BooksBarbecue
Back Point Last Seen
Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Booklist
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Somehow, she still clutched her weapon. Some instinct had warned her to hold it tightly, and she would not relinquish it now. She held it up to the light; the metal shone like stainless steel. She saw the length of it—it was as long as she was tall—the end curved like a cane back toward her, terminating in a barbed hook.

Thank God she had retained her weapon, because silhouetted against the careening light, a dark, menacing form moved toward her.

She tasted salt and terror.

Him. He stood between her and the house where there was help, light, life.

He was returning to finish the job.

His rage gave him an implacability she had never imagined from any man and certainly never from him. She never imagined he would turn on her. Never.

He had been a paternal figure, her mentor, her friend.

She held the rod so tightly her fingers ached. But she held it in the middle, not by the handle, and she needed every inch of length she could bring to bear. Clumsy with cold and terror, she walked her hands up the slippery metal to the vinyl grip.

Quick. Quick!

He loomed over her and...

She swung. She hooked him behind the back and yanked, burying the barb into his flesh.

Even with her impaired senses and through the roar of the wind, she heard him scream. Breathing, gasping, using the railing, she dragged herself to her feet.

Still screaming, he staggered, clawing at the metal rod. He grasped it, braced himself and pulled.

She couldn’t believe it.

Like a giant fish hook, that barb must have torn flesh all the way out, and he just...did it.

He should have been on his knees.

He should have been dying.

He looked at Elladora, huddled against the rail. He looked at the hook, shiny and deadly. He adjusted his grip. He started toward her again, and the whites of his eyes glinted with madness or satisfaction or pleasure.

Now she realized he was a monster, a zombie, impossible to kill.

And he would murder her in the most painful way possible.

Elle finished her story. She looked at Rune, who was frozen in astonishment.

Then at Adam, who wished fervently he had been there to help her. No wonder she suffered from nightmares.

“Before you ask,” she said, “no, I don’t remember what his name was or what his face looked like or where I was.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.” Yet Adam didn’t know if he was telling the truth.