“Okay, what do we know for sure? The Imps are connected to Mollusk Beach, they have at least four of the binding rings, Lucinda might be alive, and involved, and Paula is probably her daughter,” ticking items off on each finger, “what else?”
Lucinda paced the room, from stone wall to stone wall, periodically peering through the wavy glass covering the narrow windows, her footsteps muffled by the wall to wall Persian rug.
Hearing the lower door slam and the sound of someone running up the stone stairs she moved to stand in the centre of the room, face expressionless, shoulders back, the energy around her crackled with anticipation.
Seated in the back booth at Mulligans Tavern and Grill, surrounded by the low hum of conversation and mellow 80’s rock coming from the speakers, the mouth-watering scent of hot wings and fries in the air and drinks on the table.
The good news is that Mrs. Miller will be okay, antibiotics for the infection, rehydration and rest. They are concerned about her mental state, she’s been talking about shadows and demons cutting off her hand. And I can’t tell them she’s probably right.
Rose ran, flinging the door closed behind her and taking the stairs two at a time. Not bothering to lock the outside door she ran to the front street and her car, frantically trying to get the key in the lock and shrieking when a hand touched her shoulder.
Running through the long white hallway, dodging people and equipment, spotting Rose sitting outside a room.
“What happened, how is she?” panting slightly, “where’s the doctor?”
“She’ll be fine, they weren’t intending to kill her.