Free Third Strike by Heather Brewer Page B

within. The Slayer Society was going to love this plan.

7
    CECILE’S EYES
    I t was a noise that woke him that night, though in his half-conscious state, it was difficult for Joss to remember exactly what that noise had been. Curiosity, more than alarm, kept him wondering, kept him guessing, and finally, Joss opened his eyes. His bedroom was empty, as far as he could see in the darkness. No stray animals, no unexpected guests. Just him, his stuff, and the cool breeze blowing his curtains farther into the room.
    He relaxed back into his mattress and had just sighed a sleepy, relieved sigh when he heard the noise again. It sounded like the creaking of floorboards. Joss tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just the house settling.
    Then he heard it again.
Creeeeak . . .
    Wide awake at the sound, Joss listened to his heart hammer in his ears. He was ashamed of himself instantly. What kind of Slayer hides under his covers at the first discovery of some unexplainable noise? It was ridiculous. Slowly, he pushed the sheet back from his legs and sat up on the edge of his bed, looking around.
    Nothing. Just his room. Just his stuff. Just the breeze.
    Feeling more than a little stupid, Joss cursed himself for being so needlessly on edge. He was just about to slip back under his covers when he heard it again.
Creeeeak . . .
    Joss’s heart immediately picked up its pace. It was coming from down the hall. More specifically than that, it sounded like it was coming from Henry’s room.
    With his stake gripped firmly in his hand, Joss opened his bedroom door and crept down the hall. As he pushed Henry’s partially open door open even more, he thought about the night that he had lost Cecile. He remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d been awoken by a sound in the middle of the night. He’d crept down the hall to his baby sister’s room, and when he peered inside her open door, he saw a vampire looming over her sleeping form.
    Only she wasn’t sleeping. Cecile was dead.
    He pushed the door open and what he saw sent his heart into his throat. Someone was standing beside Henry’s bed, looking down on him. At first, Joss couldn’t focus on who or what it was that was standing there. He could only stare at his cousin and wait for any sign that Henry was still alive.
    When Henry’s chest rose in a deep breath, Joss sighed in relief. But there was still the other matter. An invader was standing in his home, just inches from his unguarded cousin. Joss readied his weapon and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.
    Only then did he recognize who was standing in the dark of Henry’s room. Her blond, curly hair was unmistakable, and Joss knew that if she looked at him, it would be with black, tunnel eyes. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. It was Cecile. And he only ever saw Cecile in his dreams.
    Recalling his former nightmares, Joss was hesitant to ask her what she was doing here. He didn’t want an answer, didn’t want to know. Because sooner or later, this dream Cecile would try to kill him, and Joss just couldn’t bear it anymore. So instead he stood there in the darkness, watching the way the breeze brushed her hair back from her face. He wished that she’d look at him then, and when she did that he’d see her pretty blue eyes. But those were gone. Only filthy, black tunnels remained in their stead—he knew that much. Only this nightmarish version of Cecile remained, because his Cecile, his cherub of a sister, was gone. Forever gone. And it was all Joss’s fault.
    Refusing to speak, to engage her in any way, Joss just stood there silently and looked at her, waiting for something horrible to happen. But when she turned her head toward him, something was very different from his other nightmares about Cecile. Her fingers weren’t filthy claws. Her hair wasn’t half covering her face. And her eyes . . .
    Even in the dark of