Free The Girl in Blue by Barbara J. Hancock

took her quickly back to where he’d already taken her before that night.
    Her eyes opened with her release and, as Creed followed, the dark night was only a few feet from her face, still frightening, but also a part of the ecstasy they shared.
    * * *
    They had collapsed, afterward, on the cool cushions of the oversize sofa softened by a pile of woven throws. When Trinity woke some time later, it was still dark and she was alone. Her eyes fluttered open and her body jerked as if she’d been falling though she had no memory of it in the pit of her stomach.
    Unease claimed her.
    A thick fog curled against the den’s wall of glass swirling up insidiously from the lake below.
    “Creed?” she called softly, not really expecting a reply.
    The cottage around her felt empty, barren save for her and the sound of her quickening breaths.
    The movement of the fog against the glass made her edge off of the sofa and away from the windows. The move brought her to the counter where Creed’s box still sat unopened. In the soft glow of a phone charger’s light, Trinity didn’t resist the urge to lift the lid. She cringed at the gleam of button eyes, butwhen she reached inside —worse, much worse—was the brittle rattle of loose match sticks against her fingers.
    There were dozens of them in the bottom of the box.
    Was Creed trying to tempt The Girl in Blue? At Hillhaven, had he been distracting her so that the fire could happen?
    A creak interrupted Trinity’s horrified thoughts.
    She turned quickly, but saw nothing…save for a long sliver of night at the edge of the front door where the sliding glass hadn’t been pulled up completely to its latch. Had Creed gone outside and neglected to fully close the door?
    Trinity knelt to pick up the trench coat off the floor without taking her eyes from the door. She shrugged into it and belted it tightly—naked, vulnerable and so not girded at all.
    Maybe he had gone back out on the deck.
    Trinity quietly stepped to the door and opened it before she lost her nerve. The deck was empty. Creed was nowhere in sight. An image constructed itself from long buried memories and it wasn’t one she wished to recall. Creed’s face white and deathly still, his brown eyes blank and staring. What if he had gone down to the lake’s edge alone?
    The memory spurred her out the door.
    But when she stepped onto the deck, she saw more than swirling fog. She saw a flash of pale blue. It disappeared into the trees where the back cobbled path led toward the lake.
    Where was Creed?
    Trinity paused long enough to slip her feet back into the ballet flats she’d worn earlier in the evening and then she followed the flash of blue into the thick predawn fog rising from the surface of High Lake to engulf Scarlet Falls.
    * * *
    Blood.
    As she hurried down the stone path, she finally placed the metallic iron scent of High Lake’s waters. Her stomach clenched and her steps faltered, but then she heard eerie childish laughter floating back to her through the fog and she pressed on.
    The trench coat wasn’t enough. Heavy moist fog damped her skin and wet her hair. Soon she was racked with shivers and awash in gooseflesh. She called his name only once and it sounded too thin and strange to penetrate more than a few inches of the dank atmosphere in front of her lips.
    She could hear the persistent whisper of rushing water gurgling in the distance. The path she was on didn’t lead to the falls that had given the town the second half of its name. She was glad. Choked by rocks and rotten leaves, the falls had always repelled her. It was rumored to be a place for suicide in days gone by. She only knew the one time she’d been there it had held the same dark shadows she avoided in cemeteries.
    She was silent, now, hurrying through briar and bramble until she came to the water’s edge with a sudden gasp. High Lake. Murky black liquid met and soaked her toes before she back peddled from its pungent touch.
    “Creed?” This