The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 371) Not So Fast
Lyla does not know which man to trust or which one is the true Crispin. However, now she notices something different in the man who is holding the other down. The swirling in his eyes has stopped as he watches her, focuses on her, almost pleading. Without warning, he is lifted into the air as if by an invisible force, and then slams down on the floor across the room. Now the man he was fighting stands up, wipes his hands off on his pants and immediately turns, quickly heading in Lyla’s direction. Unsure of what she has witnessed and of whom she can believe, Lyla begins to back up then makes a run for the ladder. Just as she places her hand on the rail, she feels his hand on her arm. His fingers are digging into her skin like knives as pain shoots through her muscles.
“Not so fast,” says a voice she recognizes but not as Crispin. She turns and sees the older man who bumped into her table in Madrid and she now remembers him as Quinn. This is the same man who cooked dinner for her and Crispin all those many months ago at the cottage.
“Wha. . . what?” she questions as she stares at him in disbelief. Looking over his shoulder, she sees Crispin lying on the floor, motionless. Stunned, she is void of what to say or how she should react as she looks into Quinn’s menacing eyes. A numb feeling comes over her and once again, she glances over Quinn’s shoulder. This time Crispin is gone.
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