For Nevermore Season 1

he began to consider his guests in the basement. He was feeling frisky and wanted company. While Noella was pretty, her attitude made her plenty ugly. And while it would be fun to kill her, he didn’t think she’d be as much fun as the other women had been. He considered Josie, whom he normally found somewhat attractive, but now she made him sick, too.
    He’d have to wait, satisfy those urges when he got to Costa Rica.
    Just as well, I’m too damned tired.
    He nodded off, the third beer in his lap.

    **

    Randy was in one of those dreams where he knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t wake up.
    He was in a dark room, tied up, as Noella circled his bound body, casually swinging a long blade in her right hand. She was wearing all black — big surprise — but this was a different sort of outfit. A long black dress that made him think of a witch.
    She slowly circled around him, taking long swipes and laughing as he flinched.
    “Aw, poor Randy can’t play like a big boy?”
    “Shut up!” he screamed. Except his yell came out like the whine of a pig.
    Another swipe, and this one slashed across his face.
    A splatter of blood painted the floor.
    He screamed, closing his eyes. When he opened them, his daddy was standing before him, holding the straight razor he used to shave with. The blade he also used on Randy.
    “Grow up, you little girl,” his daddy said, then swung the razor.

    Randy woke with a start, tipping his beer and soaking the front of his work pants.
    He cursed out loud, hopping from his chair, then tried, in vain, to shake the dampness from his pants. Annoyed, Randy went to the bedroom, found a pair of jeans, and changed his pants.
    He glanced at the clock — 3:11 a.m.
    He considered going to bed so he could get a few hours of shut-eye. He could take care of business in the morning.
    But he was agitated, both by the spilled beer, and also by Noella. Not just the dream witch version of her, but the real version, too. It was her fault everything had fallen to pieces. Her fault he had to go on the run.
    It was all her fault.
    And now it was time to make her pay.
    Randy returned to the living room, grabbed his gun, put it in his waistband, then headed into the kitchen and found the largest blade in the block of knives.
    “Oh yeah, she’s gonna pay, and she owes me interest,” he said, pulling the blade from the block and admiring its glistening edge.
    He grabbed the frying pan from the stovetop and took it with him as he headed through the door to the basement. He flicked on the light and banged on the wall as he descended the stairs, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Wakey, wakey, brains go breaky.”
    His laughter echoed off of the basement walls and back at him. Soon, those echoes would be the dying screams of Noella.

    * * * *

CHAPTER NINE

    Dante woke to the dull ache of knowing Noella was in certain danger – a familiar tug he’d felt countless times before, dozens just in the past few years. But it was now amplified by a hundred. Being bonded to Noella meant he could feel what she felt, no matter their distance in miles or worlds. It was how guardians like him were able to protect their assignments.
    It also hurt like hell.
    He rose to his feet and shouted into the camera, “William!” he called.
    Dante paced the room as the confines of the jacket and the walls seemed to somehow tighten around him, restricting him further.
    “William! She’s in danger!”
    Moments later, his door opened, and William appeared on the other side, his eyes more hollow than usual. He hadn’t slept. He’d been on his way to Dante before being summoned. Something was wrong.
    Dante’s instincts were right.
    “What’s wrong?” Dante asked. “Something’s happened to her, hasn’t it?”
    William closed the door behind him, then removed his glasses and wiped his eyes.
    “She’s not in her house. Nobody is. Carter went back tonight to do the job and he said no one was there. He senses that something terrible has happened.”
    “I know,” Dante said. “I feel it too. You must release me.”
    “I can’t,” William shook his head.
    “She’s in danger! Do you want her to die? Or worse, do you want the Queen’s people to get ahold of her?”
    “Perhaps they already have,” William suggested.
    “No,” Dante insisted. “She’s still here. I can feel her. But she’s in danger. Something horrible is about to happen.”
    William put his glasses back on and shook his head, “Let’s say you save