Page 83 of Cruel Games

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Can you hear dogs?”

He tilted his head to the side. “No.” As the sound of barking got closer, his shoulders relaxed. “It’s probably the kennel master taking the bloodhounds out for a walk.”

Dread skittered down my spine and settled into the lining of my stomach. “I’ve never heard them from my room.”

He slipped on his pants and pulled up the zipper. “They’re in the main building. I’ll go out and check.”

“No!” I waved my arm. “Lock the door.”

Kendrick walked to the door and twisted the lock. He turned back to me and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?”

The sound of barking filled my ears and set my teeth on edge. Multiple claws clicked at the door, making my stomach want to expel its contents.

I tried to push away memories of being dangled over barking, snarling dogs, but there were so many, all I could do was curl up into a ball and hide.

THUD!

“Delilah Hancock, open the door!” barked a male voice.

Every ounce of blood drained from my face. He was here. And he’d brought the dogs to Scotland. Terror wrapped its claws around my neck and trapped my air.

“What’s going on?” Kendrick shouted.

THUD!

Through the panic, I thought I heard a battering ram.

“Open the door!” the voice shouted.

“Lilah?”

My head snapped up. If I didn’t climb out of the window, the dogs would kill me.

THUD!!

Before I could escape, the door flew open, and a horde of German Shepherds raced in the room. Shadowy figures followed behind them, but my eyes were on the giant dogs. One of them jumped on the bed, pinning me to the mattress with its front paws.

A scream tore from my lips. They would savage me to death!

“Stop!” yelled a male voice I didn’t recognize. “Down!”

The German shepherd barked into my face, its claws piercing through my thin sheet. I froze, staring into the creature’s amber eyes, my heart about to explode. Right then, my entire vision reduced to those terrible eyes and a set of teeth that could rip out my throat.

All around us, dogs scrambled about the room, filling my ears with their infernal barking.

One of the men in black pulled the German shepherd off my chest.

“Found something, sarge!” shouted a male voice.

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. These weren’t Billy Hancock’s people. “P-police?”

As the terror faded from my eyes, my gaze settled on about half-a-dozen dogs crowded around the open wardrobe. They sniffed at the large bag I took to Wank and wagged their tails as though they had found something.

The same number of police officers stood in my room, each wearing black armor, their faces obscured by dark helmets.

“What’s going on?” I shouted.