by K. E. Radke
I speed up and hide in a doorway when Amelia glances behind her. She’s out of breath and suddenly stops. Faint noises of a fight and Jenissa’s scent drift to me.
Sweat and dread perforates the area. Rage overwhelms them both.
And blood.
But not the kind that satisfies my hunger.
Amelia bends at the waist to catch her breath and stares at something to her right. Slowly, she moves forward as if mesmerized and disappears between the buildings. There’s no point in following. She’ll be safe with the hunter and the shadow man.
Against my better judgement, I race forward anyway and peer beyond the corner.
She watches Rowan slash at air because Jenissa is moving too fast for her human eyes. The shadows lick at the edges of Jenissa’s body. Skin sizzles and she flings herself backward, right into the Boogeyman’s smoky tendrils.
It only takes a second for Jenissa to realize there’s someone new to play with.
She giggles maniacally. “Someone brought me dessert.”
They don’t fall for it.
A tiny flicker of light cuts the dark in half and the smell of burning cloth permeates the air. Howling in shock like he was roasted alive, the shadow man disappears. But not before Rowan stabs Jenissa in the chest with a wooden stake.
She whips her arm at Rowan, sending him into the brick wall, and stares at her pierced chest dumbfounded, too shocked to react when she doesn’t turn into a pile of melted flesh.
It didn’t penetrate her heart.
Jenissa’s wrathful gaze lands on the only person standing in her way.
Amelia.
A small gasp escapes Amelia’s lips.
Someone will save her. That’s what hunters do. They save humans from predators lurking under the moonlight. I find myself searching for her savior. Jenissa creeps forward with no one to stop her. The stake still wedged in her chest like a living nightmare.
Chapter 11
Amelia
S harp claws come straight at me. A savage, angular face is full of revenge for being cornered and attacked for reasons unknown to me. My mind adamantly tells me it’s not real. She needs help. There’s a giant stick wedged in her chest.
But the way she stares at me…those jet-black eyes filled with fury. I want to run. Go back the way I came and pretend I never saw a thing. But my feet are frozen. They decide my fate is better off if I don’t move.
Elongated teeth touch her bottom lip when she shrieks maliciously. Her fingers are sharpened to a point, ready to shred through me like a sharp knife. A beautiful, dangerous, white glow, ready to tear me apart. It doesn’t matter if I run. She’ll catch me.
A sickening wet noise keeps me from exhaling. A loud hiss of pure agony echoes between the buildings. The sound is deeper. And not from me. I know it’s not Rowan because it’s too close.
Arms wrap around me and we tumble to the ground, but the creature takes the brunt of the fall. Rolling over the pavement at dizzying speeds, I have no way to fight it off. Somehow we separate, and seconds later, I smash right into it. Another grunt of pain pierces my ears.
Too dizzy to pick a direction to fight in, I gaze up at the brick wall that stopped our momentum.
Run. You need to get up and run.
The body moves beside me, and the last person I expect it to be is Gabriel. A slight grimace on his face. He uses the brick wall to help him slowly rise to his knees. Glass and rocks are brushed off his bare arms as he peers down the alley.
“Gabriel?” I whisper, trembling.
Pain crosses his face when he reaches out and places a finger over my lips, signaling me to be quiet. I shut my eyes and a tear rolls down my cheek. Soft, cold fingers brush the hair away from my face, and I hear someone else moving.
Gabriel turns to go. To leave me in the dark by myself.
My hand grabs his wrist, and I plead silently with my eyes for him to stay. He gently pries my fingers away and before I can say a word, he puts a finger to his lips and lets the shadows devour him.
In a blink of an eye, he’s gone. I start to doubt Gabriel was here and scramble to a sitting position, curling my knees into my body. Pressing my back against the brick wall, I can’t move.
Where did he go? I want to bury my head under my arms and wake up from whatever this is. Whatever my head conjured up from all the caffeine I drank earlier. A caffeine hallucination. That’s a thing…right?
I should have listened to the creepy guy in black. He was right. Both hands are covering my mouth and I can’t stop the silent tears falling down my face. My entire body shaking with fear.
Chapter 12
Rowan
P ain crashes through me in a whirlwind of agony. My eyelids flutter, but can’t find the strength to stay open. Moving hurts, and my limbs twitch. Good, that means they’re still attached. Barely opening my eyes, I flinch backward at the gaping black hole in front of me. My heart slams against my chest as I automatically reach for my silver knife. The sheathe is empty.
The General leans back, fully dressed in his regular attire of unmatching black clothes. I exhale, listening to my pulse work double time. There’s a constant ringing in my ear and I scan the alley for vampire ash. The stake went into her chest, but she’s disappeared.
“She’s gone,” I growl in frustration.
“She will not get far with her injuries,” el Cucuy guarantees menacingly. “We are not alone.” The black hole for his face whips around to the entrance of the alley.
Guilt and anxiety smother the growing ire inside of me. Jittery nerves make me wonder if there are any residing visible effects from the possession. Holding out my hands in front of me, I flip them over like a naughty toddler about to be caught.
The only reason I allowed el Cucuy to possess me was to kill the leech. But she got away.
Expecting my brother any second, I whisper, “Let’s not mention the whole body invasion thing to my brother. He won’t like it.” An understatement.
Flexing my fingers, I remember the incredible power coursing through my veins. I felt invincible. A guy could get used to that. The torrent of pain it stripped from me for a short period of relief has me jonesing for another taste of it.
“I cannot lie to my master,” he says lowly in a secretive tone. “But I will not tell him if he does not ask.” It sounds like he doesn’t want Gage to find out either.
A silhouette appears at the opening to the alley, and I squint at the dark figure. Limping forward, I almost yell to scare them off, but el Cucuy materializes next to them.
It’s the first time I realize the General is holding his left arm close to his body.
“Holy hell,” Gage says shocked. “You brought her with you?” He glances at me like I’m out of my mind. “Worst date ever,” he murmurs.
“Brought who?” I ask puzzled, breathing through my pain. The corners of my mouth drop at a woman huddled against the brick wall with her hands covering her head. Amelia peers up at us through her arms, and I can’t stop the horrifying expression crossing my face.
Tears streak down her cheeks faster than she can hide them.
“You do not know,” the General says in a thoughtful tone, staring at her—or I assume he’s staring. His eyes aren’t something humans are supposed to look at.
“Which way did she go?” Gage questions, ready to finish what he started after he scans the ground for vampire ash.
Nothing but Amelia’s broken, terrified face registers in my mind. Her unsure eyes are unfocused, but vigilant like she can’t make up her mind if what she witnessed was real or not. She’s too afraid to move and tightens her grip around her knees to make herself small and invisible. The sensible part of her mind is shredded, and she can’t put the pieces back together.
One look at her darting gaze, seeking out the dark corners tells me she’s not meant for this world. The one I live in. She collided with the supernatural and it bound her with fear. Stealing the reasonable parts of her mind and making her question reality. The tr
uth will fracture everything she knows, starting from the inside, until it isolates her into believing she can’t win.
And I’ll lose her.
Everything that makes her Amelia will be lost because of me.
Sorrow and rage descend into bitter resignation and increasing fear of what I did.
I should have said no. I should have offered to walk her to her car instead of agreeing to get coffee. I never should have flirted with her.
I can live without her.
She deserves a life without monsters constantly haunting her.
My chest aches as I hold out my hand to her. “Come here.” She grabs it like a lifeline. Warm tingles travel up my arm from her touch and I ignore it, hugging her tightly. Shaking uncontrollably, she buries her face in my chest. My breath catches because she fits perfectly against me.
I will have to let her go, but for now, I embrace her protectively. She needs a safe space to put her life back in order for the future she planned in Sipsys. And my arms can give her that for a little while.
I will spin lies into truth to save her.
Pressing my cheek against the top of her head, I shield her from the shadows. “I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because that’s a stupid question. You’re not hurt, are you?”
She shakes her head.
“What did you see?” Gage asks her skeptically.
“She saw everything,” the General answers for her. “She does not know.”
“Know what?” Gage queries.
“About my world,” the General replies.
“Your world?” Amelia’s voice trembles weakly against my chest as she turns her head.
His world is a black hole and I can’t let her get lost in it.
Gently bracing her chin between my fingers, I force her to look at me. Taking a deep breath, I say in the most convincing voice I have, “What you saw was not real. It was a figment of your imagination. The dark does play tricks on you. We specialize in finding people who are unfit to live on their own. I’m going to take you to your car and you’re going to go home. And tomorrow you’ll be a little bit closer to becoming a meteorologist.”
It’s a speech I’ve rehearsed and used thousands of times. Simple words that blanket the horror after facing Hell’s creatures. Sometimes it works. The brain just needs to hear the words said out loud by someone else. Because if she thinks I believe it, then it must be true.
I slowly nod with a small twist of my lips to hypnotize her into agreeing with me. A little tactic my mom taught me. If the person you’re lying to starts nodding, their brain is more susceptible to the speech.
Gage wants to interfere, disappointment etched on his face. I have no doubt he’s tracking my pheromones being this close to us. He knows the speech by heart and uses the same tactic on countless victims we’ve saved. But he doesn’t want me using it on Amelia because it means I’ve given up on her and a future he planned for me. His eyes mentally curse at me while he keeps his mouth in check.
But Gage didn’t see the determination in her eyes I saw earlier. It’s flickering like a candle caught in the wind. All the fire and compassion stifled by a reality that’s not supposed to exist. I hold her a little tighter, wishing I could absorb the uncertainty from her. And give her the courage to crawl out of the quicksand she’s been dropped in.
Pulling Amelia out of the alley, I tuck her against my side and softly caress her arm with my fingers. An annoying pressure weighs over me with each step we take toward the Boulevard.
I fill the silence with useless stories and happy prattle I use on strangers when I’m distracting them for Gage. We have about a thirty-minute walk to get back to Sipsys. None of the questions I ask gets her talking, but her eyes flit in my direction, so I know she can hear me.
The only answers I get are directions to her car once we hit Sunshine. I’m in the middle of a hurricane evacuation story when we come up on her Corolla. The sight of the small beater cracks the mounting pressure on my chest and it explodes into a giant gaping hole. My empty hand reaches for the aching spot as I inhale sharply like I can’t catch my breath.
In my peripheral vision, I find her staring, so I replace the miserable expression with a simple upward twist of my lips. My hands are in my pockets, and it’s in that moment I realize she slid away from me. The missing warmth of her body burning at the edges of the crater in my torso.
Clinging to the small amount of time I have left with her, I offer to drive her home. “Gage can follow us.”
I don’t know if she hears me. But her steady hands unlock the car door with her key and she pulls the seatbelt over her lap like it’s second nature. Spreading her fingers across the steering wheel, she barely gazes up to acknowledge I’m still there.
Averting my eyes to the ground, it’s the best I can do to hide the melancholy in them.
Good manners finally get her out of the trance she’s in. “Thank you, for-uh, walking me to my car.” An automatic reaction to someone helping her.
The car door shuts, and she keeps her gaze on the road as she drives away.
On the sidewalk, I stare at nothing when she’s out of sight.
“She’ll be okay,” Gage assures me softly with a hand on my shoulder. “Give her some time and everything will work itself out.” There’s hope in his voice and all I want to do is crush it.
Dismal, crazed laughter filters out of me as I comb my fingers through my hair. I can’t help but give him an are-you-kidding-me look. “I ruined her life. All because I was selfish enough to think, what can one little date hurt? She might end up in the psych ward.”
“Don’t start,” Gage says exasperated. “Tonight was not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. If you want to blame someone, blame Hell.”
“That’s a place, not a person.”
The correction tilts the corner of his mouth up and I want my fist to help it change directions. “Don’t start doubting everything over one night.” Gage’s voice is dangerously close to pleading. “Our lives revolve around all the bad stuff we have to face. Happiness isn’t impossible. Carve out a life away from all this.”
“Like you?” I accuse contemptuously.
He flinches and a dark shadow crosses his face. “It’s not the same and you know that. I never belonged here.”
It’s the worst thing I could have said to him.
But the result is exactly what I wanted.
Standing on the sidewalk alone, I let the agony in my chest consume me.
Chapter 13
Amelia
G asping breaths pull me from the vivid memory. Tears fall down my cheeks as I choke out shaking sobs from the nightmare I can’t hide from.
The last few hours of my life are not a figment of my imagination. Monsters are real. And one tried to kill me. The memory replays in my head over and over again. Rowan lied to me. The dark doesn’t play tricks on you. It’s all real.
Maybe I can’t deny it anymore because I’m finally in my driveway. And the house in front of me is familiar. Something tangible. Something I know for a fact is real.
Because everything I saw tonight…is not? I shake my head and lean my forehead against the steering wheel.
Reasoning with my eyes has been a harrowing task. Logic and everything I witnessed is tackling my brain from both sides, trying to submit it.
I’m not sure how I made it to my car. I remember focusing on Rowan’s fingers caressing my arm while we walked down Sunshine Boulevard. The way he smiled even if I never answered a question he asked. So patient. So sincere. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I had a chill I couldn’t get rid of despite the hot weather.
But no eye contact.
I think because he knew I had questions. Questions he doesn’t want to answer. So, he filled the silence with nonessential chitchat that doesn’t require a lot of thought. Things life normally revolve around.
Because what I witnessed was an anomaly.
Gage followed us until he found a bar to retreat in to give u
s privacy.
Now I’m sitting in the driveway and can’t seem to get out of my car to walk the short distance to the front door in the dark. There’s a tiny ache in my fingers, wrapped too tightly around the steering wheel because I never let it go.
Rowan’s words echo inside my head. What you saw was not real. It was a figment of your imagination. The dark does play tricks on you.
I want to believe every word.
But everything inside of me calls him a no-good-dirty-rotten-extremely-hot-liar.
Because I saw everything. And those words—words I wish I could believe—clash with my own two eyes. Did I imagine her? It was so dark. The logical part of my brain wants to believe my imagination has gone wild.
But she glowed. The only person…thing, visible in the dark. And she moved so fast. A haze of white.
At first, I thought it was some kind of magic trick with lights. White glow sticks being flung around in Rowan’s hands. White fire bending under the night sky to scare off the shadows. Because there was something black surrounding it, trying to swallow it whole.
Douse the white flame. Suffocate the white light. Extinguish the glow.
Was it an angel?
Rowan slashed at it with a knife. Why would he attack an angel?
Ghost.
The word is absolutely absurd. My scientific brain can handle the existence of angels, but the thought of ghosts is laughable. Maybe because my mother is so religious, and she believes in it all.
My eyes shut and the memory vividly replays in my mind again. If it’s a ghost, then why would he need a knife? And the stick. He stabbed her with a stick.
A ghost wouldn’t linger to be stabbed to death. It would disappear. I shiver in the hot car. Would it have been better if she disappeared into thin air?
It’s not any better than what I remember.
The black shroud grew limbs. Confining her. She barely moved. Resigned to her fate, she didn’t defend herself. Those eyes—black pools of oil—stared at Rowan as the black cloud of death held her hostage.
