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