Read Malice for Free Online Page A

nose. There was a sound like boiled eggs being plucked from their shell. He pulled his hands free and Lysander could see he was holding something in each hand. They were jiggling in his grasp. He had plucked out his own eyes, Lysander realized with horror. Dangling down the man’s blood-stained forearms like sinewy bits of rope were his optic nerves. At last, he collapsed and lay still.
    Lysander suddenly felt an intense chill grip him. A gray mist began forming on the floor. The ghost, the creature, whatever the hell it was, was leaving the thin man’s corpse and moving purposely toward the other form lying prostrate on the floor. They united and the fingers of the shadow’s left hand began to do a subtle dance. The movement went up to his arm, then to his head. He propped himself up on his shoulder, admiring his work. Suddenly, the shadow’s head snapped in Lysander’s direction. His head perked up and for a moment it seemed as though he was sniffing the air. Sniffing for a scent he had found floating past him in the breeze.
    Invisible icy tentacles began snaking out, probing blindly like something used to dark and damp places.
    Lysander began to back away, but the tentacles were closing in.
    Just then he felt another presence, a sound. He tried listening in spite of his gnawing fear. It sounded like a wolf, snarling low, vicious and threatening.
    The tentacles approached and the growling turned to vicious snapping. Lysander swore he could hear the sound of jaws clamping shut, gnashing at dead air.
    Someone was calling his name. Lysander…Lysander…Lysander. Sudden movement. Then blackness and pain. The pain racked his whole body with such intensity he couldn’t remember when he ever felt anything so real. His eyes opened to a dim room. Dim was good. Anything was better than orange. Later he would remember only flashes.
    Samantha was above him, talking to him softly.

Chapter 8
     
     
    Alex turned left on Lincoln and into Wallace’s Motorcycle Repair. Gravel crushed under his tires. He stopped in front of a steel door that framed a dilapidated sign which read “employees only.”
    The door swung open with a screech, and a tiny bell rang overhead. A round, misshapen man in dirty overalls glanced up from behind a large TV; antennas stretched out like the feelers of some mutant insect.
    “Deputy,” the man said nonchalantly. He had a cool, unhurried air to him as though the trifling world of mortal concerns was far behind him. He stood and waddled over to Alex, favoring his right leg.
    Alex took off his hat. “I’m looking for Derek.”
    Wallace examined his watch, as though there was a new dial there he hadn’t seen before.
    “Well, never showed up fer work last night. Does that sometimes, that boy. Never a call or nothin’, just plain doesn’t show up.” There was a whistle when he spoke. He looked up at Alex and his bottom lip hung down, revealing a row of empty spaces. “He’s a darn good mechanic, so I let the little things go once in a while. Why? He in trouble again?”
    “You could say that.”
    Wallace leaned forward, eyes fixed on Alex’s nose. “He do that to you?”
    Alex shifted, and his heavy boots scuffed the wood floor. “Derek violated the terms of his parole. I was trying to apprehend him—”
    “Deputy, I know Derek’s a big boy, but he doesn’t fight unless he’s got to.”
    “He did today and we’re looking for him now.”
    Wallace turned back at the TV, seemingly enthralled. “That’s too bad. He’s a good kid you know. One of the best mechanics I ever seen.” Wallace wiped his nose with his hand again. “What you gonna do to him?”
    “Depends. If he turns himself in, we’ll go easy. He assaulted an officer, but we may be able to work something out.” Alex was lying through his teeth, of course, but the old man had to think that Derek would be coming back to work when this was all over or else he would never cooperate.
    Wallace remained silent.
    “You have any