Free Night Terrors: Savage Species, Book 1 by Jonathan Janz

Charly. “You want Mr. Bledsoe to leave?”
    “No,” she said.
    Eric made a scoffing sound. “Big surprise.”
    “Secondly, just because someone is on your land, that doesn’t give you the right to assault him. Which means I just witnessed an unprovoked attack. Do you want to press charges, Mr. Bledsoe?”
    Sam palmed blood off his lip. Then, glancing at Charly, he said, “No, I don’t.”
    “You gotta be kidding,” Eric said. “Press charges? This asshole does a shitty job on our house—”
    “I also suspect,” Robertson said, his voice rising over Eric’s, “that Mr. Bledsoe here could whip your skinny behind if he so desired. That he hasn’t done so yet shows me how sensitive he is to your situation.” Robertson stood over Eric. “Now you can either control your mouth, or I can take you in for striking this man.”
    Eric stared hatefully up at Robertson.
    “Good,” the sheriff said. “Now, let’s forget this happened and focus on getting your boy back.”
    He offered Eric a hand, but rather than accepting the help, Eric pushed to his feet and made for the house.
    Robertson stared after Eric sourly before saying to Sam, “You sure you’re okay?”
    “I’m fine,” Sam said and bent to retrieve his toolbox.
    Robertson looked at Charly, and she realized how the confrontation had taxed him. His short black hair was matted with sweat, and he was still breathing heavily. If he doesn’t get in shape soon , Charly thought, he’ll have a heart attack by his sixtieth birthday .
    “I better check in,” Robertson said. He nodded at Charly. “If you think of anything I can do to help, please call me.”
    She said she would. Robertson ambled to his cruiser, and she was left with Sam.
    “I’m sorry Eric hit you,” she said.
    “I didn’t come here to fix your back door.”
    Charly returned his stare for a long moment. Then she said, “Eric was out with his assistant coach last night.”
    “I assume this assistant isn’t a man.”
    “She’s very pretty.”
    “Can’t be as pretty as you.”
    Charly felt a little sick to her stomach. She fought an insane urge to throw her arms around Sam and squeeze. Sex could come later, she thought—a lot of sex—but right now she needed comfort. Sheriff Robertson had gone a long way toward helping her feel as if she weren’t completely alone, but Sam filled that need in a much more fundamental way.
    Charly exhaled pent-up air. “So why did you come?”
    “Can you walk with me a little?”
    She frowned, glanced back at the house. “It’s sweet of you, really. But I need to stay here. Maybe I’ll go pick up my girls and bring them back—”
    “I’m not asking you on a date.”
    She tried not to look hurt.
    “I want to find your baby,” he said.
    “It’s sweet of you, but I don’t think—”
    “I spent some time today walking around the woods. The description of your kidnapper gave me the idea.”
    “And?”
    He hesitated.
    “Wait a minute,” she said. “How did you know what the kidnapper looked like?”
    Sam gave her an apologetic look. “I’ve known Larry Robertson for years. He shared a couple details…”
    She steeled herself for more condescension. “So you think I’m crazy too.”
    “Not a bit,” he said. “Your story’s the only one that makes sense.”
    She watched him closely to see if he was putting her on.
    “Think about it,” he said. “They didn’t find any sign of forced entry. The dogs couldn’t pick up the scent outside. They’re focusing all their attention on the tire tracks—”
    “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “A creature like that doesn’t exist.”
    “You said it sprang out of your window.”
    “So?”
    “You didn’t say ‘jumped,’ you said ‘sprang’.”
    “What’s—”
    “When you ran to the window, you didn’t see the creature below, right?”
    Try as she might, she couldn’t fight off the flood of images:
    The monster’s horrid grin as it cradled her baby.
    The long,