Grey Zone Read Online Free PDF Page A

to a cloud of steam. ‘Probably desperate for someone to play with her.’
    â€˜Guilty as charged.’ Dulcie scooped the kitten up and held her, looking in her eyes. ‘Now, what would Mr Grey say about biting like that, kitty?’
    â€˜He’d probably say that some animals are born hunters.’ Suze reached for the box of spaghetti. ‘And the rest of us ought to watch out.’
    Once again, the night was stormy. The wind, wicked, whipped through the trees and slashed its way through the dark mountain gulleys. Dulcie, waking in her upstairs bedroom, wondered for a moment at the ferocity of that wind – and of the steep mountain pass, funneling its force upward. A tempest was brewing: something so big that it threatened to shake her castle keep.
    â€˜ There are forces at work. ’ She sensed the voice, rather than heard it, and imagined herself looking out a window, down into the stony dark below. ‘ Forces that buffet us, that shape us through their pressure. Forces that we respond to – for better or for ill. ’
    â€˜I’m dreaming,’ she muttered to herself, before flipping over.
    â€˜ Yes, little one. Yes, you are. ’
    â€˜Mr Grey?’ Suddenly the wild weather seemed less threatening, and she remembered those glowing eyes, emerging from the sparks. But when she reached out blindly, hoping to find the large longhair, all she felt were little paws, grabbing at her hand as if to play. ‘Oh, Esmé.’ She pulled her hand away and faded back to sleep.
    â€˜So there are forces at work?’ Suze was gone by the time Dulcie awoke, and so she called Chris as she made her way into the Square. ‘Do you think that means anything?’
    He sounded a little loopy, as he often did at this hour. While Dulcie knew the large travel mug of caffeine she carried would solve most of her mental problems, her nocturnal beau probably needed a good eight hours of sleep before he could do more than just parrot back her words.
    â€˜Some kind of malevolent forces.’ Dulcie took a sip. ‘Though, I don’t know. Mr Grey said something about “shaping,” and that makes me think of teaching. You know, we shape young minds and all?’
    â€˜Mr Grey?’
    Damn, she hadn’t realized she’d mentioned her dream’s feline narrator. It wasn’t that Chris didn’t believe, exactly. It was more that he thought the enigmatic ghost was some manifestation of Dulcie’s consciousness, of her desire for her lost pet. Sometimes, Dulcie thought he might be right. But when she heard his voice so clearly . . .
    â€˜You heard his voice again?’
    Had she said that aloud? ‘Yeah, Chris, I did.’ They’d been together for long enough; there was no need to lie to him. If he was going to drop her for being loopy, well, he’d probably have done that already.
    â€˜Dulce, you do know that you don’t actually know what Mr Grey’s voice would sound like.’ His voice was soft; he would always be a gentle man – but he couldn’t help being rational. ‘I mean, beyond “meow” or something.’
    â€˜Forget it, Chris.’ She did not need to have this conversation now. Not when she was late for a departmental meeting. Martin Thorpe, the acting chair, did not tolerate latecomers, and the quiet little man had a dozen ways of needling the tardy. ‘I was just wondering about the message. I mean, am I stirring up trouble?’
    â€˜I thought you liked your students this semester?’ She could hear him yawn and felt a twinge of guilt. He’d probably only just gotten home when she’d called him.
    â€˜I do, but maybe breaking up that fight last night—’
    â€˜What?’ Her boyfriend was awake now. ‘You didn’t tell me about a fight.’
    Hadn’t she? With a sigh, Dulcie gave him a quick recap. ‘So, I didn’t really get involved. I just