Hard Times (A Sam Harlan Novel Book 2) by Kevin Lee Swaim

Author:Kevin Lee Swaim [Swaim, Kevin Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Science, Literature, Supernatural, Fiction, Thrillers, Vampires, Fantasy, Thriller, &, Mystery, Urban, Paranormal
Publisher: Picadillo Publishing
Published: 2015-07-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The deputy parked his patrol car in front of the Glick house and I pulled in behind him. I concentrated, trying to shut out the stench of stale booze and flop sweat emanating from Davenport, who sat wedged between me and Callie. I couldn’t sense the vampire, so I flashed my lights to indicate it was safe for everyone to get out.

Mueller exited his patrol car, his hand near his holster, and quickly made his way to Lori Glick’s Taurus, where he rapped his knuckles against the window. Lori, Carrie, and Colden got out and spun back and forth, peering into the dark. Duane got out of his brown Ford F-150 and joined them.

I let Callie out first. She had returned the shotgun to the toolbox in the bed of the truck, but she held fast to her crucifix. Davenport followed, his hands locked on to his leather satchel. I exited, my hand near my Kimber just in case, and followed everyone to the dark opening where the front door had once stood.

Mueller turned to me and pointed to the doorframe. I nodded and stepped in front, then pulled out the Kimber and entered the house. I could make out the interior almost as well as if it were fully lit, just from the streetlight down the road, and realized just how much sharper my night vision had become.

The Glicks’ living room was a mess. The front door lay on the floor where it had fallen and the sharp smell of gunpowder still lingered. I shook my head and waved the rest of them in.

The Glicks entered and Duane Glick turned on the overhead light. They stared at the door on the floor, then at the remains of the front bay window.

Duane Glick shuddered. “Christ almighty. You’re telling me a … vampire … did this?”

I nodded. “Believe it.” I pointed to Mueller. “If Tommy hadn’t tried to plug it with Mary Kate’s thirty-eight, we might have lost someone.”

“For all the good it did,” the deputy muttered, staring through the remains of the front window to the darkness that lay beyond.

I turned to Davenport. He shuffled from foot to foot, his face red and sweaty. “Billy,” I said. “Do your thing.”

Davenport pulled his satchel tight against his side. “I tried to tell you. I don’t have it in me. It’s too close. Too thin.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I need you to look at these people. Look at them. They’re scared. I need you to do whatever it is you did at Jack’s house.”

Davenport’s eyes flickered to the Glicks, then back to me. “I want to—”

“Then try,” I urged. “What have you got to lose?”

“If only you knew,” Davenport said. He shuddered. “If only you knew.”

“Do it,” I said. “Whatever you can.”

He nodded slowly, then glanced down at the door resting on the floor. I grabbed it and yanked it up and immediately felt a stabbing in my side where my cracked ribs cried out for attention. I stood and slowly manhandled the door next to the door frame.

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