Kelley heard the whispered murmurings of a hushed and hurried conversation. Sonny. And someone else. Then someone was shaking her gently, calling her name.
She blinked and struggled to sit up. A huge pair of hands grasping her shoulders helped, and she found herself staring up into the open, guileless face of a man maybe twenty years old with ginger-sandy hair and a nice smile.
“Hullo,” he said. “I’m Maddox. Friend of Sonny’s.”
“What are you doing here?” Kelley asked, deeply confused. What had happened? She must have hit her head when that thing…
“I was on my way to meet your man Sonny,” he said, squatting beside her. “I saw that stray dog attack you both and came running.”
“That was a…dog?”
“Bull mastiff by the look of it-big one-and rabid as a bat, most like. Nothing to worry about now, though. The proper authorities are on it, lass.” He stood and held out both hands to help her up. “Now c’mon, let’s get you out to the street and hail a cab. I’ll take you home.”
“Where’s Sonny?” Kelley thought she must have hit her head harder than she’d realized. Everything seemed fuzzy and confused.
Maddox laughed-a low, pleasant rumbling sound deep in his broad chest. “Off chasing the dog. He’ll keep an eye on it until the dogcatcher shows. Make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“What if it hurts him?” She glanced around a little wildly, a fluttering panic crowding up her throat.
“Now, now,” Maddox soothed. “Ol’ Sonn-he knows how to take care of himself. Don’t fret. Come on, lass. Here, let me help.”
Maddox tilted her face up so that he could stare directly into her eyes, and Kelley suddenly felt all of her questions and fears slip into the background.
Let me help you, Lady, she thought she heard him say, although she was fairly convinced his lips hadn’t moved.
“What did you call me?”
“Uh…you mean ‘lass’?” Maddox frowned in confusion.
“Never mind,” Kelley murmured. “He told me I shouldn’t be here now…”
“And so you shouldn’t, lass. The park is no place for a lady after nightfall. Come along now.”
Kelley felt herself slump against his side as Maddox put a muscled arm around her shoulders, and she let him lead her east along a well-lit path toward the edge of the park, where he hailed a taxi. Somehow she wasn’t surprised or worried when he climbed in as she was giving her address.
Just as she got out of the cab in front of her building, she remembered something and, leaning down to the half-open window, said, “He’s not my man.”
“Sorry?”
“Before-you said ‘your man Sonny’ to me.”
“Ah, right. An idiom, that. Figure of speech, lassie.” But as the cab pulled away, she thought she heard him say, “I hope.”
Inside the apartment, Kelley heard a whickered greeting from the bathroom.
“Hi, Lucky, I’m home,” she murmured. She still wasn’t sure if she had actually heard an exchange between Sonny and his friend in the park or if she’d dreamed it all up. Kelley ran a shaky hand over her face, trying to remember exactly what it was the big guy-Maddox?-had called the creature in the whispered conversation she’d overheard between him and Sonny. Not mastiff or dog like he’d told her. To Sonny he’d called it by another name. Black something.
Black…Shuck.
What the hell is a Black Shuck?
She went into her bedroom and flipped open her laptop. While she waited for it to boot up, Kelley opened the bathroom door to check on Lucky. The horse swiveled his ears in her direction, bobbing his head in greeting.
“Hi, pal.” Kelley couldn’t help but smile. She was really becoming quite fond of the wayward beast. She went to give him a scratch, but as she approached, Lucky suddenly arched his neck, and his eyes rolled until she could see white all the way around. He shuffled his feet in the soapy water, trying to back up in the bathtub even though there was no more room. Kelley jumped as the horse began making distressed, high-pitched noises and tossing his head violently. He flared his nostrils so wide she could see the network of veins stretching in the delicate skin, as if he scented danger.
Kelley sniffed hesitantly at her clothing. She couldn’t smell anything, but that didn’t mean Lucky couldn’t. Kelley supposed that the scent of the…whatever-she was content, for the moment, to keep referring to it as a dog-might have clung to her clothing.
She backed out of the bathroom, away from the agitated horse, and went back to her bedroom, stripping off her jacket, sweater, and jeans and exchanging them for a robe. She would have had a shower but, well, not really an option. Instead she went into the kitchen and scrubbed at her skin with the liquid soap there. It seemed to work-Lucky was a great deal calmer when she returned to the bathroom, shaking a fresh box of cereal.
Lucky sniffed at her, snorted a few times, and sneezed. Then he nuzzled around in her palm and ate the cereal, seemingly mollified by the scent of Spring Rain liquid soap on her hands. She couldn’t figure out exactly why the horse would eat nothing but frosted cereal. Nor why, when it did, what little went in…didn’t come out. The messy logistical difficulties of keeping a horse in the bathroom never seemed to materialize. Which was suitably mystifying and yet, Kelley supposed, good news-considering that their landlord would have them out on the street in a flash if Lucky’s presence was discovered.
Kelley might not have admitted it openly to herself, but she was starting to appreciate having Lucky around. There was something strangely soothing about the big animal’s presence. Something…familiar, almost. Her rational mind may have shied away from the notion, but especially in the wake of the frightening episode in the park, it was comforting to come home to the horse in her bathtub. Almost normal, even.
Having fed the horse, Kelley went back into her room and pulled up Google, entering the phrase “Black Shuck.” As she read, a cold dread filled her stomach. Beyond a sparse Wikipedia entry, one of the first Web sites that came up actually looked fairly scholarly-even though it was devoted to supernatural sightings and the paranormal.
Black Shuck: a spectral being, doglike in nature, big as a Shetland pony, with fiery red eyes and sharp, venomous talons. Shuck and their ilk, so-called demon dogs, have been known to roam the hills and moors of Continental Europe and, in particular, the British Isles for centuries. They travel swiftly, often without touching the ground, and are frequently considered harbingers of doom. In
Kelley switched on a lamp to dispel the shadows in the room. This is ridiculous, she thought, suddenly angry with herself. A horse in the bathtub was one thing, but “demon dogs”? That was just the same kind of silly “ghost story” superstition she’d fought to outgrow as a kid. Kelley closed her laptop and went to sit on the side of the bathtub for a while, breathing the comforting scent of her horsey companion, soothed by his steady breathing. Exhausted by the events of the afternoon and evening, by the strangeness of her encounter with Sonny-at least she could finally stop referring to him as Handsome Stranger-and the unfathomable animal attack, Kelley finally stood and tiredly bid Lucky good night.