Free Cronin's Key by N.R. Walker Page A

been underneath it and it probably should’ve killed me, but I was pulled out before it flattened me. Dad came running back in and I was a good few feet from the bookcase. He swore I must’ve just fell farther than I thought, but I remember being pulled out of the way.”
    Cronin pursed his lips and his nostrils flared.
    “Then there was the time I was supposed to be having a sleepover at Bobby Monroe’s house, but we fought over some game or something stupid and I walked home. It wasn’t too far, just a block or two, but it was nine o’clock at night and I was about eight years old.”
    Cronin’s voice was quiet and methodical. “You walked the streets of New York City alone at night when you were eight?”
    “Uh, yeah,” Alec admitted. He cringed. “Just that once. Anyway, there was a man who asked me if I wanted him to take me home, but my dad had told me a hundred times not to talk to strangers so I took off. Well, he chased me, so I took a shortcut through the alley, but he caught me. He grabbed my jacket and I turned around just in time to see him get lifted off me in a blur. I heard him screaming, and man, I ran. I ran all the way home.” Alec shook his head. “I scared the crap outta my dad. And holy hell did I get my ass kicked for that.”
    Cronin took a slow, deep breath. “I get the feeling there are a lot of these kinds of stories?”
    “Yep. I almost drowned once, but got pulled out of the local indoor pool. My dad saw that one. He ran after the guy who pulled me out, but it was raining and he was gone. Like he literally disappeared.”
    Cronin nodded. “And?”
    “Dad started to believe me then. There were a few times throughout high school. Some seniors tried to lock me in the storage lockers under the bleachers in my junior year, and the three of them ended leaving the school citing some crap about ghosts or some shit. I heard one of them was in therapy for years,” Alec said with a slow nod as he realized something. “It was all Eiji, wasn’t it? Every time?”
    “I’m starting to think so,” Cronin said. “Believe me, I’ll be asking him.” He tilted his head. “There was an incident with a bullet?”
    “Oh, there sure was.” Alec smiled. “It was the weirdest one of all. It was just two years ago, routine bust, just at sunset. The perp swung his pistol and it discharged. It was five feet from me, aimed right at my head, but the bullet kind of blurred and changed trajectory in midair, like it bent or something. It went from head-height straight down and got me in the leg instead.” Alec touched the indent on his thigh. He could feel the divot through his jeans. “It went straight through. I had muscle damage and spent five months doing physical therapy, but I heal fast apparently. It’s as good as new now. Well, it was better than being shot in the head.”
    Alec could have sworn that Cronin growled.
    “Six other cops saw that bullet change direction. They all reported it but it just got written off as some freak anomaly.” Alec studied Cronin for a moment. “How did Eiji do that?”
    “From what you describe, I’d say he deflected the bullet,” Cronin answered. “If his speed was that of the bullet or faster, simply brushing it would have made it appear to bend.”
    “Faster than a bullet?”
    Cronin nodded. “Vampires can move very fast, beyond what the human eye can detect.”
    “Or what the human brain will process,” Alec added. “What humans actually see and what they convince themselves they see are not always the same thing.”
    “Very true.” Cronin looked at Alec’s leg. “Does your leg hurt?”
    Alec saw the set of Cronin’s jaw and the way he failed to disguise his anger. “Why do I get the feeling that whatever pain level I admit to will be directly proportional to how much you yell at Eiji?”
    Cronin laughed. “Because you almost being shot in the head is directly proportional to how much he deserves to be yelled at.”
    “Oh, leave him