Allie.That must mean Allie.
My blood turned to ice.
“But mostly he thinks about me now,” Timmy continued, and my heart stopped entirely. “He says I’m special. He says not all little boys can talk to him.”
“Timmy, listen to me.” I pulled him closer, probably too tightly, but I didn’t care. “Don’t talk to the knocking man. Don’t listen to him. If you hear him thinking, you think about something else. Boo Bear or Elena or dinosaurs or anything else. Okay?”
“But he likes me.”
“And this is a fun game he likes, too. So promise me. Promise you’ll play this game?”
“Okay, Mommy,” he said, unaware that something ancient and terrible was trying to use him as a doorway.
“I told him no anyway,” Timmy added, nestling into my arms. “I told him you wouldn’t let him in. I said my mommy fights monsters.”
I forced myself not to gasp, then held him tight, letting him drift to sleep as I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and felt the cold weight of fear settle into my bones.
This wasn’t just a portal anymore. This wasn’t just Samarek trying to get to Allie.
He was targeting my son.
We’d been focused on closing the portal. On researching and training and preparing.
But now we were out of time for all of that. This thing was stalking my boy, and we needed to end it now.
I pressed my lips to Timmy’s forehead, breathing in the little-boy smell of him, the shampoo and the warmth and the absolute trust. He believed I could protect him. Believed it without question or doubt.
I had to make that true.
And so I eased myself out of his bed, tucking the covers around him, positioning Boo Bear within easy reach. At the door, I paused and looked back at his small form in the nightlight glow.
“I won’t let him in,” I said, a promise carved from steel and terror and a mother’s love. “I swear I will keep you safe.”
As I whispered, Timmy slept on, peaceful and trusting.
And somewhere below us, in the dark beneath the bones of saints, something ancient kept knocking. Louder now. Almost through.
I needed to find Eric. We needed to close that portal.
And we needed to do it tonight.
I’d knownI would find him in the library. That was where he always retreated when he needed to think or relax or puzzle something out. That was one of the things I loved most about him—the way he puzzled things out instead of leaping straight into the fray as I always had. And that was part of why he’d loved me—because we’d each fit each other’s open spaces, the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
We always had. And, I knew, we still did.
He looked up when I came in and flashed that familiar smile. Tonight, though, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He’s knocking at the door,” I said, then tasted tears and realized I was crying. Immediately, Eric was at my side, his fingers twining with mine.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Timmy.” It was all I could manage. I had to force the sobs back before saying more. “The Knocking Man from before. Oh,God, Eric, he’s Samarek, and he’s going to try to hurt my little boy.”
“He won’t.” He tilted my chin up so that I was looking straight at him. “We won’t let him. Kate,” he whispered. “We’re going to end this.”
I started to nod, but he cupped his hands to my face, then pressed his forehead against mine. He leaned in, and even through all my emotional chaos and fear, I wanted his kiss, his touch, and when his lips closed over mine, it was all I could do not to pull him down to the floor and lose myself in touch and memory and a wild, untamed longing.
That didn’t happen.
