Terror Mansion (Decorah Security Series, Book #12): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novella by REBECCA YORK

Why not? Maybe it simply hadn’t registered. Or perhaps some details were different.
    Kate gripped his arm, and he gave her a reassuring look. “Follow my lead,” he whispered, hoping he wasn’t going to end up getting them both killed.
    With no choice which way to go, he advanced on the clown. When he was almost even with the image, he ducked down, pulling Kate with him. They both avoided a tongue of fire that shot from the huge orange lips.
    From somewhere above them, Treeman shouted, “Hey, what the hell?”
    Wyatt ignored him and kept walking, along a wooden ramp where the floor slanted down. Near the end, the angle changed suddenly, and he let himself stumble over a loose board—maybe in imitation of the stairs at the old carnival attraction. Hoping he looked like he’d tripped over the obstacle, he executed a controlled tumble onto a hard cement floor, keeping himself from getting injured and keeping Kate off the floor by letting her fall on top of him.
    She lay against his side, gripping his arm. He stayed where he was for a few moments, looking around, pretending to be hurt and disoriented. Ahead of them, the corridor went off in two different directions. In his dream, he knew that they had taken the right fork, and that they would come to a place where they’d have to get through a spinning wooden barrel that would knock them off their feet again.
    He didn’t know what the left fork held, but he figured it was better to go with what he knew. Still, he pretended to be debating, as he brought his lips to Kate’s ears. “There’s a barrel ahead. Watch out because there are knives sticking out from the interior.”
    She winced.
    He turned back to the ramp where they’d fallen and tugged at the three-foot-long board that had been meant to trip him. It came up easily. He held it at his side as he headed down the right-hand corridor.
    A grinding sound announced the presence of the barrel. It was turning slowly, and he pointed toward the knives sticking out at various points. Keeping Kate at his side he started through, pulling them past a set of knife points before they fell to the spinning surface.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “I’m getting dizzy.”
    “Yeah. But we have to make a run for it.” He gestured toward the end, where more blades poked out from between the staves. “You go on. I’ll block the knives.”
    Kate glanced at him, then started forward. He slapped the board against a sharp point so that she could slither past. She made it out okay, but the blade nicked his arm as he went past.
    They both landed on the floor, panting. When she saw the blood on his arm, she gasped.
    “Are you okay?”
    “It’s just a scratch,” he answered, giving himself a few moments to catch his breath.
    She looked at the cut, making a small sound as she saw blood drip to the floor.
    “We’ll take care of it when we get out of here,” he said.
    “Get going,” Treeman called from another speaker above them.
    Kate tipped her head up and gave him a murderous look. When she started to speak, Wyatt gripped her arm and shook his head.
    She closed her eyes for a moment then nodded.
    Wyatt hauled himself up, and Kate followed. He stared down the tunnel, trying to picture where they were. Ahead was a greased floor where you could fall and crack your head—or worse—if you were running.
    “Slippery ahead,” he whispered as he put one hand on the wall and gripped Kate’s arm with the other.
    They kept together. Still they both almost fell as they negotiated the slick patch. He looked down, noting the jagged pieces of glass on the floor.
    She followed his gaze and winced.
    They got through the grease and glass without getting cut, but Wyatt stopped short when he saw what was ahead.
    In his dream, he’d stopped being able to see the fun house threats, and now he knew why—the view was obscured by smoke. It wasn’t like the smoke that had billowed up from the trash can outside Kate’s workshop. It was more