Read Homecoming (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller #1) Page 4


  ***

  Ben Rollins was bored. Sometimes when Ben was bored, he drank. Other times, he hopped into his ’87 Camaro and went for a drive. He was currently doing both simultaneously, though he was only two beers into the drinking side of it. But that was all right. The sun was just starting to sink behind the mountains, and he had all night.

  He was currently heading down Duncan Road, and there were two reasons for this: since he was drinking and driving, it was prudent to avoid the four-lane highway and stick to the more deserted back roads, and Duncan Road was chock full of curves, which his car handled expertly as he sped along.

  An eighties metal band blared from the stereo system, which had cost roughly twice what the car had. The car was equipped with t-tops (the actual tops having long since disappeared) and Ben’s long, blonde hair blew in the wind as he drove. He’d thought recently about having it cut—most of the guys he knew wore their hair short or completely shaved nowadays—but Connie liked it, and he wasn’t quite tired of getting into her pants yet. Not that he was really serious or anything, though he suspected she was; she’d been dropping little hints here and there lately. But Ben Rollins was no woman’s property, and sooner or later Connie would figure that out. Then she could either get used to the idea or take a hike. It really didn’t matter much to Ben either way.

  He hadn’t passed another vehicle for quite some time, and he was beginning to get a little bolder with the curves. There hadn’t been any rain for days, so there wasn’t any danger of rounding a turn and finding a puddle of water in the road. Nor was there a likelihood of encountering the law this far out in the boonies. That was a good thing, because he was currently all out of favors from Sheriff Lyle.

  Up until a month ago, Ben had held a job with the town’s public works department. The job had been hard work with lousy pay, but it did offer a few fringe benefits, one of which being that Lyle and his cronies tended to look the other way as far as town employees were concerned. Up to a point, of course. You couldn’t go out and kill somebody, but you could get away with a little drinking and driving, as long as you weren’t too far over the limit. But Ben had shown up late for work one time too many, and that had been the end of that.

  He finished his beer and threw the dead soldier out of the car and into the ditch. It shattered as it hit. He bent down to fish a fresh brew from the carton in the floorboard, uncapped it, and when he looked back up he saw the girl standing in the road.

  With a curse, he locked the brakes and went into a skid. A lesser man would have surely crashed right then and there, but Ben could handle his car, and he managed to pull out of the skid without overcorrecting. He missed the girl with inches to spare and squealed to a stop a hundred feet or so down the road. Wide-eyed and breathing heavily, he looked down and saw that he hadn’t spilled his beer. Thank God for small miracles.

  Ben looked back at the girl. As far as he could tell, she had never even moved. But that wasn’t the strangest thing. The light was getting dim, but Ben could swear that she was completely naked.

  He put the car in reverse and eased back to where the girl stood. His eyes had not been deceiving him; she was a bare as the day she’d been born. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, though it was really hard to tell with girls these days. Her long, blonde hair was mussed up and hid most of her face. Of course, Ben wasn’t exactly looking at her face. She was thin, but built like the proverbial brick shithouse, and he felt himself become aroused despite the near miss he’d just had.

  “Hey,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  The girl said nothing, and did not turn to look at him.

  “What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the road, with no clothes? Jesus, I damn near ran you over!”

  She turned then, and he saw that she was beautiful. Not good-looking, like Connie, or even really hot, like Dana Riley, but beautiful, like a model or movie star. He didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t surprise him. She was probably nine or ten years younger than he was, and he didn’t run with a younger crowd.

  She smiled. It was a lopsided, goofy smile, and her eyes seemed unfocused. It dawned on Ben that the girl was high on something. Of course she was; why else would she be standing in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere, and buff naked to boot? Pills, probably. Ben himself did not snort anything, though he wasn’t against the occasional joint. But he had seen plenty of people doped up, and this chick looked like she was trying to become their poster girl. It was sad, because she really was ultra-hot.

  “Get in,” he said. “I’ll take you home. Or wherever.” The thought of driving the girl to her parent’s house in her present condition did not appeal to him. Most likely, he’d get shot before he could get out of their driveway.

  The girl made no attempt to move, just stood there looking at Ben with that silly smile on her face. He couldn’t leave her out here, but he couldn’t take her home, either. Not yet, not until she came down off whatever mountain top she was presently on. The obvious answer was to take her back to his place. She could sober up there, and he could find something for her to wear from the stuff Connie had left lying around. Plus, he might get lucky if he played his cards right.

  “Come on, hop in. I’ll get you into some clothes.” He gave her a sly wink. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

  Her eyes focused somewhat, and her goofy smile transformed into a seductive pout. She stepped close enough to lean inside the car, putting her full breasts within inches of Ben’s face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a perfect pair, and he was suddenly obsessed with getting the girl back to his house.

  She brushed her unruly hair away from her face. Ben tore his attention away from her boobs long enough to see that she had pale blue eyes and soft features. Her lips were full and dark, begging to be kissed. He suddenly realized he had never felt such desire for a woman before, and the feeling frightened him.

  “You won’t bite?” she asked. Her voice startled him into jumping, even though she spoke softly, almost a whisper. Her words seemed to have a hypnotic effect. He felt as if he were being suffocated by pleasure and lust.

  “No,” he managed. “I won’t. Promise.”

  She smiled, her face a portrait of sexuality. But was there something else there, as well? A cruelty, lurking just below the surface? And maybe hunger, too? She leaned closer and put her mouth to his ear. He could feel her breath, hot and sultry. Her tongue brushed lightly against his neck, and he nearly melted with desire.

  “I bite,” she whispered with a flirtatious laugh. “We all bite out here.”

  “You do?” In some back corner of his brain, alarms were going off, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Uh-huh.” Her voice was so freaking sexy. He needed air in a bad way, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

  The car shuddered slightly, like something had crawled onto the trunk. Then another something. The rational part of him, what was left of it, wanted to turn and look, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the girl. He felt like he was going to explode at any second. More and more small bodies climbed onto the vehicle, and he could actually feel the car begin to squat from the added weight. But still he could not look away from her. His lust held him immobilized, aware but uncaring about anything but her.

  “Do you want me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he breathed.

  “Forever?”

  “Oh God, yes.”

  She held his eyes with hers; those pale, sexy, evil eyes. He saw a red droplet appear on her cheek, then another. He didn’t understand at first, but then the pain suddenly hit him, hot as fire, and he felt his attackers upon him, biting and clawing and forcing him down. Still he could not tear his gaze away, even as his flesh was ripped and his blood sprayed onto the car’s upholstery. He continued to stare at her after the life faded from his eyes.

  Ben died without ever seeing what had killed him.