I spotted a house with the door kicked in and veered toward it. I didn’t have to look at the address to know it was hers. Throwing a leg over the seat, I hopped off while the bike was still in motion, letting it fall as I ran.
I darted up the front steps, vaguely taking in the bench swing and the white painted posts and railing, in favor of focusing on the destruction to her door.
That splintering crash I had heard was the sound of something bursting through. Normally when someone kicked in a door, they concentrated on the weak point next to the handle. Whatever had done this went straight for the middle, using enough force to break a solid oak door in half.
I drew my gun from the holster, holding it in a two handed grip as I stepped inside. Or at least that’s what I intended to do. A force stopped me at the threshold.
I tried again. Nope. Didn’t work.
I backed up to the edge of the porch and took a running start. The force stretched like taffy as I made it one step, then two steps inside. I dug deeper, trying to put enough strength behind that third step to get me further in.
The force rebounded like a sling shot, flinging me outside. I sailed through the air, landing on my back. My hand didn’t let go of the gun, though I made sure my finger wasn’t on the trigger.
I sat up and glared at the door. Turns out that old wives’ tale about vampires not being able to enter a human’s home uninvited was true. Great time to discover at least one superstition had merit.
Wait, if I wasn’t able to get in, that meant Caroline had to be alive. I’d been able to get into other homes after the owners were dead so the handicap was tailored to the living.
“As entertaining as this is, just what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Peter asked next to my ear.
I yelped and spun around, bringing the gun up to point at the sorcerer.
He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “I doubt your toy will have any effect on me.”
“You ever been shot before?” I asked, lowering the gun.
He thought about it. “I don’t think that I have.”
“Then how do you know it won’t hurt you?”
He gave a slight shrug as if to concede the point. “Fair point. That brings us back to my question of what you’re doing. As entertaining as it is to watch your flying lessons, I’m sure Ms. Caroline will not like it when you crush one of her rose bushes. She’s quite fond of them.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand when she finds out I was trying to save her,” I said, wiping dirt from the seat of my jeans.
He frowned, his gaze going to the door. He rushed up the steps and inside, leaving me standing by myself.
“What do you see?” I asked, walking up the steps and stopping at her threshold.
“There’s blood.”
I bowed my head and shut my eyes.
“I don’t think there’s enough to signify death, but she was hurt when they took her.”
Hold on Caroline, I urged silently. I’ll find a way to save you.
“Can you invite me in?” I asked, my voice thick with repressed emotion.
The sorcerer appeared in the doorway, his face serious. I thought he looked a little older since I’d left him with Caroline in the library. It wasn’t much, just a slight maturing around the eyes and mouth. I could have been imagining it, though.
“Aileen Travers, I bid you welcome.”
I pushed against the threshold. It resisted a moment before breaking. I stepped through, the scent of blood permeating the air. My eyes went to the bright liquid that was already drying. The freshness told me I hadn’t missed them by much.
There was more of it than I had assumed based on Peter’s assessment. The wound was serious.
I squashed the urge to throw stuff. Losing my cool wouldn’t help my friend. I needed that calm in a storm the military attempted to teach its soldiers.
First, assess the situation. You can’t act effectively without the facts.
