Free Downside Rain: Downside book one by Linda Welch

Shadows slither up the street. House lights blink out.
    I
hope Castle still lets me do my laundry after I tell him about Verity, not a
prospect I look forward to. On second thought, I’ll get my things in the
machine before I say anything. I’ll have to make another trip with my
linens, if I can talk him into letting me use his machines again after tonight.
    The
porch light is off and also the hall light or it would glimmer through the
glass window in Castle’s front door. But light glows faintly from deeper in the
house. No sound from inside. He must be in the kitchen. I tap the door three
times with my knuckles. “Castle, you in there?”
    “He
should be,” a voice says, startling me. “He got home about an hour ago. Haven’t
seen him leave and his car’s still out back.”
    Castle’s
neighbor, Jessy, the self-appointed neighborhood watch.
    “Oh,
okay, fine. Thanks.” I give the nosy old guy a smile and nod as he walks on
down the street.
    I
use my fist on the door this time. “Castle! Open up!”
    Maybe
he’s in the shower. I sit on the step for what feels like five minutes.
    Bother
him. I refuse to wait outside all night and will definitely not tote this
duffel bag back home. I have a key. I root in my pocket among a handful of coins
and a scrap of paper.
    After
unlocking the door, I heave the duffel over the step, dump it in the hall and push
the door to with my hip.
    “Castle?
Guess who’s here with her laundry?” I sing.
    Grabbing
the duffel’s handle, I lug it along the floor to the living room. Light shines
through from the kitchen. A noise back there, it must be Castle. I open my mouth
on a grin to tell him he’s grown deaf in his old age.
    Castle
lies in the middle of the living room floor in the fetal position, head and
shoulders in a pool of his own blood.
    I
recoil and hit the door frame. The duffle falls from numb fingers. I can’t
breathe, yet a moan escapes my lips. No. No no no. He sees me and horrible
noises gurgle from his throat. His hands scrabble on the bloody carpet.
    Palms
over my mouth, I creep in the room and collapse to my knees. I reach for the
stiletto in his neck. If I can get it out, he can lose flesh and come back
good as new. But he feebly bats at my hand and I know his blood will
fountain if I pull the blade. He will be gone in seconds.
    I
know, and he knows, he will die in moments anyway. I’m too late, he has lost
too much blood, he doesn’t have the strength to manipulate flesh. I can’t do
anything. My friend is dying and I can’t save him.
    I
grasp his hand. My mouth tries, but fails to make words. His eyes are wide but placid,
as if acceptance has replaced fear and desperation.
    Castles
smiles as my tears drip on our joined hands, then his hand is lax. His other
hand flops on the floor. His eyes are open, staring right at me, but glassy. He’s
not here anymore.
    My
thoughts are confused. It’s not real, it can’t be. I frown at him, a Castle
island in the middle of a red sea. I don’t believe he’s gone. Get up,
Castle, you ass. You’ve got blood all over you. His skin looks stiff, taut,
plastic.
    An
ache wells in the pit of my stomach. I couch over my knees and keen.
     
    I
sit in Castle’s blood with his head on my knees. Blood streaks my face where I
swiped at tears, in my hair from when I pushed it off my face, on my legs and
knees.
    Alain
is a shadow in the doorway seen through blurred vision. I called him less than
five minutes ago, yet it seems like hours.
    “Rain.”
His voice echoes as if we stand in a cavern. “A communication from my man in
the constabulary arrived seconds after you called me; the police received an
anonymous tip, they’ll be here soon. We must get you out.”
    Tears
still prick behind my eyelids. “What?”
    “Someone
tipped off the police. They are on their way to investigate. Time to go, Rain.”
    I
gulp and shake my head. “Jessy. Castle’s neighbor Jessy saw me come in.” I ease
Castle’s head to the floor, hating