Moonlight Kin 2: Aidan's Mate (Mid-Length Novel) (23 page)

Her actions mirrored every slasher movie she’d ever seen, including the ones tonight. Desperation clawed at Madie as she bent down to pick her keys up. Whatever was in the alleyway felt
closer
.

“Open, open, open,” she commanded. Her fingers trembled as she shoved the key into the lock and turned it. With a soft click, the door opened.

“Thank goodness,” she muttered as she rushed inside.

The interior of her apartment was dark. Darker than it had been outside. Madie’s heart thudded in her chest, beating double time against her ribcage. She listened for anything out of place. Silence met her.

Did that mean she was alone?

The scrape of stone came again. Madie slammed and locked the door behind her, then threw her back against the wooden structure for good measure. She’d take her chances.

Despite the deadbolt, Madie knew in her bones that what was outside could get in if it truly wanted to. She rubbed her hands along her arms, fighting a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

She pushed away from the door and flipped on all the lights. Madie checked all the prime monster-hiding areas, behind her yellow throw-covered couch, in the closet, the shower, and under the bed. Grateful for once that her apartment wasn’t spacious.

Handpicked for its coziness, this dwelling stood for so much—college, future dreams, and true freedom. It might be small, but it was home...at least until she graduated.

Madie walked across her modest parlor into the kitchenette. A cup of green tea would banish the last of the cold and steady her frayed nerves.

Holding the mug with both hands, she blew on the surface of the hot liquid, inhaling the pungent musty odor as she debated whether to phone her father. They’d been close at one time. Well as close as a father, who’d wanted a son, could be to his only child. But those days were long gone. They’d died the same day her mother passed.

The warmth of the mug chased the last of the chill from her hands, but couldn’t penetrate the bone-deep fear. The howl kept forcing its way into her thoughts. She remembered childhood stories passed down by Papa about two-legged wolves that walked upright. Said to look human, the creatures could stand beside you, enthrall with a single thought, and you wouldn’t know the truth until they ripped your heart out.

At the time, Madie had dismissed the stories as nonsense, thinking Papa had obviously read one too many fairytales. Yet, there was no mistaking the howl. It
had
been a wolf. Hadn’t it? She knew wolves didn’t come near the city. In fact, other than Wolf Hollow in nearby Ipswich, they were extinct to the area.

Something else lurked in the darkness tonight.

A shiver tickled her spine and traveled all the way to her toes. Madie took a sip of tea, praying the warm elixir would ease some of her tension. “You’ve just watched one too many movies. Let it go.”

She shook her head and finished the contents of the cup. She wouldn’t call. There was no sense feeding Papa’s delusions. They were already bad enough and were growing worse by the day.

Madie put the cup in the sink, then headed upstairs to bed. “No more midnight horror movies for you. Next you’ll start believing that werewolves are real and the grotesques on the courthouse come to life.”

Even as she said the words, Madie walked unerringly to the corner of her bedroom and picked up her baseball bat. The weight of the heavy wooden club in her hand calmed her instantly.

Better safe than dead.

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