I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the thing that is wearing Sam’s face. Even as I watch the skin that stretches too tight across his cheek bones ripples and bulges, as if it doesn’t quite fit. “You’re not Sam.”He leers openly, his lips drawing back to reveal even white teeth. Sam’s teeth, but not Sam’s teeth. Sam’s mouth, but not Sam’s mouth. Sam’s voice, but not Sam’s voice. “I am now, sweetheart,” he says. Bile rises in the back of my throat. I swallow it down and gag on the taste. Francesca is at my side in an instant, gripping my arm, holding me upright. Her eyes flash with ill disguised revulsion as she glares at the Unknown that has taken over Sam’s body. “Craven.” She snarls his name like it is the foulest word imaginable. Which it is.“Yes,” he says. “You’ve caught me. Long time no see, sweet thing.” He reaches for her face and she spits at him.My first instinct as I watch saliva drip down Sam’s cheek is to yell at Francesca.
