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Surviving an attack by a sadistic killer, news-reporter, McKayla Cain finds herself running from one dangerous man and turning to another for help. Homicide detective, Logan McKenzie doesn't trust McKayla. Now, she needs his protection, and he is left with no choice but to give it to her. As evidence of an ancient cajun spell surfaces, it soon becomes clear the notorious 'Rainy Day Killer' is much more than he seems and plans to use McKayla for a darker purpose than murder. While battling the love and passion erupting between them, Logan and McKayla discover how the past of their ancestors is directly linked to a madman's design for revenge that leads to a shattering showdown.As McKayla reached for the shampoo, the lights shut down without warning. An arctic wind so strong it took her breath slammed against her, biting into her flesh. She cried out, eyes darting frantically around in pitch-blackness. The wind disappeared and she heard the distinct sound of heavy, rapid breathing. She exhaled a sigh of relief upon realizing the sound came from her. You idiot. Yet, the uneasiness she felt refused to subside. She stood there shivering. A shaky hand reached for the shower knob somewhere against the wall behind her. Her hand gripped the knob. In a state of panic she fought to remember which direction turned it off. Get a grip. It’s to the right. Darkness swallowed her, and rampant fear threatened to seize what little common sense she had left as her hands slid across cool tiles in search of the towel she’d slung over the wall earlier. Finding it brought a small sense of comfort, and she wrapped it unsteadily around her body. Now she took a few steps beyond the shower stall. Soft moonlight drifted in through a single, tiny window placed a few feet below the cedar rafters. Sparse fragments of light offered a view of the path in front of her. A dark, bulky shadow on the ground to the left revealed the bench. To the right, she knew from memory were a series of metal lockers lined up against the wall. She remembered the few glow sticks in her gym bag sitting on the bench. Yet, the thought of treading down this dark passageway, alone to get to it nearly caused her to come unglued. With her heart racing, she imagined something ungodly waiting in one of those dark stalls she’d have to pass to get to her destination. Don’t think about it. Concentrate. Shadows swayed across the floor as the howling wind outside the window sent tree branches moving to and fro. Rain pelted against thin glass. She jumped, a terrified scream escaping her as a violent wind-gust sent branches and leaves crashing against the pane. Whack! Whack! Now she heard it, low and guttural. A rumbling growl issued out from somewhere in the dark. It turned her insides to jelly. Jesus! I’m imagining things. This can’t be happening. She knew on her arrival she’d locked the door behind her as usual, and checked every outlet to make certain they were locked. The location of the breaker box entered her thoughts next. She knew she’d spotted it several times before against the back wall of the gym’s main floor. Yet, her insides tightened with uneasiness at the thought of getting to it. She just knew a presence too awful to imagine hid in the darkness—something that planned to prevent her from ever walking out of here. The urge to scream her lungs out came over her. She stood there suppressing it for all it was worth. Think, damn you, think! This can’t be all. There’s got to be something I can do. Jesus Christ! Isn’t there? The can of mace. She remembered storing it in her gym bag for her protection. Why didn’t she think to carry it around with her at all times? How am I going to get to it? Judging by the shadowy location of the bench, it stood no more than thirty steps in front of her. It might as well be twenty miles away. If she moved she ran the risk of revealing her location to the growling thing hiding somewhere in the dark. She refused to think about it now. Her only chance to survive relied on getting to it, and doing it as quickly as possible. Trembling from head to toe, she took her first step, and waited in silence to see if the sound of her movements carried throughout the room. Not a sound stirred. Ten more steps and that terrifying growl cut through the darkness again. It sounded louder, longer, more menacing than before. For the love of God it seemed much closer to her. Insane, demented laughter rang out. It was the most disturbing sound she’d heard in all her life. Frightened beyond reason, she tore out across ceramic tiles, no longer caring if it gave away her location. She ran for the bench in full sprint, knowing she’d have very little time to snatch up her gym bag, if she managed to make it there at all. It took off after her, coming from the left of the room. It seemed as if each loud strike of its feet shook the walls surrounding her. She ran for her life, not thinking about the thing gaining on her from behind, even though she swore she felt its hot panting on the back of her neck. Her hand clutched the back of the bench and she fumbled around for the gym bag. Her fingers wrapped around it about the same time the floor under her feet shook from the creature’s heavy footfalls. Something struck the bench, and the bolted legs of it pitched forward with unbelievable force. Metal screws the size of broomstick handles screeched out in protest as they wrenched from the ground, bending at an awkward angle. The beast stood within reach of her. Fighting paralyzing fear, she snatched up the gym bag. She didn’t look back, only ran straight for the lockers against the far wall. An eerie silence fell over the room. In a tiny alcove in the dead center of a column of lockers, she huddled against the wall, clutching the can of mace for dear life. Beads of sweat popped out across her forehead. Tears stung her eyes and she wanted to give in to them, but she didn’t dare. Death waited, and if she let her emotions get the better of her it would be upon her quickly. She knew this thing was going to find her. When it did, she planned to strike out at it with the only weapon she had. The howling beast pounded on the locker doors now. With each hardy blow she imagined the incredible weight of its hand crushing in the metal doors like a soda can. Jesus, somebody help me! The intense banging stopped and her heart rate increased. The silence in the room petrified her. With her eyes now adjusting to the darkness of the room, she focused on a dark silhouette no more than seven feet in front of her. The towel rack stood there as if she could somehow summon it to grow legs and take up her defense against this beastly thing that hunted her. It’s going to find me, oh God. Something enormous in size drifted slowly past. Holding her breathe she watched in horror as it backtracked. It stood in front of her now, its frame so large it blocked out the backdrop of shadows behind it. Its face was hidden in the blinding shadows of the room. The thing smelled dead, like the carcass of a rotting animal. It laughed and she screamed bloody-murder. The sound rang out with such a shrill pitch she imagined it didn’t come from her at all. Snatching her around the throat, the beast instantly killed the terrified scream in less than a heartbeat. My God, I can’t breathe. Panic struck her like the force of a hundred-mile-an-hour head on collision. Her feet left the ground as the beast lifted her two feet in the air with one arm. The can of mace hit the floor with a loud clank.