“Watch your ass.”
Harlow was about to shut his phone when he had a thought. “We will have to drive back, won’t we?”
“They don’t allow injured paranormal creatures on flights… So, unfortunately, yes.”
“Can you call someone to clean my car? There is a giant congealing blood puddle on the front passenger’s side.”
“Where is your car located?”
Harlow quickly explained where it was in the parking lot. The cop actually ended up getting him a really good spot.
“I’ll handle it.”
Harlow grunted and shut his phone. Leaning back, a wave of exhaustion hit him. It felt like he’d been running for hours without a break. Through this whole thing, he’d been tense, his heart elevated, and his body out of whack. At that moment, it was like he had just finally stopped to take a breath.
The question was…why? Harlow…had never felt such…worry.
He blinked. Was he worried? Was that it? Was he worried about Foxx? Harlow shuddered. Ugh…what the hell was wrong with him?
Harlow stood there awkwardly, trying to shower with one leg wrapped in plastic, keeping it as far away from the spray as he could. Running his hand through his hair, he winced when he brushed over the large bump on his head. The skin had broken and it had bled a lot, but fortunately, it hadn’t needed stitches. He possibly shouldn’t have taken the bandage off and gotten it wet, but it was too late now.
Harlow had attempted to sleep. But after hours of lying there and nothing happening, he’d given up. He had to say it was a first for him. Harlow usually could fall asleep anywhere at any time, in any position… Apparently not fucking tonight…today? What the fuck time was it? Midnight! Yes…it should be near midnight.
He sighed. Foxx still hadn’t woken up. Harlow supposed it was too early to expect him to… Yet…it somehow still pissed him off and made him want to shoot someone. But he hadn’t given in to any of his urges. So, go him for showing that thing called ‘restraint’.
It had been a close call a few times. Gladys was apparently the only nurse assigned to this room. Her attitude made him want to kick her out anytime he saw her. He didn’t trust her. Harlow also didn’t think she should be allowed near any paranormal patients. Mainly due to her uncaring attitude about possibly injuring the people she was supposed to be caring for… Not to mention the look of disdain that he’d seen slip onto her face when she thought no one was looking. But what did he know…he was just some dumb hunter.
Harlow stretched, grunting as his joints popped. “Ugh…”
At least he hadn’t seen any sign of the female vampire. He hadn’t seen any sign of that hunter team that was supposed to show up either.
Fuck, what the hell had that bitch been there for? Why them? She…cast multiple illusions…and had seemed shocked that Foxx had reached out and was able to break it. Did that suggest they were a random pick? Or had she just been misinformed about Foxx’s age?
If she had managed to get into the P.E.A.R. database, the age listed for Foxx definitely wouldn’t prepare them to fight against him... But if she had searched for him, it would suggest it wasn’t random. But then…who had she been after? Him or Foxx?
The other semi-important question was, who was she? Before his pathetic attempts to sleep, he’d gotten the woman’s description to a sketch artist at the Guild… The picture didn’t match anyone in the database. So, she was probably unregistered.
Could she have something to do with that cult? Were there others? Or was the problem more widespread? Then again, perhaps whoever she’d been working for…had nothing to do with that cult at all, and it was just a coincidence that she was of the Illusionist line.
Harlow sighed again and leaned his head against the tile of the shower.
* * *
It hurt…everythinghurt. Suffocating…Foxx was suffocating, an unbearable weight was pressing down on him. More than that, there were words flowing all around him, and his brain refused to make sense of them. But each syllable zapped a little bit more of his strength away, making the aches increasingly unbearable with each second that passed by.
Move—he needed to move before it was too late. And he tried, but he couldn’t.
Bound! He was bound. His eyes snapped open and he let out a blood curdling scream. Before him was a vision of nightmares. A cross laid there on Foxx’s chest, while a priest stood over him chanting words of damnation and evil.
The words began to echo in his ears, memories that were long locked away rushed to the surface. Screams of fear unending. With all the energy Foxx had left, he fought the bindings, as a pit of terror swallowed him up, blinding him to everything else in the room.
* * *
Harlow jerked backfrom the shower wall at a scream of pure agony. Without thought, he rushed out, snagging his gun off the edge of the sink as he went.
Harlow’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of a priest standing over Foxx’s bed. The vampire was struggling to break his bindings.
Growling, Harlow charged forward, swiping the cross off Foxx’s chest. Even as the priest tried to retreat, Harlow was on him. Wrapping his hand around his throat, he drove him back, slamming him hard against the wall, pinning him there.
