Depths: Southern Watch #2 by Robert J. Crane Read Free Book Online Page B

at the windows was just background noise, and a peal of thunder crackled in the distance. The place smelled faintly of her perfume, but it was lingering and not fresh, a ghostly reminder of her getting-ready-for-work routine.
    “Hey,” he said as he entered the room. His khaki uniform was spotted with water and was starting to chill him in the cooler indoor air. The air conditioner, a small wall-mounted unit hung high on the wall, was humming faintly in the background,.
    “Hey,” she returned, but the word was as lifeless and motionless as the woman herself. Alison’s blond hair hung limp and wet, and he noticed she wore a bathrobe as he came into the room. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and got not even a trace of a smile in return.
    “How was work?” He laid a hand on the side of her neck, running his dark fingers down her tanned skin. He could see little goosebumps as he did it, pulling back the edge of the robe.
    She adjusted herself on the sofa, pulling the neck of the white terrycloth robe tight. “Fine.” She didn’t sound angry or resentful, just flat.
    He pulled his hand back to rest on the back of the sofa. She didn’t turn to face him, just kept staring ahead. This was how it had been since the attack, since the demons had smashed into their apartment. She still had the barest discoloration on her neck where one of them had held her by the throat. He wanted to touch it, to touch her, but she always seemed to shift away.
    “Going to bed?” Arch asked. He could feel the pull of the bed, the barely conscious realization that he had an early shift tomorrow. It was probably not going to be a very busy day, if tradition held. He hadn’t really had a busy day yet, save for the ones where he was fighting demons after work.
    And he and Hendricks had just killed the ones they’d gotten a lead on. It was all listening to rumors about strange out-of-towners so far, but it’d paid off a couple times. Arch enjoyed the scrapes, really, though he didn’t necessarily want to admit it to anyone, least of all himself. He could feel it, though, the glow that came from knowing he’d punched the ticket of something really bad earlier in the night.
    He stared down at his wife’s exposed neck, wanting to let his fingers drift lower. The terrycloth robe was closed tight, though. He shrugged, though she didn’t see him, and turned away to undress in the bathroom so he could hang his uniform up to dry.
    Alison remained behind and made not a sound as he left. He felt the chill as he undressed and wondered if it was just the air conditioning unit fighting against the humid Tennessee summer, or if it was the wife who hadn’t said more than a few words to him in a week that was causing him to shiver.

 
     
Chapter 4
     
    If it was possible, Hendricks awoke feeling even shittier than he had when he went to sleep. His right eye was swollen shut, his ribs hurt like someone had kicked him while he was down, and his lips felt like they’d been transformed into Polish sausages filled with flaming, screaming nerve endings. He moaned and rolled over, forgetting that someone was in the bed with him.
    His one good eye caught sight of Erin lying there next to him, her short-cropped blond hair more than a little tousled from the night of sleep. She was looking at him kind of pityingly, like she was uncomfortable with him being there or with the way he looked, or maybe even both.
    “Good morning,” he mumbled through his swollen lips. It came out more than a little twisted, and he wondered for a beat if it was even comprehensible.
    “You look like holy hell, Hendricks,” she said. She reached a tentative hand across the white sheets, and Hendricks caught a whiff of the flowery scent she wore on her wrist as she touched his forehead. Her thumb traced a delicate path around his eye, causing the pain to flare even so. “What were you thinking?”
    “I’m asking myself that very same question this morning,” Hendricks said and