that night when Tim, her first—and last—college boyfriend, had coaxed her into that disastrous attempt at sex. She’d ended up missing classes for a week.
Never. Again.
She tried to ignore the stares of her fellow students. She knew her reputation as the “campus clean freak.” So what? She couldn’t comprehend how others wallowed in germs all the time. Didn’t they know eighty percent of infections spread through personal contact? Didn’t they know library desks had more than four hundred times the bacteria of a toilet?
As her thoughts circled back to bathrooms, her fear switched to fury, and she imagined several sensitive places where the janitor could go stick his toilet brush. How dare he treat her that way? He, above all people, should know the importance of sanitation, and yet he’d been the rudest, crudest human being she’d ever encountered. Even the smell of him lingered like a dog fart.
She gritted her teeth as she considered her options. The nearest women’s restroom sat on the far end of the building, and her full bladder might not survive the sprint—not to mention the warzone of contamination she’d be running through without protection. Use the guys’ restroom here? Women’s restrooms were bad enough. But her bladder made the situation clear. Relief first. Then damage control.
She turned to that door right as the librarian locked it and hung a sign on the knob. He didn’t meet her eyes as he mumbled, “Sorry. Closed for maintenance.”
She stopped just shy of grabbing him. Instead, she tore her headband off and threw it at the librarian, who ducked as it spun over his head.
“Are you kidding?” she asked through clenched teeth. “Come on. I just need, like, ten seconds.”
With a rueful shrug, he returned to his desk. Moments later he spoke in low tones on a handheld radio.
Dani raked fingers through her hair, silently cursing as she tugged a few snarls. This couldn’t be happening. How had things spiraled out of control so fast?
She forced her spine straight and made fists. No. She refused to let herself be bullied. She needed her gloves. Her gel and wipes. She couldn’t go anywhere without them. What was the janitor going to do? Have her arrested for retrieving personal property?
She glowered at the women’s room door. The thought of touching the handle set off mental sirens, but it’d be temporary exposure. Once she got her stuff back, everything would be okay. She could do this. She had to.
As she reached out, a screech echoed from within the restroom.
She paused. That didn’t sound like any kind of plunging or toilet-scrubbing. Her frown deepened. What was this geezer up to? A push opened the door an inch, but the janitor’s cart blocked anything more.
Screw this. With a wince, she lowered her shoulder and shoved.
O O O
Another growl shuddered up from the pipe, liquid and menacing. As Ben checked the cleansing ward he’d set up around the exit hole, someone thumped against the door.
“Keep your panties on,” he shouted. “Just a few more minutes.”
He whacked the pipe with the mop. Every strike sent sparks flying and a musical chime rang out. Each note melded with the others until the pipe and the wall around it vibrated with a pure tone.
Discordant howls rose in chorus to this. Ben tensed, waiting for his quarry to emerge. One hand went to the spray bottle.
The door burst open behind him. His cart skittered to one side and the redhead stumbled in, almost falling on her face.
Ben swore. “For Purity’s sake! I toldja to get lost.”
She glared at him with bright green eyes as the door swung shut behind her. “Keep your diaper on. I need my backpack.”
He moved to shove her back out. “Go! This ain’t—” A snarl warned him. He whirled and lashed out with the business end of the mop.
In that instant of spinning and striking, the beast lunged from the six-inch pipe opening. A dark form swelled to the size of a mastiff, looking like a mad scientist’s experiment in mating snakes and hounds. Muscled forelegs reached for Ben’s face with obsidian claws that dripped venom. Purple and blue scales covered the sinuous body. Fangs extended; nostrils and yellow eyes flared.
The mop connected. Bleach water sizzled against the creature’s skin as the impact redirected the beast past the girl’s legs. It smacked into the wall and tiles cracked.
The girl shrieked and jumped aside, knocking Ben’s cart over. Water sloshed everywhere.
The blot-hound scrabbled upright. After shaking like a wet dog, the beast opened its maw