The fresh blisters on my chest were still burning, sending hot pains inward through my flesh to join every other ache that was plaguing me. My hands were stinging and had grown sticky with the blood I already knew was seeping from the abrasions. The muscles in my arms throbbed from being stretched and overworked during my escape from the bonds. Tying it all together was the almost blinding pain in my skull. In the back of my mind, I knew grounding and centering would probably go a long way toward at least dulling that last angry stab, but I wasn’t exactly in a position for such an exercise.
Exiting the hallway, I immediately slammed into the corner of a chair, catching it with my hip and yelping as I careened from it before stumbling out into the living room. Going from the lighted bedroom straight to the darkness of the rest of the house was playing havoc with my sight, not to mention that my eyes were still blurred and watering from the torture I’d just endured. If that weren’t enough, my glasses were still on the nightstand.
I suddenly noticed that the atmosphere in the house actually felt warm against my skin. Since it was still dark, I knew the offset on the thermostat shouldn’t have caused the temperature to rise just yet. It was then I realized that the warmth was relative. The bedroom had simply been colder than the rest of the house as a side effect of its unwanted ethereal occupant.
I aimed myself to the right, heading through the dining room and crashing against the table then stubbing my toe on a chair leg. I knew it wasn’t only the darkness causing me to keep falling over myself; it was the rampant fear as well.
Quite the opposite of what Helen Storm had assured me when I had relayed my suspicions about my dream, I truly was afraid of my wife. Not just of her, but for her as well. Of all the horrors I had so far experienced in my life, and they were countless, this combination was the worst of them. So much so, that even my body had stopped responding to the signals from my brain.
I tried to wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and managed only to foul them somewhat with the blood. I pressed forward, trying to control my wild frenzy and blinking hard as my eyes continued adjusting to the dimness. There was a dull light coming from the kitchen, so I headed for it, still totally unsure what my plan of action was to be other than putting distance between the two of us.
For a split second, I thought of simply bolting out the back door, climbing into my truck and leaving. That would certainly get me out of harm’s way. Of course, it would also mean turning around and getting my keys, but that wasn’t the worst of it. If I left, it would mean Felicity would then be alone, except for the Lwa inhabiting her. I knew from experience that wasn’t a stellar idea. The last time it had happened, she disappeared, and it had taken several hours to find her and almost cost a man his life. In reality, even finding her then had only been accomplished by the grace of pure luck.
My only option was to stay and face her down. Even with what she had done to me, I was still stronger than her and had both a height and weight advantage. Of course, the last time I had taken that particular path, she had fought back hard, and as much as I hated to admit it, she won. The simple fact that gave her the upper hand was that she had been perfectly willing to inflict damage. I, however, was not.
It was no different this time around. It didn’t matter what she had done to me so far, or would do in the coming minutes, because I knew it really wasn’t her. I simply couldn’t bring myself to harm the vessel I knew as my wife, no matter what the consequences for myself.
I half fell through the doorway of the kitchen, grabbing the frame and swinging myself around behind the wall where I finally stopped and waited. Listening intently, at first all I could pick up was my own pounding heart and heaving breaths. I reached for my chest and flinched as my fingers brushed the blistering burns. Then I continued to hug the wall as I strained to hear anything more than the sounds made by my own body.
I furtively glanced up toward the microwave and saw the large, luminous numbers on the digital clock. They read 3:47. Turning my head back toward the doorway, I pressed myself against the cool wall and watched the darkness as my breathing began to slow and my heart rate shifted down from overdrive and into the lower gears of panic. I kept listening, but still, I heard nothing.
My fear was still fully intact, but it had become a manageable burden as I concentrated on picking up auditory cues. However, as I stood there, a new hollowness filled the pit of my stomach. My revolver was loaded and resting in my sock drawer back in the bedroom. Felicity knew right where it was, and that meant so did the Lwa. While I suspected she wasn’t through torturing me for her pleasure just yet, she had also demonstrated a definite instinct for survival. I could easily conceive of a bullet shattering my future, and Felicity’s as well.
Still hearing nothing out of the ordinary, my mind started to race. If she actually had the gun in hand, she was liable to take one of two different paths. Either she would come around the corner at any moment and splatter me across the front of the refrigerator, or she would simply sit and wait for me to come to her. I suppose it all depended on whether or not she was afraid I would actually leave.
Either way, simply sitting here waiting wasn’t accomplishing anything.
“Think, Rowan, think!” I admonished myself in a low whisper.
Unfortunately, ridding oneself of malevolent spirits wasn’t as easy as it was made to look on television. Three drop-dead gorgeous sisters, clad in the latest fashions, whipping up a “potion” from ingredients they had lying about the attic, then vanquishing evil without mussing their hair or smudging their makeup was undeniably a spectacular visual. But, it was also flat out Hollywood fiction.
I knew there wasn’t much of anything in this kitchen that was going to help me in that respect. Or, was there? I quickly flashed on the last time Felicity had been inhabited by the Lwa when we were in her Jeep. My remedy that time had a stolen bit of spellwork, and I had attempted to force her to drink salt water. The basis was sound. Salt would purify and protect. The water as well, while also acting as a rapid delivery system. I hadn’t succeeded that time, so I had no idea if it would really work. However, I couldn’t help but remember how agitated the Lwa had been when she became aware of what I was trying to do, so apparently I had been on to something.
I looked over at the clock on the microwave and saw that it read 3:54. Seven minutes had passed while I stood there pondering a solution, and still nothing had happened. Shooting another glance at the dark doorway, I inched away from the wall and padded slowly toward the sink, keeping a nervous eye focused over my shoulder. It wasn’t until I was actually up against the counter and reaching for the cabinet that I took my gaze away, and then it was only for a second.
Rummaging about, quietly as I could manage, I wrapped my hand around a sport bottle bearing the logo of a local computer repair company. A promotional giveaway I had picked up at a convention some time ago. Unscrewing the top while shooting random glances toward the doorway, I began to fill the container with water.
The bottle had reached almost half full when I cast my eyes to the end of the room yet again. Finding it clear, I looked back to the faucet. A heartbeat later the sound of a soft thump hit my ears, coming from directly behind me. My heart instantly fluttered, jumping into my throat and staying there as my knees went weak, and the pit of my stomach tightened into a knot. My grip automatically went limp, sending the bottle to clunk down into the sink and begin spilling its contents. Whether out of reflex, fear, or my knees just stopped working, I cannot say, but I fell to the floor and stayed there.