Page 32 of Malice

Hudson

Aster seems to flinch, then mutters under his breath.

“Who are you talking to?”

His eyes snap to mine. “Sorry. I get a lot of messages in my head. I’m still learning how to deal with them all.”

“My sister asked if you’re a medium.”

“That’s the best way to describe it.”

Aster nods absently, as if he can hear something I can’t, then he smiles.

“We could stay at my house until this is resolved. I can come back when you’re not here. It might be safer for you.”

I scoff. “I don’t know you. I’m not staying at your house. Besides, no one is chasing me from my own home.”

Aster nods, exhaling slowly. “Right. It’s just that?—”

His dog, a cute little ball of white fluff, growls at the ceiling, his tail stiff and alert. The air turns frosty again, and I’d swear the lights just flickered. Instinctively, I move closer to Aster.

“What’s happening?”

Aster’s eyes trace across the ceiling. “It’s attempting to move outside the kitchen. This Horror is very motivated. It’s learning quickly.”

“Is it… is it really Chester?”

Aster shifts his gaze to me as he frowns. “Yes. He escaped the underworld.”

“To get to me?”

Aster nods. “If you’re not comfortable staying with me, I think I should probably stay here, at least for a while. Until…” His brow creases as his words trail off.

“Until what? It kills me?”

“No.” His tone is urgent. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Do you have the ability to stop it?”

“Yes, but it’s not easy. You’ve seen what it can do and it’s not at full strength yet. You can’t even see it completely, but I can.”

“You can… see Chester?”

“I assume. Do you have a picture of him?”

“It’s in the article about what happened.”

Aster pulls his phone out of his pocket and types on the screen, pausing when he finds the article. I can see the headline out of the corner of my eye. “Local writer severely wounded in attempted murder/suicide case.” The constant knot of anxiety in my gut throbs as nausea washes over me again.

Aster’s face goes pale right in front of me. “That’s definitely him.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Fuck.”

“Are you scared of him?”

Aster’s expression shifts to determination. “No, and you don’t need to be either. I’m here to help.”

I have a million questions, like how did he find me, what is he actually, and does he really know how to fix this, but I’m too overcome by a strange sensation to ask anything. Aster tilts his head, and I see his lips moving, but can’t hear a single word. What the fuck. Am I having a stroke? A psychotic break?

Heat flashes through my body, and as I break out in a sweat, my breathing becomes shallow, and to my shock, my cock thickens. Oh god. What is this?

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