Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

The guy in reception called out again. I plastered myself back against Jaime. My heart kept thumping. I tried to calm down. It was just a guy. At worst I could play receptionist and get rid of him.

Yet the self-talk didn't help because it wasn't the guy making my heart race. I kept thinking about that flash. A niggling doubt in my gut told me to look again.

I peered out and jerked back so fast I elbowed Jaime.

"What--?" she began.

I clamped my hand over her mouth. My heart was thudding so hard now I could barely draw breath. She tugged my hand away and mouthed, "You saw it?"

I nodded. What had I seen? I didn't know. My brain was throwing out bits and pieces like a jammed movie camera.

Not human. No, not humanoid. That's what had my mind stuttering, because it wasn't human and it wasn't beast, and that wasn't possible. I lived in a world of monsters, but they were all recognizably human. Only werewolves could change form. This . . . This wasn't a werewolf.

Eyes. I'd seen eyes. Cold, unblinking, reptilian eyes scanning the room. Looking for us.

Forget what it was--it was looking for us now and when it found us . . .

Blood. I'd seen blood and gore dripping from misshapen jaws. I stared at the smear on the floor and now saw more than drag marks. I saw claw marks.

"Hello?" the man called. "Jesus Christ. Someone's gotta be here."

A creak. The door opening. A growl. An inhuman cry, half shriek, half snarl.

I leaped from my hiding spot. The thing flew at the man. Literally flew, leathery crimson wings billowing out. Its beaklike snout opened and it let out another horrible cry.

"Holy shit," the man said. "Holy fucking--"

I hit the beast with an energy bolt. Or I tried to. What came out was a spray of harmless sparks that showered the thing. It gave a screech, more annoyance than pain, and reared back. Four taloned feet flashed. All four grabbed the man. Grabbed him and ripped. Blood sprayed. An arm landed by my feet. The man was screaming. All that blood, and that arm lying at my feet, and the man was still screaming.

Jaime had to drag me a couple of feet before I snapped out of it. I pushed her along ahead of me as we ran for the second door. My sneakers slid and squealed on the blood. A grunt from across the room. The beast. The man had gone silent now. Thank God he'd gone silent. But that meant the beast had heard my shoes.

Jaime wrenched open the door. We tumbled through. I yanked it closed. The beast hit it with a thud, the wall shuddering. I held it shut with both hands, my feet braced. It threw itself at the door, over and over, shrieking.

Jaime grabbed my shoulder. I lifted my hand to brush her off, then realized she was holding out a steel baton. We jammed it into the handle. The door rocked twice more. Then stopped. Talons clicked on the linoleum as the beast retreated.

I glanced at Jaime. She didn't ask what that thing was or how it got here. Right now, it only mattered that it was here.

"It's looking for another way in," Jaime whispered.

"Which means we need to find another way out."

I turned. We were in an office. The chief's office, I was guessing. Big, spacious, filled with natural light . . . all coming from skylights overhead. Barred skylights. No other exit.

There was a shout. Then an earsplitting screech. I spun toward the door.

"Holland!" I said. "We forgot about--"

A scream cut me short. The same kind of horrible scream I'd heard from the man who'd been torn apart.

Jaime gripped my elbow. "Too late," she said. "We need to find a way out."

I stood frozen as the scream was replaced by wet smacking and grunting as the creature devoured the young officer. Then everything went quiet.

I pressed my ear to the door.

Jaime tugged me back. "It just remembered there's a bigger meal in here."

I took a step and nearly landed on my ass. I looked down at what I'd slipped on--the extension of the blood trail that came through the door.