Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

I rested my left hand on the bannister as I followed it
around, the only sound being the tinkling of the crystals on the
chandelier above as the draft seeped through the old house.
Carpets laid softly under my feet, and the grandfather clock
ahead of me and at the top of the stairs ticked steadily, the
small noise amplifying how eerily quiet the house was in the
middle of the night.
I would’ve heard him bark or growl or felt his sudden
movement in bed at least if something made him nervous,
right? He was always alert. No one was here now except my
mother, sister, and me.
Trailing down the stairs, I held onto the railing with both
hands as I took each step, and then I let go, walking carefully
to the front door. I checked all the locks, making sure they
were twisted into position.
And then I heard a little whine to my right.
“Mikhail?” I turned my head toward the sitting room.
Walking over, I took small steps and reached the rug,
feeling him rush up to me, his wet nose hitting my knee.
“Hey, where did you go?” I teased, reaching down to pet
him. “What…”
The scent of a cigarette hit me, and I trailed off, my face
falling.
My stomach sank, and I stood up straight, my chest rising
and falling, steady but quick.
He’d had my dog.
“Don’t touch him again,” I bit out.
“He came to me.”
Damon’s voice came from somewhere deep in the room,
and I guessed he was probably in the high-back cushioned
chair in the corner by the window. I pictured him sitting in the
dark, the only light the small embers from the tip of his
cigarette.
I reached down to take hold of Mikhail’s collar.