Blood Born by Linda Howard Page B

she’d thought there was even a chance that that was the case she would’ve spent last night at the ER. She tried hard not to let the aneurysm affect every aspect of her life, not to tie everything that went wrong in her life to it; if she did that, then whether she lived a long life or died tomorrow, the stupid little thing won. Sometimes, though, blaming stuff on it was better than not, because then she’d at least have a reason; too bad it wouldn’t work in this case.
    None of the possibilities she was left with were good: she was down to brain tumor or mental illness.
    The doors were locked, the restaurant quiet and in order. Carlos was waiting. Chloe sighed and got her purse, and together they went out the employee entrance. She set the security system, then locked the door behind them.
    “You okay?” Carlos asked as they walked down the brick pathway behind the row of shops and restaurants. The lighting was adequate, and no one had ever had any trouble in this neighborhood, but she had to admit she’d always been grateful for hisprotective company. “You’ve been a little quiet tonight. Busy, but quiet.”
    “I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping much for the past several nights.” Understatement of the year.
    “Something wrong?”
    “Nothing I can put my finger on. Just odd dreams that wake me up, then I can’t go back to sleep.” She wasn’t inclined to share the details, to tell him about that stupid braid or the voice or the possibility that she might be cracking up. Some things weren’t for sharing.
    “Maybe you’ll catch up on sleep tonight.”
    “I hope. I’m going to try drinking milk
before
I go to bed instead of waiting until after one of those stupid dreams wakes me up.” That wasn’t much of a game plan, but it was the best she had. She didn’t want to start taking sleeping pills, though she didn’t rule them out as a last resort. She just hadn’t reached that point. But she couldn’t swear that tomorrow wouldn’t have her there.
    The Metro station was convenient to work, and on the other end she had a brisk, ten-minute walk ahead of her. Carlos took the Metro home, too, though he got off at a different station and then got on a different line for the next leg of his trip home. Because it was a weekend, there were enough people on the train that she felt safe and comfortable; several of them even got off at the same station she did, and they all took the long escalators up to the street.
    It was a nice, quiet night. The nearby businesses were closed and most of the people in the residential neighborhood she soon turned in to were long asleep. A sliver of moon was setting, just peeking through the heavy summer foliage. Even though the neighborhood was calm and respectable, Chloe followed her mother’s orders and gripped her pepper spray in one hand andher keys in the other. She’d never had to use the spray and so far the keys hadn’t been needed for anything other than unlocking the door, but she was enough of her mother’s daughter to have them out anyway; if by some awful chance she needed the pepper spray and didn’t have it in hand, she’d feel like the biggest moron on the planet, assuming she was still alive to feel anything. She wasn’t afraid, but she was prepared.
    Chloe liked her nighttime hours, liked that her timetable was slightly off from the majority of the people around her. She enjoyed sleeping late, when she could sleep, and she liked the silence of the night. She liked the sensation that she was completely alone as she walked the deserted streets, and she even liked the sound of her steps on the sidewalk, shadowed by the ancient trees in full leaf. The air on a warm summer night had that special, summery smell, of flowers and mown grass, and warmth that had been soaked up by the concrete beneath her feet. There was something peaceful about it all.
    As she passed by one house, which was small and neat, much like her own, she saw the flickering of a