First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) by D.L. Carter Read Free Book Online Page B

rescuer to feed her milk one sip at a time.
    “Did you trip?” asked the man with the cup. Amber caught a brief glimpse of worn-at-the-heels cowboy boots hidden under his work casual trousers as he shifted into a better position to feed her the cold milk. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your forehead.”
    “I’m fine, truly,” muttered Amber, trying to paste a smile on her face and struggling to focus on the bobbing name tag on his shirt. “Ah, you’re the manager. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue.”
    “Thanks. That was the only worry on my mind.”
    His wide mouth twisted in a wry smile, and Amber blinked. Now that her vision was clearing he seemed younger than her first guess. With the generous sprinkling of grey in his hair and pale skin she’d first pegged him at mid-forties – maybe older. A closer guess was thirty-something with the beginning of smile lines and intelligent blue eyes.
    Tired blue eyes.
    He reached out to lift her hair back off her bruise, brushing his fingertips over her forehead. Again her strength fled. She tried to scream, but could no longer command her lungs. Her spirit shifted, half pulled from her body.
    She stared up at a half-light world. Bright, glowing stars shone in a sky of opalescent grey. She wasn’t sure where the knowledge came from, but if she concentrated she knew that she would be able to fly to the furthest edge of the universe. There was life out there. Everywhere. She could see it, feel it. There was power and beauty and …
    Her soul shivered, clutched around her immobile body. There was something out there with her.
    Something hungry.
    Hungry and needy and pumping pain out into the void.
    She spun helplessly, seeking an escape, a home. The town of Laurenville and the bookstore passed before her eyes, throbbing around her, barely visible under the weight of a huge, black gulping mass that sat like a broody hen over the bookstore. She could feel, see her life being drawn down the masses of tendrils reaching, clutching at her. Amber reached desperately at her own life cord, a bright silver light joining her spirit to her body and dragged herself back together. She screamed as spirit and body reunited, arching back and falling free of the manager’s light touch. Pins and needles as big as swords dipped in fire stabbed her flesh from every direction. Her arms and legs cramped and spasmed. Every bruise, broken bone, cold, fever, and childhood injury she ever had received in her life lined up to yell and welcome her back to her body.
    “She’s having a seizure,” shouted someone, as the cup of milk flew spinning across the floor. “Put something in her mouth.”
    “They don’t do that anymore,” cried someone closer, just as the ambulance crew charged in the door and Amber lost her fight against the encroaching darkness.
    Some unknown time later Amber blinked and tried to raise her hand to rub her crusted eyes. Plastic tubing whipped around slapping against her face. Her hand fell back to the bed and she lay gasping, too weak to try again.
    “Hey,” said Smoke, rising from the chair beside the bed.
    “Hey, yourself,” Amber whispered and coughed to clear her achingly dry throat. She pushed her heels against the bed without accomplishing anything. Smoke took pity on her and used the bed remote to raise the head of the bed. Once she was a little more upright she examined the room. Not a bookstore. There was one hotel quality art print in a cheap frame right in front of her bed, easy wash wallpaper and gleaming, mysterious taps and tubing arranged around the room. A mini computer screen above her head showed the familiar EKG waveform. “Hospital?”
    “Hospital. You passed out, Amber. Slept through an ambulance ride, MRI, X-rays, and visits from some pretty nice nurses, or some nice, pretty nurses. Your choice.” Reading the question in Amber’s eyes he continued. “You’ve been out six hours.”
    “Well, damn,” whispered Amber.
    “Karl Benn, the