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  slithered up next to him and rose slowly on his tail.

  He wore the little-boy head. Blood ran down the dead face like tears. The ill-fitting mask drooped

  around Jake-o's face. Tiny, sharp teeth caught the moonlight.

  The man cried out and stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet. Jake-o struck, biting

  down on his leg. The man screamed, so loud it echoed around the yard.

  The front door flew open. Through the blood-red haze of rage, Kevin heard pounding footsteps.

  Somebody grabbed him from behind and jerked him off his feet. He fought the strong arm, refusing to

  be dragged back on to the porch. He yelled and fought, clawing and kicking, until Sean threw him

  down on the porch and Tam fell on top of him, holding him down. Her arm was close to his mouth, so

  he chomped down until he tasted blood.

  She screamed, louder than the man was screaming, louder than his dad was hollering. Louder

  than Jake-o snarled.

  So loud it cut through the haze over Kevin's eyes. Heavy darkness fell over him, blacking out

  anything, everything.

  ****

  The moment the police left, Sean hurried upstairs, tight-lipped, and came down with the shotgun.

  Tam peered out the narrow windows beside the front door. “Are they coming back out tomorrow to

  look for him?” she asked. While the police spoke to Sean, she stayed with the paramedics as they

  checked out Kevin. She missed anything they might have said to him.

  Thunder rumbled across the sky. Lightning struck over the trees across the road. Tam blinked

  away the spiky afterimage seared into her eyeballs. Sean paused at the bottom of the stairs, checking

  the gun. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because nobody believes we saw a lizard drag off a grown man. Damn it, Tam, I’m not even sure

  I saw it.”

  Tam glared at him over her shoulder. “What, you think I’m contagious? My psychosis is rubbing

  off on you?”

  “Tam, it’s just…”

  Tam stepped away from the windows and hugged herself. “It dragged him off, Sean.”

  He stepped close and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She cringed to the left to avoid

  the barrel of the shotgun. It thumped against her shoulder. Most people would think it’s weird to

  have a shotgun included in a romantic embrace!

  “So what do we do, Sean?”

  “I’ll call Pastor Walty in a minute and tell him Mike showed up here. He was drunk, and…he left

  his car.”

  “And then?”

  Winterborn/ Roland

  76

  “He’ll have to file a missing person report in a couple of days.”

  Tam shook her head. “It seems really wrong.”

  “What else can we do, baby? I’m not going out there to look for Mike.”

  Tam agreed. “That thing is so strong. What if it tries to get into the house?”

  As tall as he was, Sean had to stand on a stepladder to get the gun on the hooks over the front

  door. He grunted and tapped the stock. “That’s why this is here.”

  Tam made a face and looked toward the stairs. “You know I'm not squeamish about guns in

  general, but one that can be reached by our resident demon...”

  “He can't reach it. There's nothing high enough for him to climb on, and we aren't letting that kid

  out of our sight. He can go to school, and when he gets back, he's either with you or with me. I'll get

  my work done fast, so you won't have to deal with him alone too often.”

  Tam sighed and sank down on the couch. Nearly every light in the house burned.

  “It's got a trigger lock,” he said, hopping off the stool and standing back. He held up a small key

  ring with a single oddly-shaped key. “I've got one key and it's on me all the time. You know where the

  other is.”

  “I'm still not sure keeping loaded weapons around that kid is a good idea.” Tam crossed her arms

  over her chest. Nothing will sell me on that idea. Nothing at all. “We're bound to wake up with him standing over us with a gun, or worse, we'll wake up dead.”

  “If you're waking up dead, we have more problems than a rebellious kid.”

  Tam rolled her eyes and leaned back against the overstuffed cushions. “Seriously, think about

  this, Sean.” She leaned forward again, propelled by another idea. “Did you see how he was just

  standing there while that thing chewed on Mike's leg? He was just literally standing there, watching.

  He wasn't scared. He wasn't running. It was almost like he'd sicced it on him!”

  Sean shook his head, his shoulders tense, his body screaming his inability to accept what had

  clearly happened. “He was just petrified.”

  “I think he called that monster.”

  “I think you're still adjusting to being off the drugs.” His curt tone silenced her. His words cut

  deep.

  “I'm not crazy, Sean.”

  “He's a kid. He has no control over that monster. Whatever it is. I’ll call Animal Control first thing. They'll find it and everything will be fine.”

  “Sean, baby—”

  “Zip it, Tam.” He gave the door a hard smack with his palm, deep lines of frustration etched into

  his face. “Look, I know the kid has issues. Runs in the family. He's just a kid. He's not some snake

  charmer. He doesn't have magical powers.” Sean headed for the stairs, turning off lights as he went.

  “He's just a screwed up little kid.”

  ****

  A dense gray morning greeted Tam late the next morning. She hung her feet over the edge,

  groaning. Last night had been horrible, full of Sean's nightmares as well as her own. Not to mention

  both of them waking up every couple of hours to make sure Kevin hadn't snuck out again.

  At the moment, silence enshrouded the house.

  She patted Sean’s side of the bed. Cold. “Sean?”

  The hair on the backs of her arms stood up and a chill ran down her spine. The room darkened,

  like clouds had rolled over the sun.

  She tucked her feet back under the covers. “Sean?” She said his name loud enough for him to hear

  her, if he was inside the house.

  The shadow under the bed reached out like it wanted her.

  More than shadows, it did want her! The deeper she stared into the deep gray dark, the darker the shadows became. A sense of hunger radiated from the amorphous form.

  Tam gasped and clutched the edge of the bed tighter. The darker shapes moved through the

  shadows, growing more numerous, thickening until the texture of the shadows became almost

  Winterborn/ Roland

  77

  tangible. She couldn't see the grain of the wood floors through the layer of shadows.

  Tiny red dots moved in the cloud in pairs. Eyes. Tam's heart began to race in her chest, and a cold sweat broke out on her body. Her thin T-shirt stuck to her back. A bead of sweat trickled down her

  arm and followed the contour of her arm to the outside of her elbow. The drop clung there, tickling,

  and fell into the shadows.

  It was like pouring blood into the shark tank.

  The tangible shadows roiled and bubbled, leapt up like fish, snapping tiny dragon jaws. Tam

  jumped back into the center of the bed, screaming at the top of her lungs. One of the shadow creatures

  flung itself high and landed on the comforter. It had a long body, serpentine, with spikes on its back

  and a head like an oriental dragon. It writhed and struck like an eel. Made of shadows, the outlines of

  its body were only in sharp relief when it crossed a patch of sunlight. Tam shrieked again and backed

  up against the headboard.

  It didn't like the light. When it hit a patch it screeched, a tinny, harsh sound that cut to Tam's

  bones. It continued to writhe and flop. She fumbled behind her head with one hand for the string for

  the drapes. Where is it? It always hangs about here!

  Her fingers finally closed around it, just as the nasty little shadow reached the indentation in the

  blanket around her feet. She kicked at it, but her foot passed right through its body, leaving an oily

  sheen on her skin.

  She yanked the string hard. The blinds shot up, crooked. The strings weren't even! The light that

  beamed through the windows was barely more than what was already in the room.

  The little shadow monster looped around her ankle, digging tiny, razor-sharp claws into her leg

  and dragging itself higher. She felt the jagged edges of the scales on its belly. Nothing she did, no

  matter how hard she kicked and slapped at her leg, dislodged the thing. It blended in and out with the

  gray light.

  You’re an idiot, Tam! She leaned over and whacked the bedside lamp. Bright buttery yellow light blasted through the room like flash fire.

  The needling claws vanished as the shadows disappeared like flares. Tam stared down at her leg,

  then down at the patch of warmly-lit, needed-to-be-polished-badly wooden flooring. The rug lay flat,

  undisturbed. Cautiously, she stepped down off the bed. The second her foot hit the floor the damn rug

  shot out from under her. She landed in a jackknife split that hurt so badly she curled up in a ball,

  grimacing.

  She opened her eyes and found herself staring into the shadow once more. It was still there, just

  waiting for her. The light from the lamp forced it to stay in one place, blocked in by laws it couldn't

  break. She opened her mouth to scream for Sean, whether he was in the house or not.

  Before she made the first sound, the bedroom door swung open and he stepped into the room,

  hitting the switch for the overhead light.

  “Wake—” he broke off mid-phrase. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “There's something under the bed!” She righted herself and scuttled backwards, away from the

  edge of the bed. “Sean, it crawled up and was on my leg and—”

  “Oh good grief, Tamsyn.” He marched over to the bed and ducked down. Tam held her breath,

  expecting the shadows to grab him. Then she remembered the light and the effect it had. “There's

  nothing here but shadows and dust. And I think that’s a pair of your underwear back there. I

  understand you have some paranoia issues, but now you’re scared of dirty panties?”

  “Why are you in such a nasty mood?” she asked, her fear forgotten in the wake of his bitterness.

  Sean sat on the edge of the bed and flopped backwards.

  Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. Keep Kevin inside, try not to go out at night. Even in the daytime,

  we shouldn’t be out there without some sort of protection.” He pointed toward the closet.

  “You and your guns.”

  He flexed his biceps. “You like?”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “You know you love me.” He dragged her down for a kiss. Her lips met his and she gave in, even

  though she thought, Do I?

  Winterborn/ Roland

  78

  Tamsyn touched his stomach, his chest. The hard muscles beneath his skin fascinated her.

  Mesmerized, she slid her hands under his shirt and rested her head on his chest. Still shivery and

  chilled by her latest hallucinations, she craved his strength, his warmth.

  “Seriously, what do we do? I mean, there’s a person missing on our property. And the monster

  that dragged him off is still out there.”

  He trailed his fingers along her shoulder before resting his hand on the back of her neck. “I don't

  know, baby.”

  “Kevin at school?”

  Sean nodded. He was quiet for a long time. “Are you all right?”

  Tam sat up on her elbow and looked at him. “Yeah. Why?”

  “You're seeing things again.”

  “I'm not crazy, or anywhere near it, Sean.” Tam sighed and lay back on the bed. “I think I'm

  seeing things that are really there...there.”

  “You aren't making sense.”

  Tam sat up again and rolled on her side, propping her head up on her elbow. “Spirits, Sean.”

  Sean ran his hand through her hair and nodded, weary. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I mean,

  hell, I just watched a lizard monster attack somebody. I'm not going to argue with you about it, but I

  want you to really...I don't know, just try not to freak out so often. I heard you shrieking from the

  yard. It didn’t sound like a nightmare.”

  “I was wide awake.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  The sound of something heavy and hard falling from someplace downstairs silenced her. Sean sat

  up, brows furrowed. “I left the back door open. Stay here.” He grabbed the portable phone off the

  nightstand and pushed it into her hand. On silent feet, he crossed the room to his closet and got his

  gun.

  Tam snapped her fingers softly. “I'm not staying her alone,” she mouthed. Sean rolled his eyes

  and attempted to argue with her via gestures but gave up and motioned for her to follow―quietly. She

  gave him a 'well duh' look and fell into step behind him.

  At the head of the stairs they paused, listening. Sounds came again, from the kitchen and the odd

  little room next to it that really didn't serve any purpose. The part of the house they couldn't see from the open landing. A long rectangle of light stretched into the dining room, the outline of the open back door.

  The scraping, thudding noise came again. Tam gave Sean's upper arm a tight squeeze. He glanced

  back at her. “Please stay,” he mouthed.

  She shook her head. The shadows darkened around them. Tam forced herself to stare at the light

  coming in the windows downstairs. Focus on the light. The things of darkness can't exist in the light.

  Sean started down the steps. Tam stayed right behind him, far enough away that if he needed to

  turn and run, she could, too. The living room seemed normal, as did the dining room, until they got all

  the way down the stairs, and could see into the kitchen.

  “Call 911,” Sean said, running the few steps to the bloody, damaged body that lay on their kitchen

  floor. Frozen, Tam could only stare until Sean yelled at her again.

  “We need an ambulance,” she stammered into the phone. The operator confirmed the address,

  and Tam dropped the phone, not caring if she'd hung up or not. She dropped to her knees at her

  husband's side. “Mike?”

  A black substance crusted the man's face and neck. He stank like an old grave. Tam touched his

  chest to calm him. Her hand came away covered in a sticky, oily substance with the consistency of dog

  drool.

  “Sean, his leg!”

  Sean recoiled, gagging. The flesh from the knee down had withered away. The limb looked like

  that of a mummy from a museum, old and shriveled, but moist instead of dry. The foot turned inward

  at an impossible angle, pointed up like a clubfoot deformity. Blackening veins traced their way farther

  up his knee and his thigh, prominent against the mottled, dissolving flesh.

  Winterborn/ Roland

  79

  “Don't touch him,” Sean ordered. Tam backed up, scrubbing her hand on a towel.

  “Sean, that's where that thing bit him.”

  “Baby, I know. Get a blanket or something to cover him up.”

  Unwilling to leave her husband alone with Mike, Tam leaned over and opened the china hutch

  doors. She reached inside and dragged out a tablecloth decorated with Santa and elves. A small

  avalanche of other junk fell out.

  Sean helped her spread it over Mike. Faintly, they could hear sirens wailing in the distance. Tam

  ran to the front door and flipped all the deadlocks, then cracked it open, so the paramedics could get

  in.

  Mike struggled to talk. Gray-green flecks of foam peppered his lips and ran from the corners of his

  mouth. Sean urged him to rest, to be quiet.

  From outside, they heard the slam of the car doors and the clamor of men running up the porch

  stairs. Mike's dirty, crusty hand latched around Sean's wrist. Two medics burst into the house,

  followed by a deputy. All three newcomers stopped short and stared.

  Mike cried out in pain and his back arched off the floor. Gouts of blood-streaked black fluid

  poured out of his mouth, so much he started to choke. The paramedics rushed up and froze.

  “What happened?” one cried out, visibly fighting to keep from getting sick.

  Tam shook her head, wringing her hands. “We don't know. We heard a noise and came

  downstairs, and we found him in here. We tried to report him missing last night but the idiot cops

  wouldn’t listen to us!”

  Another yanked on a double layer of rubber gloves. “What’s his name?”

  “Mike Walty,” Sean said, softly. Tam looped her arm around his waist, and he held her tightly, his

  face buried in her hair.

  The medics gave way to the ambulance crew who thundered in a couple of moments after yet

  another deputy arrived.

  Within a few moments, they hustled him out the front door on a stretcher. Tam and Sean hurried

  behind them and watched from the front porch as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.

  ****

  Sean hung up the phone and turned back to the table, mouth tight, face pale. Tam paused, her

  fork at her lips. “Baby?” she asked. “Who was it?”

  Kevin had a mouthful of broccoli, so much that green flecks stuck out of his lips as he chewed.

  With his mouth open. Making as much noise as possible. He stared at Tam the whole time, just

 

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