Free Kissing Midnight by Laura Bradley Rede Page A

neighborhood looked abandoned. Could anyone even hear me if I scream?
    I can’t think about it. I have to keep moving.
    Something else is moving, too. I can hear footsteps on the concrete floor, catch glimpses of motion between the piles—a darker patch of darkness slipping stealthily between the boxes.
    But I can also see a slice of gray—what I hope is the outline of the door. That’s the good news.
    The bad news is the shadow is headed that way. It’s on the other side of the pile from me now. I can hear it. If I don’t do something to stop it, it will reach the door before I do and there will be no way out. I have to do something.
    Gathering all my strength, I ram my shoulder into the pile of boxes beside me, feeling the impact jolt down my spine. The pile shudders. The uppermost boxes topple, dragging the rest down with them, and there’s a massive crash as they hit the ground. Glass shatters and something cries out—a deep, animal noise of pain. I see the figure in the dark leap back. The barrier is down between us now and whoever it is stands opposite me. A slice of dim light cuts across the room, and for a moment I can make out someone…
    Or some thing. It’s tall enough to be human, but the face…The nose is too long, the teeth too sharp. The eyes shine in the light like an animal’s.
    The light! Someone must have opened the door!
    I bolt. The thing leaps the boxes and it’s on my heels. I stumble over boxes, broken glass crunching under my feet, but I’m almost to the door.
    Something snags my foot, and I go down hard. I scream as the glass bites into my palms and brace myself for worse.
    Something grabs me from behind, pulling me to my feet. I struggle, kicking and thrashing against its grip. Wrenching my arm free, I drive the dagger as hard as I can into what I hope is the creature’s chest.
    “Saintly! Stop! It’s me!”
    The lights flicker back on and the warehouse is shot through with a sudden greenish glow. I look up to see what holds me.
    “Dev!” His strong arms are pinned around me, his copper hair mussed, a look of complete shock in his bright blue eyes. And on his chest…
    “Oh my God!” I drop the dagger and my hand flies to my mouth. A deep red stain is spreading across his white shirt. “I hurt you!”
    He looks down at his blood-soaked shirt, his expression blank. He must be in shock.
    “We have to get you to a doctor.” My voice comes out high-pitched with panic. I spin around to face the now-light warehouse. The floor is littered with boxes. A smashed lamp lies in jagged pieces in the middle of the path. “But where’s the beast?”
    “The beast?” Dev echoes. Then he starts to laugh.
    I turn and stare at him. “You must be delirious. You’re badly hurt. Here, give me your phone.”
    “Saint, I’m not hurt.” His expression is equal parts amusement and concern. He picks up the knife from the floor. “Look.”
    Before I can stop him, he drives the knife deep into his own palm. I scream.
    But, although the knife sinks in to the hilt, the blade doesn’t come out the other side. There’s a little spurt of blood, but not nearly enough.
    Relief floods me. “It’s fake.”
    Dev holds up his hand, perfectly uninjured. “Collapsible. A prop.”
    Of course. “Then the blood is fake.” I feel giddy with relief.
    “My blood is, but yours isn’t.” His blue eyes narrow with concern. “Your hands, your cheek…” He brushes my cheek gently with his finger, and I wince away from his touch. “What happened?”
    My words tumble out in a rush. “The music came on the juke box by itself and someone turned off the lights and I could hear someone—something—moving. It was breathing like—” I try to imitate the panting breaths, but my breathing is still too rapid. “I saw it! It had eyes like an animal!”
    Dev’s expression darkens with worry, but I can’t tell if he’s worried about the beast or worried I’ve lost my mind. “Deep breaths, Saintly. It’s going