Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3) Read Free Page A

certain … ambiance.”
    “Yeah, I can see why you’d come here.”  Someone’s loud scream knifed through me.  I jumped.  “Holy crap!”
    The demon smiled.  “Ah, right on time.”
    Across the room, through a wide arch, shadows stirred in what had been an empty kitchen.  A woman appeared, hands clasped to her chest, stumbling backwards into the living room.  Thin, with long dark hair, she wore shorts and a halter top that didn’t fit the current winter season.  This told me we were both on the same side of the veil.
    I looked beyond her to see what she was scared of.  At first, nothing was there.  Then the gloom coalesced into a man wearing dirty jeans and a wife-beater tee.  His face wore grim determination, the look of a fanatic in his eyes.  A butcher’s knife gleamed in his hand, though I couldn’t tell where the reflected light came from.
    He raised the knife, lurching closer.
    The woman screamed again, throwing herself blindly backwards.
    I lunged to intercept the man.  Shadow burst around me, hardening into Wocky.  He held me, refusing to let me intervene or cross back to the land of the living.
    I struggled in his grip.  “Let me go.  He’s going to kill her.”
    “Yes.  He is.”
    The man fell on the woman.  Her last scream ended in a sharp yelp as the blade sank into her abdomen.  She flailed weakly as the blade plunged in again … and again … and again, piercing lungs and heart.  Her struggle stopped.  Her face went slack as she collapsed in on herself, her chest and stomach damp with blood that looked black as well -used motor oil.  A growing pool gathered under her body.
    Tears ran down my face that weren’t only from Wocky’s atrocious smell.  My voice roughened with rage, “Damn it, I could have saved her.  I could have—”
    “Done nothing,” Wocky said.  “Watch.”
    I didn’t quite relax, but I stopped fighting his hold.
    The man stood, flung the knife away, and staggered over to the stairs.  Clothes splattered with blood were contrasted by a strange serenity that ironed the emotions from his face.  Zombie-like, he plodded up the stairs.  His shuffling steps echoed in an upper hallway.
    I looked into Wocky’s shadow-blurred face.  “What’s he—”
    The demon’s face betrayed nothing.  He murmured, “Wait for it.  Wait for it…”
    I jumped at the crack of a single gunshot upstairs.  A body fell.  Silence followed, the kind you get when nothing’s left alive.  I blinked.  “Murder-suicide?”
    Wocky moved off, pointing at the woman’s body.  It had gone a monochromatic, icy blue, the edges softening.  She became mist, losing cohesion.  In moments, no trace remained that she’d ever been there.
    “Ghosts?”  I was confused.  They hadn’t possessed visible auras like other ghosts of my acquaintance.
    “Bad copies,” Wocky said.  “ Remnants .  They’re not complete.  This happens sometimes with violent deaths.  Their residual energy relives the event in an eternal loop.”
    “And watching this kind of thing is your idea of fun?”  Shouting at him was pretty stupid.  Part of me knew that.  Most of me, though, was too worked up to care. 
    “Why, certainly.”  A close-lipped smile stretched his face.  He cocked his head, staring at me as if I, too, were part of the program.  “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
    I had to look away from the awful emptiness of his gaze.  “No.  Take me home.”
    “But we’ll miss the second show.”
    “If you think I’m going to wait here and—”
    A shrill, terror-filled scream rang out from the kitchen.  Shadows stirred.  The woman reappeared, backing into the living room.
    I shuddered, turning my back on her, covering my face with my hands.  “Please,” I begged, “make it stop.”
    His claws scooped me up.  I fell against his hard torso.  So close, I had to hold my breath.  The room spun and blurred and we were outside, in the weedy yard.  I’d known the demon was