Midnight In St. Pertsburg (The Invisible War 1) by Barbara J. Webb Page A

harder than that, darker than that, there’s death. More than just the murder last night.  
    “What’s worse is the sense St. Isaac’s wants the murders to happen. Like it’s calling out for people to do that. I’m not surprised some serial killer has decided it’s a great place to do his business. What’s amazing is that people aren’t being killed here everyday.”
    A look of cold rage flashed across Mike’s face. “How is it you know all this?”
    “I’m a sensitive!” Rose yelled back, frustrated past the point of rational discussion. “What do you expect?”
    Mike shook his head. “I’ve worked with sensitives. Hunches and visions and dreams and none of it ever solid enough to be useful.”
    “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” He frowned and looked away and Rose’s frustration sparked into anger. “Are you that convinced I’m useless? What the Hell is wrong with you?”
    “In all my experience, sensitives are civilians. Worse than civilians because you’re fragile and prone to hysterics.” Like now, he didn’t say, but Rose could read it in his eyes. “If you’re different, it’s your job to tell me.”  
    Rose wasn’t about to let herself be intimidated. “You people are the ones with all your secrets. How am I supposed to know what you know and what you don’t know?”
    “Listen to me!” Mike grabbed her by the shoulders. “Do you understand how serious this is? Those people who attacked you two nights ago? They were going to kill you. You would be dead right now if not for Nazeem. Everyone we’ve met so far has either threatened us or warned us, and now I find out you’ve been withholding information. Information we need to know!”
    He pushed her away. Rose would have fallen if Nazeem hadn’t caught her arm to steady her. “You asshole!” she screamed. She’d never been so angry in all her life.  
    “Guys—“
    Rose ignored Ian’s soft attempt to interrupt. Overcome with fury, she couldn’t have stopped yelling if she’d wanted to. “You think you get to tell me what to do? Just because you’re older, or—“
    “Damn right I get to—“
    “—More expert or—“
    “If you can’t behave—“
    Ian was now turning in a circle, his eyes wide, his insides jangling warning, but Rose was too buried in anger to care. Pure, burning rage flared inside her and she couldn’t have stopped yelling if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. “All you priests, you’re all the same! Condescending fuckers so drunk on your own power—“
    Nazeem stepped in front of Rose and caught her eyes, and Rose’s brain locked tight around her voice. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t struggle, couldn’t breath. At the same time, Ian grabbed Mike, shook him the way Mike had shaken Rose. “Shut up!” he ordered.
    Silence descended, but Rose could still see the murderous rage twisting Mike’s features. Rose remained frozen, unable to form the requisite will to move or make a sound—until Nazeem looked away and she could breathe again. Rose stood shaking, fighting the white-hot anger that tore at any rational thought. Ian stood between her and Mike, but Ian was no obstacle. Rose could get through him. If only—
    A ringing feminine laugh echoed across the cathedral ceiling, driving all thought from Rose’s mind.
    *     *     *
    All the horror Rose had imagined, nothing compared to the truth.
    Shadows thickened into a fog; Mike’s light disappeared. Rose couldn’t see her teammates, couldn’t hear them, and what was worse—she couldn’t feel Ian’s burning radiance or Nazeem’s dissonance. They were gone.
    Something was here. A lot of somethings. Skittering noises in the dark, chitinous chattering. Something pressed against her foot, then a cool, wet tentacle brushed her face.  
    Rose screamed. And ran. Scraping footsteps behind her. Something caught at her coat. Pulled at her hair.
    A light ahead, one of the small side chapels. A beautiful woman stood in the