From downstairs, she heard a thud, followed by what sounded like a muffled grunt. She gritted her teeth. He daren’t wake the kids. It had taken all her wiles and half the night to convince little Oliver there were no three-eyed, boy-eating monsters living under his bed. Kayla hadn’t been much better, getting up at least once every hour to ask for a glass of water and a cuddle. Damn Warren. Didn’t he know by now children picked up on every vibe?
Another thud. Closer this time. She held her breath, listening. Footsteps. She rolled over, feigning sleep when she sensed his presence in the doorway. Her breathing didn’t falter.
A slight movement of air brushed across her face. She inhaled. Her breath caught, the sharp smell registering in the same instant the cold metal kissed her temple…