Excerpt:

Archer couldn't see her. She stepped back again toward the lights, and a man stood in front of her, black in the blackness. Her movement illuminated him like a strobe light. The skin was picking up echoes of her own footsteps and feeding sonograms back to her. The man stood head and shoulders over her. He had a round jaw and flat-bridged nose.

Emma took a breath to speak, then ducked as she sensed his hand near her face. Her motion threw back echoes, and she "saw" more bodies in the blackness unfolding from ceiling and walls.

"Don't be afraid," the man said. "We would never hurt you." He reached for her again, and Emma threw up a hand between them.

The other symbionts were coming behind him now.

"Don't touch me," she whispered.

"It's all right," he said. His fingers brushed Emma's.

It burned into her like a lover's touch. She was opening her mouth as for a kiss. His fingers slid between hers--skin gliding against skin like velvet. She stumbled toward him, felt the skin on his chest lap over her other hand. She couldn't see where her skin stopped and his began.

She felt her touch on his chest, felt their hands mingling. His free hand cupped her head. Emma sagged against him, unable to stand alone. She didn't want to do this. She wanted to get away. She struggled, but her skin betrayed her, clinging to him, tingling with pleasure, telling her to give in.

He bent over her, murmuring, "Don't be afraid. I wouldn't hurt you."

She heard him through the skin. He sounded like a storm rumbling on the horizon, boiling across the sky, shutting out light and stars. There was something wrong. She didn't want that seething blackness to cover her. She'd smother under it. Panic finally shattered her lethargy, "Archer, help me."

"Emma?"

He was too far away, and he didn't know where to find her. The storm would shut her in before he came. A sensation of oily tentacles creeping into her mind made her shudder and cry out. Her loathing finally reached her skin. It rippled all over Emma's body, then hardened into armor across her back.

Jackson held her tighter. "Don't run away. You don't understand yet."

Emma relaxed her knees and twisted out of his grip. The skin tore between her fingers as she pulled her right hand free. She sprawled on the ground, clutching her injured hand to her chest.

Jackson took a step toward her with his palms out in a pleading gesture. The other symbionts advanced behind him.

Emma spider-walked backwards in a hurried scramble. She couldn't let him touch her again. "Archer."

The lights were coming closer. Jackson stopped where the shadows still hid him from view. "You don't understand. We wouldn't hurt you. We don't want to hurt anyone."

Archer was calling for her. "Emma, where are you? What's wrong?"

Jackson was already folding back into the darkness. "We'll find you again, Emma. You'll understand."

Author BIO:

Melissa McCann holds a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from Eastern Washington University. She lives on Vashon Island in Washington State where she writes a humor/advice column for the local bi-weekly journal.

Her husband Doug is a mild-mannered computer programmer by day and a musician and recording engineer by night. Her stepson Adrian is an apprentice sorcerer.

Melissa has done some teaching and some acting. Presently, when not writing, she gardens, paints, bicycles, cooks enthusiastically if not always well and keeps a veritable petting zoo of small livestock.