One Night Gone (ARC) by Tara Laskowski

Author:Tara Laskowski [Laskowski, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488053672
Publisher: HARLEQUIN - Graydon House Books (U.S.
Published: 2019-07-17T17:28:27+00:00

21

ALLISON

It was the middle of the night, dark and hot. I was sweating, radiating an earthy, mildew smell like the basement. Had I forgotten to turn down the heat? My head felt drained, dried out, my skin taut. I was thirsty—when was the last time I’d had any water? I turned on the bathroom light, fumbling for the sink handles.

It wasn’t my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was Maureen. Maureen, with a long, braided scarf trailing down her back. Her hair was in motion, like she was underwater, like she was swimming in my bathroom mirror, and as I watched, her mouth opened and out came thousands of tiny bubbles.

Mermaids for sale. She giggled.

She lifted an arm and removed her scarf. As it came off the top of her head, so did her hair and her scalp. Oops, she said, as the mirror got redder and redder.

I woke up, gasping. My legs kicked out under the blankets and Catarina leaped off the bed, annoyed at being disturbed. “I’m sorry.” I pressed my hand to my heart.

The bathroom door was cracked, the nightlight inside creating a soft glow along its edges. No way was I going in there now, not after that dream.

In the hallway, Catarina let out a loud howl. I called for her, but she howled again, a strange, terrible sound that forced me out of bed. When she saw me, she jumped again and ran down the stairs.

“Catarina? Come back, you daft cat. What’s wrong?” I followed her downstairs, worried that she’d hurt herself. Or maybe something had gotten into the house. Oh god, I thought. What if a mouse was in here? How the hell would I deal with that?

I heard her again down in the basement. A low growling, and then a mewing cry. Something was freaking her out. “Kitty?” I stepped down the basement stairs carefully, my heart pounding. If it was a mouse, I might just sleep in the car until morning.

The smell felt all the stronger in the darkness of the basement. I could see the cat digging furiously at the carpet in the corner. I turned on the light, hoping to startle whatever it was she was after, but nothing moved. Catarina kept kneading at the carpet, making an odd mewing sound, rubbing her head against the floor like she’d just found an amazing pile of catnip.

“What are you doing, you silly cat?” As I got closer, she stopped and walked off. I knelt down where she’d been. There was nothing there.

I stood up too fast, and my balance shifted. Everything in the room was spinning like I’d had too many rum and Cokes. I focused on the Ferris wheel painting in front of me. The Ferris wheel turned, like the carnival had opened up for the evening. The words behind the wheel were moving, too—not shifting around but pulsating in and out. I could hear the roar of the crowd. Smell popcorn, the spun sugar of cotton candy. I closed my eyes hard, blinked a few times, resisted the urge to shake my head fast.

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