Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

she was, especially since she was so plagued by the rattle in her head.
    Rose turned into a strip mall parking lot and made for the Starbucks. She dove into the bathroom first thing, locked the door, and stripped off her shirt. She’d had it all of half an hour—a modest turtleneck, fall flowers embroidered in a pretty turn over the breast—and it was already stained with red splatters. The sticky red was on her hands, too, but she had to make do with just water, as the soap pump was out.
    The smell in the room was a little strong. How people could be so lazy about their work, she didn’t know. She had half a mind to . . . well, there was no time now.
    She used her nails to scratch and scrape at the black lines under her cuticles. Evidence was such a trial. One hand was a little worse for wear. At first she thought the knuckles were just swollen from the fight, but the bones seemed different, too. Longer. The muscles were corded and sinewy, the fingernails coarser. Didn’t look right. That hand, her bad hand, she’d have to keep carefully hidden, or else people would stare.
    Reasonably clean, she drew on another of her new shirts, a lovely pale yellow, like her sunny nature.
    When she emerged, a coffee was waiting for her at the pickup counter. As she walked out the door a customer yelled behind her, “Hey, that’s mine!” but Rose paid him no mind. She made a point not to respond to uncouth behavior like shouting. His mother should have taught him better. If he persisted, Rose would.
    She got back in her car feeling much refreshed and looked down the street for signs of a freeway entrance. Somewhere along the way she’d have to dump the body in her trunk before it started to smell. Unclean things, bodies. Maybe it’d be quicker to leave the car instead and find herself another, something roomier that didn’t smell like cigarettes. She didn’t want to keep Mickey waiting. Twelve years was enough, sweet man. A green sign directed her to I-95 heading south.
    But the kat in Rose’s head said , That way! West. Go that way!
    And then she knew what the sound was. She should have recognized it at once. The rattle had to be the gate. No matter how far she ran, she’d never be free of Hell. kat-a-kat: That way!
    No. She accelerated to exit the intersection. Before morning she could be in Mickey’s arms.
    kat-a-kat: Obey me. Turn. Now.
    It really wasn’t fair. All she wanted to do was get back to her sweetheart— twelve years! —before she was caught and sent back to the bad place. And here the bad place was coming after her before she could do a really good deed. A big one. Mickey would know just the thing.
    kat-a-kat: Kill a woman, and you’ll never have to fear that place again.
    Rose eased her foot off the gas. “Any woman?” That was easy. Women were everywhere. kat-a-kat: Layla Mathews.
    â€œAnd I’ll be free?”
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat
    Her bad hand kept the steering wheel steady while she whipped the car into a tight turn.
    Open, empty road was before her, so Rose closed her eyes. A quick stop, perhaps a difficult moment when she’d have to take care of some unpleasantness, and then freedom. Mickey. He’d be so happy to see her.

Chapter 6
    Khan cradled Layla in his arms as a third metallic shock wave hit her. The blast also shredded his Shadows, their frayed edges whipping with the warped currents that wracked her body, the room, the air, but she was shuddering and insensible to his near dissolution. He was Shadow weak, but he still commanded the layers of darkness to open a passage, to permit a final shift to Segue. The danger came from another location, but to that high place, he could not go. His only hope was that Adam could get word to Custo.
    Twilight sighed around him, its power briefly suffusing his being. He used the rush to propel himself back into mortality, where he crouched in a large empty room of Segue’s main floor, Layla in his arms. “Adam!”
    A heartbeat among the many within Segue accelerated, the person moving quickly. Others joined the first, and together they ranged closer. Finally, Adam, jogging down a connected series of wide rooms, appeared. He was breathless, confusion and alarm a static pop around him. “What’s going—?”
    â€œCall the angel,” Khan rasped. “Tell him to stop.”
    A handful of other mortals gathered and watched from a few paces