

Blood of the Forgotten

Excerpt
“Hutch McLaren. It’s about time, isn’t it?” Hayden’s voice reached him in the dark, but something was off—her pitch was higher, lacking the usual melody in her tone. She stretched herself over him, scraping something from the floor above his head.
His Glock?
The flashlight on his phone flared to life, casting the living room in an arrangement of ghostly shadows. Hayden loomed over him, her knees pressing into the rug on either side of his waist. Her eyebrows jerked upward, twitching uncontrollably, while her lips quivered. Even her shoulders twitched, jerking up toward her neck in a manic, almost deranged rhythm.
This was not Hayden.
“What do you want?” Hutch asked the Forgotten. It was a ridiculous question. He knew what Hayden’s demon wanted. Every Forgotten hungered for death and destruction, but he needed to keep this one distracted long enough to formulate a plan. Hayden might not be lost to him yet.
“Oh, please. I know what you’re doing.” The imposter stretched over him again. It rested Hayden’s forearms on his chest, the action reminding him of a lazy cat. “You’re trying to figure out if she’ll come back. Don’t worry, she is still here with us. Just sleeping.”
The tip of Hayden’s tongue darted out, sweeping across her upper lip. The demon’s seductive grin widened, mindful of Hutch’s involuntary shiver. “She won’t be very happy to know I’ve taken her skin for another joy ride.”
“That so?” he grunted. Hayden’s elbow dug into his sternum. She dropped her chin onto her fist. A sadistic cat. “How many joy rides are we talking about?”
The face snickered at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Secrets, secrets, secrets. We all have them. What are your secrets, Hutch McLaren?”
Clenching his teeth, Hutch glared into Hayden’s green irises, now twisted with dark intent. He wondered if she would remember any of this when she returned. If she returned.
According to British research, three subjects had succumbed to the phenomenon, never regaining consciousness. Their files were the shortest Hutch had reviewed. Of the eleven remaining participants, eight experienced lapses in awareness, but their final analyses showed they successfully prevented the convergence altogether.
“I know one of your secrets,” the Forgotten said in a stage whisper. It bared all of Hayden’s teeth when it smiled, her lips convulsing as if the real girl inside was fighting to regain control. Not a girl. At nineteen, Hayden was much more than that—a fact Hutch struggled to ignore at present.
“You like her.” The demon pressed a finger into the center of his chin. “I know you do. I can smell it on you.” It trilled another terrible laugh. “Wanna know what she thinks about you?”
It was a trap, riddled with deception. Hutch needed to change the subject. “You know my name. Care to tell me yours?”
The demon sucked its teeth. “You can call me . . . Tenebrae.”
Hutch caught the pause. “But that’s not your name.”
When the dark smile spread on Hayden’s features, he decided not to press the matter.
Blood of the Forgotten
available soon!
