Excerpt to Wicked Redemption:
Maggie cursed herself for the thousandth time. At least it felt like the thousandth time anyway.
Russ had gone away, had asked her to watch her attacker, and she had agreed.
She’d agreed for Christ’s sake!
She poured herself a glass of Zinfandel and ran her hand through her hair. Maybe she should call Barb.
A strange sense of dejevu came over her. She didn’t know why. This was really the first time she’d considered calling her in five years. Oh, she’d wanted to call, but that was different than considering. Considering meant you were thinking of carrying out something.
Barb had probably been the closest friend she’d ever had, but Maggie would under no circumstances contact her again. The last time she’d called Barb, it had been a year since the incident. Barb still carried on like nothing had happened. Barb still refused to believe that John Wood, the man she’d married, had been one of the entities that had bothered Maggie. Barb still insisted John was human and had always been so.
Barb couldn’t have any way of helping Maggie. She didn’t even remember what had happened.
What was it about entities and having amnesia?
Maggie stared out her living room window. Russ’s home was quiet, showing no sign of life. Russ had left for his conference over six hours ago. There was no sign of life there, not even a light on.
Maybe he’d died in there.
Let him.
Was it even possible for him to die?
Memories of his agony flashed back. In her line of work she was used to witnessing suffering, but she’d never seen an entity in pain before. Maybe it was more intense than human pain. But why the pain at all?
She didn’t understand where his pain was coming from. Was it because he was coming back to life? He couldn’t be, but he had a pulse. She’d felt it. It went against everything she’d been taught in nursing school. But she’d felt it.
It didn’t matter. He deserved to suffer after what he’d done to her.
She watched Russ’s house for a good fifteen minutes and saw nothing. If the entity was over there suffering and she didn’t do anything…even if he wasn’t human, to allow him to suffer would go against everything her medical schooling and experience stood for.
You shouldn’t have to do anything. He tried to kill you, remember?
But it was her mission to help people. That was why she became a nurse in the first place.
She finished her Zinfandel and reluctantly went next door. Russ had given her the key to the front and back doors. She cautiously unlocked the front and let herself in. All the drapes were shut, blocking out the light. Relief swept through her as she found the light switch. “Hello?”
No answer.
Nerves raised the hairs on the back of her neck. If he was playing tricks…
She suddenly realized she’d left her gun in her kitchen drawer. He was probably lurking in a corner, waiting for the right moment to kill her.
“Show yourself!”
Nothing.
She went to the den, then to the tiny glass-enclosed sunroom that overlooked the water. Through the glass, she saw him.
He was sitting in a lawn chair on the deck reading a copy of Russ’s latest crime novel.
Fear turned to anger as she saw him look up at her like Mister Innocent.
What kind of idiot forgets their gun? If she’s remembered it, she could have shot him just for scaring the crap out of her.
She tore open the back door, slammed it hard against the casing so that he jumped. “I called. Why didn’t you answer?” He stared back with those stupid deer-in-the-headlights look. God, he had beautiful eyes.
Russ had gone away, had asked her to watch her attacker, and she had agreed.
She’d agreed for Christ’s sake!
She poured herself a glass of Zinfandel and ran her hand through her hair. Maybe she should call Barb.
A strange sense of dejevu came over her. She didn’t know why. This was really the first time she’d considered calling her in five years. Oh, she’d wanted to call, but that was different than considering. Considering meant you were thinking of carrying out something.
Barb had probably been the closest friend she’d ever had, but Maggie would under no circumstances contact her again. The last time she’d called Barb, it had been a year since the incident. Barb still carried on like nothing had happened. Barb still refused to believe that John Wood, the man she’d married, had been one of the entities that had bothered Maggie. Barb still insisted John was human and had always been so.
Barb couldn’t have any way of helping Maggie. She didn’t even remember what had happened.
What was it about entities and having amnesia?
Maggie stared out her living room window. Russ’s home was quiet, showing no sign of life. Russ had left for his conference over six hours ago. There was no sign of life there, not even a light on.
Maybe he’d died in there.
Let him.
Was it even possible for him to die?
Memories of his agony flashed back. In her line of work she was used to witnessing suffering, but she’d never seen an entity in pain before. Maybe it was more intense than human pain. But why the pain at all?
She didn’t understand where his pain was coming from. Was it because he was coming back to life? He couldn’t be, but he had a pulse. She’d felt it. It went against everything she’d been taught in nursing school. But she’d felt it.
It didn’t matter. He deserved to suffer after what he’d done to her.
She watched Russ’s house for a good fifteen minutes and saw nothing. If the entity was over there suffering and she didn’t do anything…even if he wasn’t human, to allow him to suffer would go against everything her medical schooling and experience stood for.
You shouldn’t have to do anything. He tried to kill you, remember?
But it was her mission to help people. That was why she became a nurse in the first place.
She finished her Zinfandel and reluctantly went next door. Russ had given her the key to the front and back doors. She cautiously unlocked the front and let herself in. All the drapes were shut, blocking out the light. Relief swept through her as she found the light switch. “Hello?”
No answer.
Nerves raised the hairs on the back of her neck. If he was playing tricks…
She suddenly realized she’d left her gun in her kitchen drawer. He was probably lurking in a corner, waiting for the right moment to kill her.
“Show yourself!”
Nothing.
She went to the den, then to the tiny glass-enclosed sunroom that overlooked the water. Through the glass, she saw him.
He was sitting in a lawn chair on the deck reading a copy of Russ’s latest crime novel.
Fear turned to anger as she saw him look up at her like Mister Innocent.
What kind of idiot forgets their gun? If she’s remembered it, she could have shot him just for scaring the crap out of her.
She tore open the back door, slammed it hard against the casing so that he jumped. “I called. Why didn’t you answer?” He stared back with those stupid deer-in-the-headlights look. God, he had beautiful eyes.
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