Free Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) by J. A. Pitts Page A

long night. Think I’ll get out my shotgun.”
    “I’ll call you when I know something for sure.”
    “No matter how late,” she said.
    I cut over onto the break-down lane and drove around the line of cars merging with I-90. This was too much bullshit. There was another call I had to make and I hated to do it. But if this was as fucking strange as it sounded, I needed some expert advice.
    The phone only rang once when Qindra answered.
    “What have you done now?” she asked. “Nidhogg is freaking out. I need to deal with this. I’ll call you when I can.”
    “It wasn’t me,” I said, hating the defensiveness in my voice. Usually it was me, or actions related to me. Not like I went looking for trouble.
    There were angry voices in the background and someone screamed.
    Qindra’s voice rose, shouting something I couldn’t really understand. Not sure what language it was, but it had a lot of consonants.
    Then the phone went dead.

Eleven
    Katie was stable when I got to Valley Medical Center but they had her in ICU with stage four Hypovolemia. Fancy talk for shock and coma from sudden blood loss, which they estimated was just over three pints. They had her on an intravenous drip trying to get her blood pressure to stabilize, but adding too much fluid too fast could damage the brain, or so the doc said. Something about permissive hypotension.
    I’d have Melanie explain it all to me in English later. Right now, I was freaked that Katie hadn’t regained consciousness. That really worried the doctors. The blood loss and associated symptoms were manageable. Shock was the current worry, as well as figuring out just what the hell had happened.
    Fortunately, there was no signs she’d been assaulted. There was a question as to why she had been found in the bathroom. The seat was down and she’d been completely dressed—no collapsing mid-pee or anything.
    I wish either Melanie or Qindra would call me back. I needed answers.
    Jimmy paced while Deidre rolled her chair back and forth, talking to fill the quiet. I sat on vinyl cushions combating a serious case of déjà vu.
    Something didn’t add up. Around midnight I called Julie to fill her in.
    “Jai Li has been bouncing off the walls,” Julie said when I called. “She’s drawn a dragon now, and a blonde guy with a funky stringed instrument. We looked it up, it’s a double necked lute called a chitarrone. Somehow that lute and the dragon are connected and they’re tied in with JJ and Katie.”
    Wait, I knew a guy who played a chitarrone—Cassidy Aloysius Stone of the Harpers. We’d met the Harpers back in October when all that mess with the mead came up.
    That was interesting. Was that a connection? What else had happened then? Maybe I needed to contact Frederick Sawyer and see what he knew about things. He’d gotten a sample of that mead. Nidhogg’s had been destroyed or so Qindra figured, when the house in Chumstick burned down at Christmas. The final two had gone to Memphis and Dublin, so I doubted they were connected. On the other hand, we really didn’t know anything about Mr. Stone, nor the rest of his band. Seemed like nice enough folks. Who knew what secrets they were harboring. I’d be calling him next. Katie had his number at home somewhere. I’d have to dig it out.
    I rubbed my eyes. Not enough pieces to the puzzle. Besides, what did that have to do with either Katie or JJ?
    “Tell Jai Li we love her and will come get her as soon as we can,” I said, finally. I was too damned tired to think.
    “She asked about Nidhogg,” Julie whispered. “Said the dragon was angry about something.” There was a long pause. “Sarah, how does she know Nidhogg’s angry?”
    My stomach was in knots. All I’d had to eat in the last twelve hours had been coffee. I needed something on my stomach or I was gonna hurl.
    “I called Qindra,” I said, turning away from the waiting room. Didn’t want Jimmy getting his panties in a wad. “Nidhogg was going a little