she was never going to get away; no matter how much she pleaded. This was the only chance she had.
Tara let go of Devan as he crept from the room, but he stretched his hand out behind himself for her to grab. He led her out onto the landing just as the door rattled once more. This time it was louder, more desperate, and they both froze until it was over. Something thudded against the glass panel downstairs - a repetitive thump, thump, thump.
When things quieted, they crept out to the top of the stairs. Devan had a view of the front door from there. Even in darkness, he could make out the shapes of two shadows. Only the glass door stood between them and what they wanted.
Still holding onto Tara, he started to descend the steps. Tara resisted, tugging at his hand for him to stop. “I can't,” she whimpered. She wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was trained on the shadows below, her eyes wide with panic.
“It’s the only way.”
“They’re right there.”
“They’re on the other side. It’s okay. But we don’t have long. We need to go now.” He followed Tara’s gaze. The letter box pushed open. Ominous dark smoke spilled in like the remnants of fire pouring through. “We don’t have much time. We have to go,” he pleaded.
He gripped her hand tighter this time. At that moment, he didn’t care if he hurt her or if he crushed her hand. Getting her out was his priority and if he had to do that with her kicking and screaming, then so be it. He could apologise later. She could be mad at him later, but right now, he needed her out. He yanked her arm hard as he descended a couple more steps.
His arm was jerked backwards as Tara gripped the bannister and refused to move. “Come on,” he growled his command at her. “We have to go.” A sudden buzzing sounded in his ears, like the low hum of a television, only louder. It pressed down on him. He swayed and the darkness in his peripheral vision grew and threatened to steal his sight. His face started to feel like it was melting. He shook his head to try to relieve it, but when he opened his eyes, the world around him was nothing but dark swirls. Tara called his name from a distance. God damn it! He wasn’t going to go like this .
He clutched at his head, willing his vision and lucidity back. The swallow began to burn in his palm.
When he opened his eyes, Tara’s terror-stricken face stared back at him. There was more fear on her face now than when he had found her in her room, one of those things looming outside the window. He knew that his eyes had gone black. She shook her head and started to back up the stairs, but he leapt for her. She tried to move out of the way, but he was faster. He seized her hand and didn’t let go. “Don’t be scared,” he said in a voice that wasn’t quite his own. “It’s me. Okay?”
“You’re one of them?” she said, shaking her head and trying to pull away from him and what he was. Her eyes darted across his face. He could feel her fear. It sank into him, creating an anxiety of his own in his chest. “Let me go.”
“No.”
“What do you want?” she was crying now. Her voice choked with sobs. She pulled hard to free her hand from his, but he just held on tighter. He knew if he let her go, she would run - and she would run right into them. “Please. Let me go,” she begged.
She was trembling as she used her other hand to clutch at his wrist and wrench her hand free. Her fear was growing, each second duplicating it. He could hear it inside. The erratic thoughts of her mind as she broached the line to cross over into hysterics. He moved himself up a step so that they were on the same level. He took both of her hands in his and held her still to look her right in the eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked her.
“You’re one of them,” she repeated again.
“I’m not. I can't explain, but I’m not.”
She shook her head and tried to pull free. With a sudden oath, he captured her face, holding it firm
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham