Page 5 of Caution

Familiar, like what I'd experienced the other night.

My head whipped around, scanning my surroundings for a potential threat. When I didn't see anything in the well-lit lot, I shook my head.

“Please, Brosia,” I scolded myself. “Get a fucking grip.”

I finished locking up and started moving toward my car, reminding myself I’d already decided I’d imagined alotof what occurred that night.

I was exhausted, sleep deprived, and watched a lot of creepy shit.

Of course my imagination was wild.

I was almost at my vehicle when movement in my periphery pulled my attention.

From more than one direction.

Shit.

An immediate sense of dread washed over me as I put my back to the rear doors of my SUV, eliminating one possible angle I'd have to defend myself from. I let the crate of flowers drop, not caring about the mess as the wood splintered on impact with the concrete.

I needed my hands free—keys threaded through my fingers on one hand, my pepper gel back in the other. As my flowers spilled across the ground, my would-be assailants all drew back like they were weapons, as iftheyweren't the aggressors.

Because what the hell else could four motherfuckers be up to, sneaking up on a woman alone, shrouded in the dark?

“They can't touch you.” A familiar voice sounded from the dark, the sudden intrusion making them recoil again. I immediately recognized the voice as Mr. Black from a few nights before, standing by the exit to the building.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused, but not particularly… afraid.

Not of the others at least.

A strange feeling, like my fear had just been suddenly pulled from me.

“And… why are you here?” I continued, looking around from one shadowy figure to the next.

“You really don't know?” he asked and I shook my head.

“No! What the hell is going on?”

“They’re vampires, love,” he said, pushing off the wall where he'd been leaning to saunter toward me.

As he did, my potential attackers shakily stepped into better view, lowering the hoods from their heads in jerky movements, just another unsettling addition to this whole experience.

Seeing their faces was another.

Strangely pale, melanated, but… not? Their skin was like the color had been specifically drained from them, except for… around the edges?

Fucking weird.

And those red-rimmed eyes, just like theDaveedguy.

These people though… their eyes were wide and scared, facial muscles clenched like they were struggling.

I look back at Mr. Black. Cassius. That was his name, I somehow knew.

Or notsomehow.

Because he was my neighbor.

The neighbor that protested my roses.

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