Page 37

Chapter 1

Amelia

My bare arms pebbled with goosebumps. It wasn’t the cold that was the cause, though, but nervousness.

My gaze darted around the sidewalk lit by streetlights.

On the other side of the road, a man was walking in the opposite direction, but I didn’t see anyone ahead of me on my side.

Uneasiness crawled along my skin. A creeping sensation came over me, like eyes on the back of my neck.

I swiveled my attention behind me and almost jumped out of my skin as footsteps approached rapidly…

A jogger whizzed past me.

For goodness' sake, Amelia. Get a grip .

Putting my head down, I picked up my pace, trying to keep my breaths even.

Unhelpfully, the voice of Becky, my landlord, traipsed through my thoughts: “ There’s been five now. Five.”

It had been all over the news these past few weeks. Or had it already been a month that these disappearances had been going on?

A shiver ran down my spine.

It had all been young women who’d disappeared. They’d all been around twenty my age.

Becky’s voice played through my mind again. “Amelia, if I were you, I’d be more careful. Maybe it’s time to look for a different job.”

Frustration twisted through my chest. It was easy for her to say.

Becky had the luxury of owning a complex of apartments to make her living.

I vaguely remembered a world in which I didn’t need to slog my guts out in a shop for minimum wage, only to take my life in my hands every night I walked home.

But whether I liked it or not, my simple job was all I had. It alone paid for my measly apartment, my food, and my bills. I tried to shake away the sour mood that had settled over me. As I trudged along the road, I started to think about positive things.

The city was in the middle of a hot, dry spell.

I was only wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

I loved these summer nights when Seattle finally gave us some much-needed warmth.

I’d sit out in the courtyard of my apartment’s complex on these nights, pretending I was somewhere exotic.

I drew in a deep, calming breath, trying it now as I pictured the Aztec pyramids of Mexico, fringed with jungles.

But the blare of a horn from a passing car made it impossible to tune out my decidedly ordinary surroundings.

I heaved a sigh. The tight black T-shirt I wore with the words Convenience Cove scrawled on the front felt scratchy and too thick in this heat.

Convenience Cove was the shop I worked at here in Seattle.

It was Monday night, and I’d just finished my late shift.

I tried to keep my back straight and walk with confidence, but anxiety swirled through me.

I reminded myself that I’d already submitted a handful of job applications.

I might get one of them soon enough. They were all a step up in salary from my current one.

Maybe in a few months, by putting aside a little bit extra from my paychecks, I’d be able to get a car.

At least then, I’d feel safer on my commute.

I put my hands in my pockets, trying to feel at ease and fight my jumpiness.

My right hand rested against my phone, and I felt a little calmer at the thought of it there.

I didn’t bother bringing a bag or purse with me to the store, as I knew it was just another temptation for any unsavory characters at this time of night.

I’d heard about plenty of muggings in the area and quickly decided that only my phone was necessary on my commutes.

Once more, Becky’s voice grated its warning through my mind. “This area ain't safe, girl. There’s a killer on the loose.”

Damn it, Becky. I really wished that my landlady would quit dropping her Good Samaritan advice whenever she got the chance. My rent may be cheap, but it definitely came with health risks. She had a lot to do with my current level of anxiety.

After all, Becky was dramatizing the reports. There’d been no murders. These women had disappeared, yes, but no bodies had been found. I shook my head in disbelief at the distressing path my thoughts had taken.

Great job calming yourself down, Amelia. Start thinking about bodies as you walk the dark streets.

I quickened my steps every time I passed an alleyway. The slithering dread came over me that if I looked down one, I might catch sight of a body on the ground.

Each pool of lamplight that punctuated the dark sidewalks was a welcome relief, and I kept up my quick pace, trying to focus on the next one ahead each time the dimness set my teeth on edge.

The headlights of a passing car lit up the gray streets and closed shops around me for a welcome moment.

I reassured myself that I was about halfway home.

In another fifteen minutes, I’d be back in my cozy apartment.

I thought of the warm glow of my lamp in the living room, my snug blanket on the sofa, and a steaming cup of chamomile tea.

But I couldn’t get the reports out of my head.

Unease gnawed at me as the women’s pictures from the news bulletins flashed in my mind.

I imagined their loved ones not knowing what had happened to them, and a pang of sympathy welled up.

I knew what it was like to lose those closest to you.

I only had vague memories of my mom. She’d passed away when I was very young.

For most of my life, it had been me and my dad against the world.

Just the thought of him made me smile. We’d been a good team. My dad had been all I’d ever needed.

As if a chill wind had suddenly rolled in, coldness crept through me.

When I turned eighteen, Dad was diagnosed with cancer.

He’d worked in construction all his life, but pretty soon, as his illness worsened, he had to quit.

That’s how I wound up working at Convenience Cove.

In fact, I took as many jobs as I could to try and cover the medical bills for his treatment.

And I didn’t mind at all. My plans to travel and then go to college could take a raincheck.

After all, my plan had always been to see the world once my dad retired and I completed college.

We’d been adamant that we would see it together.

We’d spent my whole childhood dreaming and making a list of all the places we would go.

Dad’s illness was just a blip in our plans.

We comforted ourselves with the thought that once he’d fought off his cancer, our trip would mean even more.

But with each passing day, the realization that he wasn’t winning the fight grew.

Before Dad passed away, he made me promise to see the world for both of us.

Another sigh loosed itself from my chest. How, at twenty, had the possibility of traveling slipped so far below the horizon?

I frowned, the weight of what my dad would think of my crummy life settling heavily on my shoulders.

I realized, somehow, that as I was distracted feeding my never-ending list of worries, I hadn’t noticed how deserted the streets around me had become. My heart raced as I noticed that there hadn’t even been any passing cars for the last few minutes. The quiet grated on me.

Then, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Steps echoed behind me. I took my hands out of my pockets, bringing my phone out too, as I hurried home.

But the footsteps quickened.

Fear gripped me as I fumbled with my phone, ready to call 911. My pulse raced in my temples and my breathing shallowed as I started to hit the keypad, but the pounding steps behind me accelerated. They were so close.

My heart leaped into my throat, and adrenaline flooded my body.

I broke into a run. Each smack of my foot urged me to go faster.

Then, shooting pain flared at my waist, and I felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me.

I tried to fight it, moving my feet automatically as everything screamed at me to keep going.

But my vision tunneled. I managed to stagger right, lurching against a shop front.

The awful sound of my phone hitting the pavement and smashing echoed through me.

The wall offered some stability, but my knees wobbled.

I pitched against the store, feeling my T-shirt catch against the uneven surface.

I heard the rip of material, and then the ground rose up.

My arm and back throbbed from where I landed, but the pain faded as a tingle moved through me.

I tried to move my arm, willing it to reach out and find my phone, but I couldn’t move.

Panic flashed through me, and my breath shallowed.

My head swam, and a prickling feeling moved through me, mingling with stars across my vision.

But the starbursts diminished, and blackness engulfed them.

As I drifted back to consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the dull throbbing in my head and the stiffness in my limbs.

My eyelids felt heavy as I tried to crack them open.

Gradually, I blinked, clearing my vision.

My brain felt sluggish, and I thought I’d fallen asleep on the couch, but then I caught sight of the gray walls.

My apartment was painted an airy white. My throat went dry, and dread pitched through me.

A flash of walking home skittered through my mind, and I had the sense that I was falling…

again. I remembered the pain ricocheting through me as I landed on the sidewalk after the pain at my waist. Instinctively, my hand shot to my waistline, feeling around the skin below my T-shirt, but I didn’t feel any wound.

My breath caught in my chest as the reality of my situation took root. Panic surged through me as I realized I had no memory of how I’d ended up here.

Leaning on my elbows, my gaze darted around the small, grimy space.

The only source of light emanated from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

My hands balled into fists as I squeezed the scratchy blanket beneath me.

I took in the metal cot and mattress I lay on. Sickness stirred through my stomach.

A glass wall lay ahead of me, and a closed door beside it. My heart hammered. It was like an observation chamber, I realized. A wave of nausea coated the back of my throat. Was someone watching me?

I traced the confines of the room. In the beam of light, my attention went to the far side of the room.

I blinked in astonishment. In the shadows, sitting still, was a dog.

His glossy brown coat glinted in the low light.

I kept as still as I could, taking in the metal collar around his neck.

There was no chain, though. He must be a guard dog.

I carefully pushed myself back on my elbows, drawing myself into a sitting position against the wall.

I winced as pain shot through my body. As I observed the dog, my gaze darted over him, taking in his size and poise.

In a split second, my mind knew he was way too big to be a dog. There was something wilder about him.

My heart thudded against my rib cage. His stillness was the calm of a predator. Motionlessness rippled through every inch of his body, but his dark eyes stalked me. Those bright eyes told me the wolf was taking in every one of my movements.

Then… he stirred. His flews pulled back to reveal glistening white fangs, his ears drew back against his skull, and a ferocious growl rumbled from him.