"Now, murderer, we can talk."

This did not bode well. Garrett had no inkling what to do next. He could run; that had been the plan. Some of his men were already underway for the door. But what about Grace? Did they leave him behind? Did they drag him along and sort it out later? Could they drag him even if they wanted to? Sergeant Grace was taken, possessed, occupied by the smoke monster towering before them. A tendril of its dark mist trailed from his back. He stood there like a puppet, leering like a madman, his hands twitching. He stared at Garrett without blinking.

What the devil should they do?

"You asked for an audience with Nightmare," Grace said, and drool slopped from his open mouth. "Your request is granted."

Okay, yeah. But this wasn...

Please subscribe to keep reading.