Page 36 of Fanged Temptation

But the thought of losing her again, of watching her recoil in horror, paralyzed me.

Sitting up, I let the blanket fall away, smoothing out the wrinkled saffron of my dress. I was more in love with her than ever, and the notion was terrifying, an emotional free-fall without the promise of a safe landing. I’d wanted to avoid this, to keep her at arm’s length. And yet, I’d practically thrown myself into her arms last night.

And now…Confusion.Contradictory urges.

“Fuck.” I burrowed under the covers again, but the torment continued all morning, and long after that too.

I spent the whole day moping around the houseboat, languidly shuffling around in my underwear and one of Leah’s old T-shirts. I wasn’t thirsty, but I downed a cup of stale coffee anyway. I wasn’t tired, but I napped on and off in random places – the foldout sofa, the wicker chair on the deck, forced down time and time again by an emotional exhaustion that wouldn’t let up.

In our time together, Leah’s pedantic tendencies had rubbed off on me and I eventually forced myself to tidy a few things around the boat. I folded blankets, fluffed pillows, and tinkered around in the kitchenette. The air in the cabin was thick and cloying, another suffocatingly hot evening in New York City.

When I finally curled up on the sofa with my nose in a nature magazine, I almost didn’t notice the faint rocking that gently swayed the boat.

Just the tide.I lay back, propping the splayed magazine over my face and closed my eyes. I’d lived there long enough to gain my sea legs and had adjusted to the light rocking of the boat, sometimes forgetting entirely that I was on the water at all.

A moment later, the rocking came again, only this time it was more obvious, tilting the boat with a sudden lurch that made my stomach flip. My head snapped up, the magazine sliding from my face.Maybe a stray wave? A speedboat or something? Except there was no accompanying engine noise from outside.

The boat tilted again, more forcefully this time, enough to make an empty glass on the side table rattle ominously on its coaster. I swore under my breath, trepidation prickling at the back of my neck.

A knot of dread coiled in my stomach. Someone was onboard. Maybesomething.

My heart lurched, a chill crawling up my spine.Calm down, a quiet voice of reason whispered in my head, but my palms dampened anyway. I edged off the sofa and moved toward the window, careful not to make any noise. The setting sun glinted off the rippling water, the scene outside deceptively calm – if you didn’t count the eight dark figures silhouetted on the jetty.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I backed away from the window. And jumped at the sudden, sharp knock on the cabin door.

My blood ran cold as I crept toward it, gently aligning my eye with the fish-eyed peephole.

I peeked through and there they were. More of them, the same wax-like beings I’d seen before – all of them well-dressed, plastic smiles stretched unnervingly wide across their perfectly sculpted faces. Their eyes, though, were dead and glassy, a parody of humanity.

They had found me.

Panic flared and I pressed a fist to my mouth, stifling the strangled gasp that burst from my throat. One of them reachedout an unnaturally long arm and knocked again. The door rattled on its hinges.

I was rooted to the spot, breathing rapidly as I blinked through the peephole. The closest wax model woman twitched, painted smile widening like it could sense my presence.

I backed away with my heart in my throat, fisting my hands at my sides.

Another knock sounded around the cabin and I tripped on a loose floorboard, gripping the edge of a banged-up chair to keep my balance. It was followed by another knock, and then another, and then the cabin fell silent.

I froze, a deer caught in headlights, before the door was kicked off its hinges with a splintering crash.

The minions poured inside in a disturbingly calm, orderly fashion, their footsteps synchronized like marionettes on strings. I backed up, my mind racing. No, no, no.This can’t be happening. They can’t be here.

“Hello. Hello. How are you?” one of them called out, sing-song voice ringing too cheerfully for the nightmarish situation. There was a hollow echo to it, each syllable hitting an odd, off-beat note, like it was mimicking human intonation without any real grasp of the meaning behind the words.

I backed down the hallway and the boat rocked as more of them marched in. There were eight. Nine. Ten of them. And more hovering on the jetty. The overhead light swung wildly on its cord, reflecting a faint sheen on their too-perfect skin, glancing off the pearly whites of their teeth.

“Hello. How are you?” more of them piped up and I caught snatches of that hollow mimicry in their voices. “He-ll-oh,” one of them crooned, syllables stretched and clipped, like a playback on a warped cassette.

“Stay back!” I shouted, fumbling for a weapon and eventually brandishing one of Leah’s fishing rods over my head. My voicecracked, and one of them let out a parroted laugh—ha-ha-ha—the cadence all wrong.

The closest wax model lunged, reaching out with stiff fingers that clicked at the joints. I reacted instinctively, winging out the rod in a wide arc, and it whipped against the figure’s pristine suit jacket. The impact did next to nothing, a light tickle, and the creature’s lips curled in an imitation of polite surprise.

I ditched the rod, and they came at me in a flurry of fancy hats and coats, a coordinated press from all sides. My back slammed against the boat’s wooden paneling and I snarled, letting my coiled strength surge through my limbs.

I kicked out, catching one in the chest, feeling a softgiveas if I’d struck something pliable. Another lunged for my arm, forcing me to twist and duck, narrowly avoiding their grasping fingers. There was too little room to maneuver around them. There was nowhere to run.

I lashed out, catching a second minion by the neck and slamming it into the wall. Its body yielded strangely, that uncanny waxy texture warping under my grip – but my advantage was fleeting. Another set of hands wove into my hair, yanking me backward hard enough that my teeth rattled in my skull.

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