It flicked along the baseboards, keeping itself low and long, barely visible against the dark carpet. When it neared the still gesturing husband, it began to curl upward and around his legs, elongating and stretching, spreading itself ever finer, until it was nothing more than a smoky cloak covering his back. Then it seemed to melt into clothes and skin, and disappear.
Becoming a part of him.
The change, when it came, was quite sudden. The gesturing and shouting ceased, and an unnatural calm filled the void.
The woman didn't even seem to notice the silence, let alone the sudden leap of menace in the air. She just blithely continued to make her coffee.
Time to get in there.
I took several paces backward, then blew out a breath and ran for the window, diving headfirst through the glass. It shattered, shards scattering everywhere as I hit the carpet and rolled to my feet. Mary turned, her mouth dropping into an O of shock, the teaspoon clenched in her right fist like a weapon.
The husband didn't react. Didn't look. Didn't seem to even realize I was there.
Or didn't care.
It was a chilling thought.
"Directorate of Other Races," I said, raising my badge to show her. "Mrs. Jamieson, we've reason to believe you're in danger."
She raised an eyebrow, amusement touching her lips as her gaze skimmed my admittedly somewhat bedraggled and bloody state. "And do Directorate personnel often bust through people's windows wearing torn dresses and party shoes?"
"Only when we need to, ma'am," I said, my gaze on her still unmoving husband. "If you'd just drop the spoon and move around the bench toward me, we'll get you out of here."
She laughed. "So who am I supposed to be in danger from?"
I hesitated. "Your husband is not - "
She laughed again, the sound this time harsh and cold. "Frank? He's a spineless little turd who's all talk and no action. In the bedroom, and out of it. Hence the little diversions he's currently raving about."
And she was such a loving, understanding wife.
Christ, why did people like this even get married, let alone remain that way? Surely divorce was better than this sort of misery.
"Ma'am, you'll just have to trust me on. this one. Please walk around the bench and come here."
She sniffed, but put down the spoon and began to approach me. The minute she did, the husband moved. Or rather, launched. Headfirst across the bench, straight at his wife.
She screamed and backed against the fridge, hands raised to protect her face. I swore and dropped a shield, reaching for her husband mentally.
And hit a wall.
Not a psychic wall, or even an electronic shield, but a wall that felt shadowy and thick with evil. The dark soul wasn't about to let anyone else take over his revenge.
The husband grabbed his wife and forced her to the ground. I couldn't sec them thanks to the bench, but I could hear the smack of flesh against flesh and the resultant squeals of pain. I shoved my badge on top of the bench then ran around it, grabbing the husband by the scruff of the neck and tossing him backward. He hit the kitchen cabinets with a grunt, but almost immediately came back at us, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, his fists swinging.
I ducked both blows then grabbed him two-handed, lifting him up and tossing him back across the room. Then I grabbed the woman's arm and hauled her to her feet.
"Now do you believe me?"
She nodded, her split lip bleeding and one eye already beginning to close. Fear flicked through her remaining eye, and the smell of it overran the scent of lilies and sex wafting off her.
"Good," I said. "Now listen."
The husband had landed amidst the broken glass, and had sliced his hands in his efforts to scramble to his feet. Blood dripped onto the tiles, the thick red color becoming a match for his eyes. A result of the possession, or the first indication of a body getting ready to die? I shoved my car keys into Mary's hand.
"There's a black Ford with Directorate plates three doors down. Get in there, lock the doors, and don't come out until I tell you to. If you see your husband coming out of this house alone, start the car and get the hell out of here. Don't go anywhere he knows, just drive until we contact you." I looked at her. "Understood?"
She nodded, lips trembling. "But Frank?"