It Begins Read Online Free Page B

familiar way he’d so loved being looked at.
    But she didn’t move.
    And she didn’t say his name.
    The water and the mud were over her face, from the walls of the grave caving in, and if he hadn’t put her there himself, he’d never have known she was there at all, he’d have thought she was just a pathetic mound of soggy earth at the bottom of the yawning hole.
    He really was so amazingly clever.
    The old graveyard. A violent storm. No one in Pine Ridge would even consider venturing into this place tonight.
    So he’d thrown his arms wide to the rain, and his hair had blown wild in the wind, and he’d sucked in the darkness, until it filled him and sated him and consumed him and—
    And then that restlessness again.
    That vague, creeping uneasiness, gnawing in the pit of his soul.
    He’d actually felt a moment of doubt.
    And so he’d lowered himself into her grave.
    He’d knelt down beside her and wiped the mud from her face, and he’d studied her in death, all the while wondering about her final moments of life.
    She would have lingered awhile. Been aware of the warm blood pumping from her throat, leaking out between the torn chunks of her flesh, spurting with every heartbeat, then growing weaker … weaker … until it became merely a thin trickle, melting into the soggy earth.
    The thought made him smile.
    She was no threat to him now.
    She was dead, and he was free.
    And so he’d leaned over, oh so gently, and he’d put his mouth upon hers … cold lips together …
    And then he’d kissed her.
    One last time.

5
    God, it was freezing in here.
    It must be me
, Lucy thought, as she slid lower in the claw-footed tub, closing her eyes, trying to relax beneath the bubbles. The bathroom was large and luxurious just like the rest of the house, but even with central heating, and even with the water as hot as she could stand it, she couldn’t seem to get warm.
    What am I going to do?
    She could smell takeout pizza wafting up from the kitchen, and her stomach gave a queasy lurch. She could hear the muffled sound of the TV downstairs, and Angela’s rock music blaring from the next room. And though Aunt Irene was now en route to yet another very important meeting, Lucy could still picture that formidable frown waiting for them when sheand Angela had gotten home. Lucy had been relieved when Irene ordered her straight upstairs and into a hot bath. She hadn’t felt like explaining any more details about her evening.
    So what am I going to do?
    She felt drained and bone-tired. Like her whole body had gone comatose and her brain had fizzled out. The cemetery … the girl … the warning … everything seemed like a distant dream now, or something she’d seen in a horror movie. An out-of-body experience that had happened to someone else’s body …
    “Hey!” Angela banged on the door. “Don’t use up all the hot water!”
    It was almost too much effort to answer. Groaning, Lucy roused herself and called back, “I’m not.”
    “And don’t go to sleep and die in my bathtub.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
    “Dinner’s ready.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Don’t you like pizza?”
    “Not three nights in a row.”
    Gently she massaged her forehead. She could imagine Angela leaning against the other side ofthe door, filing her fingernails and admiring the shape of her hands. No wonder her cousin looked practically anorexic, she thought—there hadn’t been a single healthy or home-cooked meal in this kitchen since Lucy had been here.
    The music abruptly shut off.
    “If you die in there, you’ll bloat and be all wrinkled,” Angela informed her.
    Lucy sighed. She listened to Angela’s footsteps fading down the stairs, then she closed her eyes and drifted lower into the water.
    I have to do something.
    I have to tell somebody.
    She couldn’t call from here, that was certain. She didn’t have a cell phone, and it would be too risky trying to call the police from a phone inside the house—too easy to be