Open the door...
The command washed across the silence, threatening yet enticing. The urge to do as he asked stormed through her. Clenching her fist, she rose and backed away. Flinch was just beyond the front door. She could feel his heat, the sense of depravity that was his essence.
Hope flared slightly. If she could feel that, then her psychic senses weren't as dead as she feared. Her head might pound every time she moved, yet maybe, if she pushed hard enough, she might be able to defend herself.
Do not ignore me. Open the door.
No. Never.She reached down and slid one of the silver knives from her boot. Power swept around her, black wings that beat against her resistance. Where was Ethan? Why wasn't he here to stop Flinch?
I have arranged a diversion for your lover. He will not arrive in time to help you.
