Drake Sisters 02 - The Twilight Before Christmas

others watching her. Some were merely curious, others hostile. None were friendly. She was a living being, and they were long gone. Something slithered close to her feet. She felt the touch of something slimy against her arm. Kate took another breath and cal ed out softly. At once she saw it. A terrifying sight. Tal , bare white bones, the skul ghastly with a gaping mouth and empty sockets for eyes. It wasn’t ful y formed.
    A great hole was in the chest cavity. The ribs were missing. It came striding toward her, and she noticed that the skeleton wore old-fashioned boots stuck at the end of the sticklike bones of its legs. She might have laughed had it not been so frightening. The bones rattled as it rushed toward her, deadly purpose in every bone.
    “Kate!” Abigail’s cry echoed Hannah’s and Sarah’s.
    Kate held up her hand to ward the thing off as it reached her.
    Matt felt Kate’s energy crackling in the air around them, a fierce force never wavering, yet her slender body shook with the effort, or maybe with fear, crumbling beneath the strain. Without warning he felt every hair on his body stand up. Kate went sickly pale. Afraid for her, he swept her up into his arms and held her tight against his chest, the only thing he could do to shelter her from the onslaught of the wind and the menace of the fog.
    Kate wrenched herself from the shadow world, opened her eyes, expecting to see Matt. Empty sockets stared back at her. The skul ’s mouth gaped wide, the jaw loose, bony fingers wrapping around her throat. She screamed and pul ed away, trying to run when there was nowhere to go. The pressure on her throat increased. She choked.
    The wind rose to a howl. Feminine voices became commanding. The bony fingers slid from Kate’s throat. She fel to the ground and stared in horror as the voices of the Drake women forced the skeleton away from her one dragging step at a time. Those pitiless empty eye sockets stared at her with malice. Kate tried to scoot crablike in the opposite direction, feeling sick as the entity clacked white bones together in a dark, ugly promise of retaliation.
    The wind blew sand into the air, obscuring Kate’s vision. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly against the new assault. At once she felt Matt’s body pressed close to hers. Afraid to look, she lifted her lashes, hands out in front of her for protection. Matt’s reassuring face was there, the planes and angles familiar to her. She buried her face against his throat, felt the warmth of his body leeching some of the icy cold from hers.
    The fog crept back toward the ocean slowly, almost grudgingly, retreating from around the house and deck to the beach, with obvious reluctance.
    With Kate safely in his arms, Matt stared in horror at the wet sand. Distinct footprints were left behind, as if someone had backed toward the ocean with short, dragging steps, a man’s boots with run-down heels. A cold chil swept down his spine. His gaze went from the prints in the sand to Jonas. “What the hel are we dealing with here?”

Chapter
7
    As lovers meet b eneath mistletoe b right,
    Terror ignites down b elow them this night.
    MATT STARED DOWN AT KATE’S FACE. SHE LAY in his bed, sound asleep, the signs of exhaustion present even as she slept. She looked more fragile than ever, as if fighting back the entity in the fog had taken most of her spirit and drained al of her strength. The curtains over his sliding glass door were pul ed back to al ow him a clear view of the ocean. He had always enjoyed the sight and sound of the waves pounding, but now he searched the horizon for signs of the fog. Kate was worn out. He worried that if the entity returned, she wouldn’t have the strength to fight it, even though she’d slept for hours. The day had disappeared, and night had fal en.
    He rubbed his hands over his face to wipe away his own exhaustion. He hadn’t slept the night before, standing watch at Kate’s bedside, and he was feeling the effects. He had stripped her of her clothes and wrapped her in one of his shirts. It was far too big for her and covered every curve. He’d tucked her in his bed and al the while she lay passively, making little effort to do anything but close her eyes. He had the feeling she’d faced something far worse than the fog, but she hadn’t been ready to talk about it with him. Recognizing the signs of exhaustion, he hadn’t pushed her.
    Matt removed his shirt and shoes and socks and stretched out beside her. He