She used what little strength she had left to roll the clown over onto his front, then yanked an arm behind his back and got one of the cuffs around his wrist. Even semiconscious, he was strong enough to resist her efforts and she couldn’t get his arm around to cuff that wrist. It didn’t help that it was coated in so much of his blood she couldn’t get a grip on it.
That was when she realized it wasn’t his blood but hers.
She was bleeding to death.
Refusing to think about what that meant, Rachel tried to pull the man’s left arm around, but the stab wounds in her chest and back were making it difficult to get a breath. Her vision was getting fuzzy, too. Suddenly, it was like she was viewing everything through a curtain. One that was getting thicker by the second.
She was close to giving up when a slender pair of hands reached out and covered her own. Rachel lifted her head to see Hannah kneeling beside her. Even in the darkness, the young girl’s face looked pale. She’d lost almost as much blood as Rachel.
Hannah didn’t say anything as she helped get the clown’s left arm back behind his back, then worked with Rachel to get the cuff on his wrist. Once that was done, it was like every ounce of energy left in Rachel’s body evaporated and she slumped down to the ground on one hip.
Suddenly, she was surrounded by warmth as Hannah moved close and settled down at her side. The girl wrapped an arm around her, resting her cheek on Rachel’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving me. And for not leaving me. Or letting him hurt me.”
“I made a promise,” Rachel said softly. “I never go back on a promise.”
Hannah didn’t say anything for a moment. “He’s not really a clown, is he?”
Rachel shook her head, alarmed at how dizzy even that simple movement made her. “I’m pretty sure he’s not. But if he is, then he’s the worst clown in the world.”
Hannah lifted her head from Rachel’s shoulder to gaze into the fog at the blue and red flashing lights of the police cars that were coming closer. After a moment, she put her head on Rachel’s shoulder again.
“I don’t like clowns,” Hannah said.
“No one likes clowns,” Rachel replied.
Her vision was getting dimmer by the second and breathing was almost too painful to bother with. She wasn’t going to make it until help arrived.
“Rachel!”
She jumped at the panic in Hannah’s voice. That’s when Rachel realized she’d fallen over and was lying on the ground near the clown, staring straight into his open eyes. She freaked, horrified he’d fully regained consciousness at the same time she was losing hers. The thought of what he could do to Hannah even though he was in cuffs terrified her.
“Rachel, you have to stay awake!” Hannah shook Rachel’s shoulder. “They’re almost here. I can see the red and blue lights.”
Rachel tried to do as Hannah asked, but her eyelids were suddenly so heavy. Nothing hurt anymore, so that was good. On the downside, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. It struck her that she was dying. The fact that backup had arrived and that Hannah would be okay made her feel better about that.
But as she lay there on the cold ground, staring into the clown’s glowing red eyes, Rachel realized she was still scared—of leaving Hannah behind after making her a promise and of being so close to this creepy-ass clown. More than anything, though, she was scared of dying. There was still so much she’d never had a chance to do with her life. Like learn to play a musical instrument like she wanted to, travel to exotic places she’d dreamed about, or even fall in love. Panic began to overwhelm her as she realized she was never going to get a chance to do any of it.
As that fear threatened to choke out what little breath she had left in her lungs, the clown grinned at her, his bloodied lips pulled wide as if he could sense her terror and it was the most amusing thing he’d ever seen.
That nightmarish smile of his—and the all-consuming fear she felt—was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.
Chapter 1
Dallas, Texas, Present Day
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like crap.”
From where she sat on the bench lacing her boots in the SWAT team’s locker room on the second floor of the admin building, Rachel glanced up to see fellow officer Khaki Blake regarding her with concern. Tall with long, dark hair and brown eyes, Khaki was the only other female werewolf on the Dallas PD SWAT Team. But more than that, she was Rachel’s best friend. And when friends started a conversation withdon’t take this the wrong way, it was because they knew you would.
“We just ran ten miles cross-country for physical training this morning,” Rachel pointed out, returning her attention to her boots. “How do you expect me to look?”
“I didn’t say you looked tired. I said you look like crap.”
“What’s the difference?” Rachel asked, not sure she wanted to know.
“Tired means you stayed up late binging something on Netflix,” her friend said. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
Rachel finished lacing her boots, then sat up with a sigh. In addition to the showers and locker room, there were also a handful of cots as well as a kitchenette. If you had to work a double shift, it was nice to be able to come up here to catch some rest.
