Night Angels (Beast & Beauty) Read Online Free Page A

least... His heart picked up a pace as he watched them slink about on their long legs. They had an even weirder look about them in the cold light of day. Almost a human resemblance, in some odd, inexplicable way. He stood stock still, staring in horrified fascination. They were sniffing the ground and scenting something out, he hoped and prayed it wasn't him, but he couldn't think what else it might be. They were closing in to the boot room, next door to the kitchen, where he'd entered the house the previous day. Martha whimpered again, sinking to the floor at his side, cowering and shaking noticeably. He stared in realisation as they all turned and looked his way. They'd heard her and they'd seen him. They began to head in his direction. He edged back from the window slowly, unsure of what to do.
    His father's hunting rifle...
    Not that he knew what to do with it, or even if it was loaded. But if he could take a shot at them, out of an upstairs window, maybe he could scare them off. He rushed out of the kitchen, across the hallway, and into his dad's study, with Martha close at heel. But the gun cabinet was locked. He couldn't find the key, and as his dad's desk drawer was also locked, he quickly gave up that idea.
    He was safe inside the house at least.
    Hopefully they'd get bored and go away soon, if he was out of sight. He'd go upstairs and take a peek out of the bedroom windows, to see where they were.
    But then he heard a noise, a collection of snarls and loud growling coming across the hallway towards him.
    Jesus and fuck... They were inside... How the hell did they get in?
    He shot over and slammed the door of the study closed and locked it, his heart pounding in fear. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. They paced and snarled outside, scratching and jumping up at the door of the study, roaring and growling. Then the weirdest thing happened. The door handle turned, again and again, rattling loudly. He grabbed it in panic, holding it still. An animal screech of anger filled the air. The pounding and scratching on the door continued. He closed his eyes and prayed he was dreaming this whole fucking thing. Adrenaline surged and his blood rushed through his veins and ears like a roaring wildfire. An almighty howl assailed his hearing, and a long rumbling growl ensued, coming through the gap at the bottom of the door. He'd never felt so terrified in his life. He prayed the small lock could withstand their assault, and braced his body against the door to reinforce its strength. For a long while after he stood like that and listened. Until he was absolutely sure he couldn't hear anything more. Arming himself with his dad's cricket bat, the only thing he could find, he bravely unlocked and opened the study door and popped his head out cautiously to survey the scene. A rush of cool air hit him. The front door was wide open. This was getting weirder by the minute. He edged out and shut the front door and then began a nervous tour of the rooms.
    His heartbeat was like a wild drum thumping in his chest as he crept around downstairs and then upstairs in the eerie silence. His family home had taken on a sinister feel. The tall ceilings, leaded windows, and old dark furniture harboured shadows and many places where things could hide. He tried to think logically and sensibly but his mind was shot to pieces. He was acting on instinct, survival instinct. After a lengthy check about the house, flashing all the lights on and checking everywhere he could think of, he was finally satisfied he was alone. He locked the back and front doors, bolting them firmly. He put the alarm on and tested it and it still worked. Standing in the hallway, he looked at the study door. Deep gouges were evident in the white paint, and long scratch marks covered its glossy surface. He had evidence now. He wasn't going crazy. They were real, and for some reason, it seemed, these animals wanted him. He revisited the kitchen, turned off the toaster, and