Page 116 of Stutter

“Amourette,” Damon sighs, “nothing is going to happen to you. We’ve taken precautions,” he does a nod toward Kronos who’s lazily laying on the ground licking his paw. Lucifer is, of course, nowhere to be found. “And hopefully we’re out of the state by the time they even try.”

If she has any inclination we’re trying to purchase a new house where we can all live in New York, she doesn’t make any nods toward it. “If it does-“

“It won’t.” He’s so sure I almost believe him myself, but the way Jonas is so adamant about his feelings, I’m more proneto lean his way. I mean, he was right about someone staking us out.

We finish eating rather quickly after that and head into the living room where Raven sits between my legs on her pillow I dragged out from under my desk while I read, Kronos on the side of her, his head in her lap and Damon and Jonas sit watching the college sports channel watching the highlighted reels of his game.

Kronos sits up and barks.

“Shhh, Kaykay.” Raven soothes him but the dog is up and barking again, alerting me now, I snap my book shut.

That damn dog is so well trained he doesn’t even bark at a squirrel. Something’s going on.

Feeling the tension rise, Jonas switches off the television, going to the window and peering outside. He shakes his head at me as Kronos begins to growl, going to the back window of the kitchen and my stomach swoops.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh

I stand quickly, going around Raven, and straight to the end table, grabbing my gun from where it’s strapped beneath. “Go to the corner, angel.”

“You have a gun?” Jonas whisper-screams.

I put a finger to my lips, to hush them and take off the safety. “Stay here.” I whisper into the living room, and they crowd into one corner. “Don’t move from that spot until I come back. Damon, be prepared to call 9-1-1.”

He nods, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

I keep my eyes on Kronos, whose head tilts from one side and then looks up, growling. He looks between Raven and up to the second floor of my house. “Go with her.” I tell him, and he answers with a huff, standing at the foot of the stairs, ignoring me. His growls low, haunches on end, ears standing, one wriggling to hear more, and when he bends as if about to begin running, I hear it - the soft ‘click’ of a lock on one of the upstairs windows.

Someone’s breaking in.

Leaning toward the wall where none of the stairs will creak, I take them up, one at a time, until I reach the last one.

It’s silent. Like a tomb. Nothing but the howling wind outside and Kronos’ low growls, and my labored breath to accompany me.

Whoosh whoosh

I keep my gun up and ready, my finger on the trigger, checking every available room. No lights are on up here and just when I begin to think it was a figment of my imagination, that Kronos was in fact, barking at a ghost, I hear a footstep to my left.

Standing at the threshold to my bedroom, I crane my neck, a shadow in my peripheral, and they lunge, full weight on me, we topple over, Kronos downstairs barking. They grunt, breathing heavily, grabbing at the gun in my hand, trying to overpower me, but as soon as they even try to turn it toward me, I fire.

Three.

Deadly.

Shots.

Whoosh whoosh

They slump over me, and I force their weight off. Wet, and sticky with blood I stand, swallowing down the urge to vomit. I stumble to the switch in the hallway and call down to Damon to tell him that we’re going to need an ambulance but not to come up here.

I stare down at Detective Arlo Martinez’s corpse bleeding out on my hardwood floors and I slump against the wall, staring at his wide, dilated, unfocused, unblinking muddy dark eyes.

Not caramel, not light honey, not amber or cinnamon or even whiskey colored like my angel’s.

The kind of dark you can barely tell is brown.

I nudge his shoulder with my foot, to make sure he’s fucking dead and only then, do I put the safety back on, and drop my gun to my side, the metal still hot from the gunfire.

Whoosh whoosh

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