R-rated--language, violent content.
The moist night air seemed to settle on my skin leaving a sticky feeling over my entire body. After wiping my brow, I cranked up the AC in my Karmann Ghia. The weather had been unusually hot for this time of year and I wanted nothing more than relax poolside at my apartment complex. But I was working a case for a wealthy client. His wife had disappeared with the kid and four million of his money. Mr. Rinaldo hired me to track down the Mrs. and get back his child and his money and not necessarily in that order. My trip to the pool would have to wait. The trail Vera Rinaldo had left led to a sleepy motel on the edge of town.
As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I knew something was hinky. First of all, there were no lights on anywhere--not in any guest rooms, not in the front lobby. Even the street sign sat dark. Though my Spidey sense tingled like mad, I climbed out of the car and edged toward the front office, keeping my right hand on my thirty-eight. Just in case.
A rank odor hit me, unlike anything I'd ever smelled. My gag reflex threatened to bring up the remnants of my dinner. Clamping my free hand over my nose, I pressed forward. The door to the office hung ajar.
"Hello?" I called out. No one answered.
I crept inside and kept my back to the wall. Holding my breath I felt to the side of the door jamb and finally found a light switch. The fluorescent bulbs flickered and buzzed, but eventually a dim glow filled the space around me. What I saw sent me reeling backward, through the doorway and into the vacant parking lot where I wretched up the pasta I'd had for dinner.
The walls appeared to have been painted in blood and chunks of flesh and bone had exploded into stucco patterns across them. Who--or what--the fuck had done this?
Fishing my cell phone from my pocket, my fingers fumbled with the buttons, but I managed to dial 911. Words to describe the nature of my emergency failed me.
"It's a blood bath," I told the dispatcher. "A fucking blood bath."
She'd just instructed me to stay on the line when a pair of large hands grabbed me from behind. A scream formed in my throat, but those massive hands muffled it.
"Shh," a low male voice instructed. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you can't stay here. It's not safe."
I threw my head back, hoping to crack my assailant in the nose, but only caught the edge of his collarbone. How tall was this guy?
"Listen, stop struggling. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he said, jerking me along toward a black Cadillac Escalade.
Oh hell no. No way I was going out like this. Biting, clawing, and kicking, I fought each step of the journey to the vehicle. If I could break free or at least delay the bastard for a few minutes, Erosity PD would be here. But he proved stronger than any person I've ever fought before. He shoved me into the back of the SUV and slammed the door shut. I tugged at the handle to no avail. My last hope, I yanked my thirty-eight and aimed it at the driver's side door. As soon as he opened it to get in, I squeezed the trigger.
"Damn it, lady," he swore, "I'm trying to save your life."
I'd missed? How the hell had I missed at this close range? Firing off two more shots, I knew one would have to put him down, disable him at the least. But his large frame hopped into the seat, pulling the door shut. He cranked the engine and then reached around to disarm me.
Tossing the gun onto the front floorboard, he tore out of the parking lot. I kicked at the back of his seat and screamed for help, but somehow he managed to keep driving. About a half mile down the road, he pulled over in a diner parking lot.
"This is where you get out." He rubbed his head where I'd landed a kick and climbed out of the SUV.
He didn't have to tell me twice. I jerked the handle on the back door and tripped out onto the pavement. A boom deafened me; it'd come from the direction of the motel. A tower of flame shot into the air and then dissipated with a crackling hiss. Sirens wailed from all directions.
"Did--did you do that?" I asked, my voice trembling. Searching his dark expression, I knew already he hadn't.
"No," he shook his head, waves of black hair fell into his eyes. "And no need to thank me for saving your life."
"Th-thanks." I wiped my hands on my torn skirt. "My name's Ruby."
"I'm Xavier." He nodded. "Nice to meet you."
"Yeah. Likewise." I turned my gaze back to the billows of smoke that blotted out the streetlights. What the hell was going on here?
"You want to get a cup of coffee, Ruby?" Xavier jerked his head toward the dinner.
"No," I replied and pointed to the bar across the street. A stiff drink seemed in order.
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