The Hollow by Nora Roberts Page A

floor. Its hissing intensified when her back hit the wall. When there was nowhere left to run.
    â€œYou’re not real.” But the doubt in her voice was clear even to her, and it continued to come. “Not real,” she repeated, struggling to draw in her breath. Look at it! she ordered herself. Look at it and see. Know. “You’re not real. Not yet, you bastard.”
    Gritting her teeth, she shoved away from the wall. “Go ahead. Slither, strike, you’re not real .” On the last word she slammed her foot down, stabbing the heel of her boot through the oily black body. For an instant, she felt substance, she saw blood ooze out of the wound and was both horrified and revolted. As she ground down with all of her might, she felt its fury and, more satisfying, its pain.
    â€œYeah, that’s right, that’s right. We hurt you before, and we’ll hurt you again. Go to hell, you—”
    It struck. For an instant, one blinding instant, the pain was her own. It sent her pitching forward. Before she could scramble up to fight, to defend, it was gone.
    Frantic, she yanked up her pants leg, searching for a wound. Her skin was unbroken, unmarred. The pain, she thought as she crawled toward her purse, was an illusion. It made her feel pain, it had that much in it. But not enough to wound. Her hands shook as she fumbled her phone out of her bag.
    In court, she remembered, Fox was in court. Can’t come, can’t help. She hit speed dial for Quinn. “Come,” she managed when Quinn answered. “You have to come. Quick.”
    "WE WERE ON OUR WAY OUT THE DOOR WHEN you called,” Quinn told her. “You didn’t answer the phone, your cell or the office number.”
    â€œIt rang.” Layla sat on the sofa in reception. She’d gotten her breath back, and had nearly stopped shaking. “It rang, but when I picked it up . . .” She took the bottle of water Cybil brought her from the kitchen. “I threw it over there.”
    When she gestured, Cybil walked over to the desk. “It’s still here.” She lifted the phone off its charger.
    â€œBecause I never picked it up,” Layla said slowly. “I never picked anything up. It just made me think I did.”
    â€œBut you felt it.”
    â€œI don’t know. I heard it. I saw it. I thought I felt it.” She looked down at her hand, and couldn’t quite suppress a shudder.
    â€œCal’s here,” Cybil said with a glance out the window.
    â€œWe called him.” Quinn rubbed Layla’s arm. “We figured we might as well bring in the whole cavalry.”
    â€œFox is in court.”
    â€œOkay.” Quinn rose from her crouch in front of Layla when Cal came in.
    â€œIs everyone all right? Nobody’s hurt?”
    â€œNobody’s hurt.” With her eyes on Cal, Quinn laid a hand on Layla’s shoulder. “Just freaked.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œWe were just getting to that. Fox is in court.”
    â€œI tried to reach him, got his voice mail. I didn’t leave a message. I figured if he was out he didn’t need to hear something was wrong when he’d be driving. Gage is on the way.” Cal walked over, running a hand down Quinn’s arm before he sat down beside Layla.
    â€œWhat happened here? What happened to you?”
    â€œI had visitors from both teams.”
    She told them about Ann Hawkins, pausing first when Quinn pulled out her recorder, then again when Gage came in.
    â€œYou said you heard her speak?” Cal asked.
    â€œWe had a conversation right here. Just me and a woman who’s been dead for three hundred years.”
    â€œBut did she actually speak?”
    â€œI just said . . . Oh. Oh. How stupid am I?” Layla set the water aside, pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I’m supposed to stay in the moment, pay attention to the now, and I didn’t. I wasn’t.”
    â€œIt was probably