Chapter 1
Kelly
Six hours. That’s how much longer I’m trapped in this fluorescent nightmare, watching the clock crawl toward freedom. The sleepiness creeps in, making every minute feel like an hour.
I sigh and pull out my stethoscope, adjusting it in my ears before opening the latch to the metal cage where a little brown lionhead rabbit sleeps, still recovering from yesterday’s surgery. Someone found her bleeding in the middle of the street, brought her in, and left before we could even get a name.
She and a cat are staying overnight for observation. The only two patients I need to keep an eye on while I try not to fall asleep during this night shift.
I prefer nights. Nights mean I don’t have to deal with people and their bullshit. No exhausting myself explaining the same thing over and over to owners who won’t listen anyway.
The rabbit’s heart rate is steady; she’s just drowsy from the anesthesia. I give her a gentle scratch and close the latch. The cat hisses when I open his cage but tolerates the exam, letting me press the stethoscope to his chest. I note everything in his chart, secure the latch, and head out of the kennel area toward the office to tackle the paperwork I’ve been avoiding.
We usually keep one vet here at night for emergencies while the rest are on call since we handle all the K-9 injuries for the police. That doesn’t happen often, so mostly the nights are quiet and peaceful. I walk past the whiteboard in the long hallway and scoff before flipping it off. My boss, Gary, is the biggest asshole on the entire planet and has written a passive-aggressive note for the overnight staff.
In other words, me.
The only reason I’m even still at this stupid clinic is because my best friend, Camilla, works here and helped me get the job. She’s also the only reason I stay mentally sane while working here.
The office is ice cold, and the fluorescents hum like angry wasps. I power on the computer and immediately want to throw it out the window when the update screen loads. Great—no logging post-op notes today. Doesn’t really matter though since the system eats them regularly anyway. Last week, it swallowed three full reports, and Gary forced me to rewrite everything from memory.
I drop my elbows on the desk and bury my face in my hands. I am one more software crash away from chucking this piece of shit and filing a break-in report. Not that anyone would believe someone broke in here since there’s nothing worth stealing. The most exciting thing that’s happened since I started working here two years ago was someone hurling a rock through the front window, and Gary still wouldn’t get cameras. Said it “wasn’t in the budget” and then spent two grand on a new espresso machine for his office that only he’s allowed to use.
I rest my forehead against the desk. The surface is cold, a relief from the stale air and the quiet hum of the computer doing absolutely nothing. I close my eyes and sigh. This year’s been a nightmare, and I’m barely holding it together.
My eyelids grow heavy. I’m too drained to fight it, so I let out a breath and don’t move. Maybe a five-minute nap would help, just to stop thinking. My body sinks into the chair with arms crossed under my head while the sounds around me blur—the soft hum of the fridge in the break room, the ticking of the wall clock, the occasional creak from the hallway. It’s not comfortable, but my brain shuts up for once.
Something startles me awake.
I jerk my head up, blinking hard against the computer screen’s glare.
Fuck, I slept for twenty minutes. I straighten up and drag my palms down my face, working the kink out of my neck when a sound from the far end of the hallway stops me cold.
My stomach knots. Did I sleep through an alarm? Did someone bring in another K-9, and I missed it completely?
I move toward the door and lean against the frame. “Hello?”
Silence.
I walk through the hallway, past the staff lounge, toward the kennels. It’s only the rabbit and the cat back here, and both of them are drugged to hell. No way they made that sound.
I scratch at my scalp, trying to think through the fog, when something crunches under my shoe. Glass. All over the floor. Big, sharp pieces scattered like gravel and catching light from outside, shining faint in the dark. I follow the trail that leads me to blood smeared across the tile.
My stomach knots.
The staff entrance has a shattered window. It’s completely busted out, and the door’s been unlocked from the inside through the broken glass. My arms were over my head when I was sleeping. Probably muffled the sound of the window breaking … Blood smears the glass shards and pools on the tile below.
I start backing away. I think I’m going to be sick …
Each step crunches louder than the last. I keep going until I hit something.
No, not something.Someone.
Arms grab me from behind, one across my mouth. I slip, and my whole body locks up. Cold metal presses to the side of my head, and I try to breathe, but my chest won’t move. I can’t talk, can’t move, can’t even think past the screaming in my skull.
This is it. This is how I go.
He’s finally here to finish the job.
