Grimm: The Killing Time by Tim Waggoner Read Free Book Online

Glock.
    The creature recovered quickly and lunged toward him again, hands outstretched once more. The impact of the coffee table had broken off several of her finger spines, but most remained intact. Nick had barely freed his gun from its holster when the creature hit him. It grabbed hold of his neck with both hands, and he felt piercing pain as the black spines sank into his flesh.
    The creature knocked him back onto the couch, and their momentum caused the entire thing to fall over backward. As they fell, Nick grabbed hold of the creature by the upper arm, raised his knee to its stomach, and as they rolled, he thrust it away from him. The creature flew through the air, and Nick grunted as the finger-spines tore free from his neck. The pain ebbed as soon as he felt it, though, as if the creature had injected him with some sort of anesthetic.
    The creature hit the far wall, bounced off, and landed face-first on the hardwood floor. Nick rolled to his feet, Glock still in hand, and as he spun around, he flicked off the safety and drew a bead on the creature.
    “Don’t move or I’ll…”
    A sudden wave of weariness washed over him, so intense that it was almost crippling. His weapon seemed to increase in weight until it was too heavy to hold. It slipped from his fingers and dropped to the floor. His legs could no longer support his body, and he fell onto his side, his head thudding against the wood. A not altogether unpleasant sensation of numbness spread throughout his body, and it became a struggle to keep his eyes open. He wanted to sleep so badly, just for a little bit, until he could get his strength back. He almost did, but at that moment the creature—which had lain still after hitting the floor—bucked violently, as if a high voltage current surged though its body. It flipped onto its back and with a single motion, rose to a sitting position.
    Can’t sleep
, Nick thought.
Have to… stop it.
    He got his hands beneath him and struggled to push himself up. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so weak before, but he kept at it, and he began to feel a measure of his strength return.
    The creature had been wearing what Nick presumed were Dana Webber’s clothes, but now the sweater and pants took on the same silvery color as its flesh. The clothes seemed to sink into the creature’s body, to merge with it, until it became a single smooth surface. There was no hint of gender to the form, and it no longer had separate fingers or toes. Spines still jutted from its hand, but they retracted now, and the creature turned its featureless face toward Nick. Despite the fact that it had no eyes, Nick had the sense that the creature was regarding him somehow. As he watched, features began to emerge from the silvery substance, but before it could resolve into an actual face, the creature looked away from him, stood, and started toward the door.
    It gripped the knob and tried to open it, but the door was locked. It tried the knob again, as if it had forgotten it had locked it earlier. As Nick rose to his feet, he saw the creature’s hands had grown fingers again, and its silver skin was changing color. Black hair emerged from its scalp, and it grew taller, its shoulder broadening. A jacket, shirt, jeans, and shoes formed—or at least the appearance of them. The creature’s back was to him, so Nick couldn’t see its face, assuming it had one yet. The creature finally remembered to unlock the door, then it opened it and stepped out into the night.
    Nick was feeling stronger by the second, and he quickly retrieved his Glock from where it had fallen and hurried out the door after the creature. He still felt a trifle lightheaded and unsteady on his feet, but the cold night air drove away the last of the weariness, and his mind felt sharp and alert once more. The puncture wounds on his neck stung like crazy now, but he didn’t bother to check to see if he was bleeding, and if so, how badly. He had work to do.
    As he ran onto the