by Elle Lewis
I lurched forward, my face almost smacking into the concrete. An arm wrapped around my upper torso and I was lifted off the ground. Rain stung my eyes as I was pulled into the sky once again. I twisted. Darrow gazed down at me.
I growled and began fighting against him, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, not caring about the fall below. It was like trying to twist out of solid steel. Darrow tightened his hold and increased his speed, diving into the heart of downtown Seattle.
My stomach clenched as he wove around skyscrapers, his black wings reflecting in the glass windows. My heart beat so quickly that it felt as if my ribs were being smacked with a hammer. Darrow was almost through the city when I caught a glimpse of white in my peripheral. The white warrior was in pursuit.
Darrow doubled his speed, but the warrior stayed close, mirroring our every move. The warrior was quickly gaining and within seconds pulled abreast of Darrow. His translucent eyes burned like orbs of white fire. A burst of movement erupted from the warrior as he landed a lightning fast blow to the side of Darrow’s face. CLACK!
Darrow’s head rocked back. He lost control. Darrow attempted to right himself, but he was going too fast to manage it. He pulled up, attempting to clear the top of the building, but the ledge caught his lower legs and we tumbled onto the roof. At some point during the jumble, he released me.
I rolled several times, coming to a painful stop against the concrete ledge. I pushed myself up with wobbly arms and stood. There was so much adrenaline coursing through my veins that if I was hurt, I sure as hell couldn’t tell. The roof itself was flat. There had to be an exit door somewhere with a stairwell leading down.
Before I could attempt to locate it, the warrior landed in the center of the rooftop. The force fractured the concrete, shaking the building, nearly knocking me off balance. Darrow was already standing, a long dagger in hand. The warrior immediately launched a merciless attack on Darrow. His spear soared through the darkness, a vision of precision and might. The warrior moved in a succession of graceful movements, using every part of his body in a relentless onslaught. Darrow fought back but could barely manage to block the blows that the warrior rained down on him.
I stood, frozen, unable to look away.
Bright waves of electricity wove through darkness as they swung their weapons. The metal clashed again and again, sparks flying. It was no contest. The white warrior proved to be more powerful than Darrow. I watched with pleasure as he pummeled Darrow into the rooftop. Finally, the warrior grabbed Darrow by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
“I will end you,” the warrior growled. And then, as if it took no effort at all, he threw Darrow off the roof. Darrow shot through the air. Glass exploded as he smashed into a nearby high-rise. I had no idea if he was lodged within the ruble or if the force had taken him completely through. People screamed as glass and concrete came crashing down onto the street.
The warrior faced me. His strange translucent eyes regarded me intently. I feared him greatly, yet I was also mesmerized.
“What’s happening?” I whispered. “What are you?”
“Not now,” he responded. The powerful warrior swept me into his arms and leapt off the side of the building. He soared through the city like a shooting star. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to handle much more. The cold air whipped in-between my toes. I shivered, so overwhelmed and frightened that I could barely form a coherent thought.
“Take the human!” The warrior commanded.
I opened my eyes to see the same alley, where the fighting began. The battle between Darrow’s soldiers and the other two warriors was still going strong. The white warrior held me close as he nosedived. He stayed in flight, our bodies mere feet from the pavement. He threw me like a rag doll into the golden one’s waiting arms and continued past us, climbing into the sky. Darrow followed in his wake, a black blur streaking through the rain. Gaining altitude, they resumed their violent battle.
The golden warrior set me down just in time as three of Darrow’s soldiers assailed him. A thunderous battle cry ripped from his throat as he countered, fighting all three with graceful brutality. It was now or never. I knew I was back in the alley, but I felt disoriented after flying through the city. It took me a few moments to get my bearings. I managed to make my way over to the brick wall, running my hand along its rough surface as a guide. Finally, I spotted James. He was still laying on his stomach.
I sprinted to where he was and crouched beside him. His eyes were closed, and he was completely still. Cold fear spread through my chest. I managed to turn him over, cradling his head in my lap. Blood trickled down the side of his face. A small sob escaped my lips, my tears mingling with the rain.
“James,” I stroked his face. “James, please—oh god—open your eyes.” Panic gripped me. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to calm down and make myself really look at him. His chest rose and fell. I could hear him breathing.
I took in a huge breath and made myself calm the fuck down. James had been knocked out, but he was alive. Continuous trembles shook the ground as the warriors and dark soldiers fought just feet from where we were huddled. I ignored the nearby battle and began saying his name, shaking him. Nothing happened. I slapped him hard across the face.
His eyes fluttered open.
Relief shot through me. “James, you have to stand. We have to go get out of here, now!”
“Sloan?” He grabbed his head, wincing. I helped him sit up. James blinked a few times and then his eyes widened in shock as he took in situation surrounding us.
“Holy shit.” He stood, pulling me up with him. He wrapped his hand around mine and we ran for it. I could tell James was in pain, but he did not stop running. I kept pace, forcing my body forward. In a few moments we cleared the alley, and I could see James’ white truck parked up ahead. Sirens blared in the distance. Emergency responders and police were coming.
James already had his car keys out, but to my surprise he didn’t open the door. Instead, he went to the bed of the truck and unlocked a long silver lock box. There was a black rifle inside. James pulled it out, expertly charged it, and then opened the passenger side door, helping me inside.
He got behind the wheel, handing me the gun. “Hold this, keep your finger off the trigger and give it to me if I ask for it. Got it?”
I nodded. The high-pitched wail of sirens was getting closer.
“James, the police don’t stand a chance.”
“They can handle themselves.” James put the truck in gear and stomped on the gas. I kept quiet, gritting my teeth as we sped towards the interstate.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LOVE AND WOUNDS
James put the truck in park. His house was dark. Quiet. Crickets chirped, the wet trees rustling in the cold wind. The rain had stopped.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “What if they come back? Maybe we should separate, I can go in a different direction.”
James gave me a look that made me instantly shut up. “Stay here.”
He took the rifle from me and got out of the truck. My eyes followed him as he walked to my side of the car, the gun ready. He opened the door. “Grab your bag and then take my hand.” He kept his eyes on the surrounding tree line, occasionally glancing at the sky. I did exactly what he said, realizing that I had left my purse on Millie’s bed. I still had my overnight bag. I slung it over my shoulder and climbed out of the truck, gasping in pain as my feet touched the ground.
James softly shut the passenger side door, and I put my hand in his. He drew me to his side, and started backing up, the gun still held at the ready. Once we reached the front door, he put the keys in my hand. “Unlock the door.” James didn’t take his eyes away from the sky.
I put the key i
n the lock, twisted it, and stepped inside. James followed me, immediately bolting the door shut behind us.
“Wait here for just a minute,” his deep voice said from next to me.
James moved into the darkness and I felt instantly vulnerable. I remembered the layout of his house and listened to his footsteps, picturing where he was going.
He moved down the hall and then a little to the right, towards the living room. Sudden light flooded the small space. James stood next to a lamp. The blood on his face had dried.
The rush of adrenaline had faded, and I could now feel the pain in my feet. James made his way back up the hallway and drew me into the kitchen. He clicked on the kitchen light and set the rifle down on the counter. He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me onto the counter next to the sink. James looked me over, taking my chin in his hand and gently turning my face so he could examine my cheek. His eyes hardened. The backhanded slap from Darrow must have begun to bruise.
James grabbed a dishcloth and filled it with ice. He rested it against my cheek. He exhaled, the muscles in his jaw standing out.
“What the hell happened?”
In a quiet voice, I told him everything. James listened, eyes wide.
“You free fell?”
I nodded. “Guess I can cross sky diving off my bucket list.”
“Jesus Christ,” said James.
“Do you think they will come back tonight?” I asked.
James shook his head. “No…I don’t know. While we were driving, I looked in the review mirror and saw a dozen dark figures launch into the sky. It seems like they retreated, for now. From what you said, the white warrior probably drove them off.”
“What should we do?”
“Stay here. I don’t think being out in the open is a good idea. I have the rifle. We will just have to wait out the night,” he responded.
“Okay,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” said James.
“For what?”
“He took you. I couldn’t stop it.”
I put my hand over his. “Don’t. It’s not your fault. I don’t think anything on this earth can stop them, let alone you and me.”
He frowned. “Are you hurt?”
“Overall I’m a little banged up. I can feel it now, the fall onto the roof. But my feet hurt the most. They got pretty cut up.”
He knelt and examined the bottom of my feet. I glanced down and saw that they were not only filthy but covered in blood. James emptied the ice into the sink and then ran the dishtowel under warm water. He then began the process of cleaning away the dirt and blood from my feet, his fingertips running over my skin as he made sure there were no lingering pieces of glass or rocks.
“You just have a couple of small cuts that bled a lot,” he said as he wiped away the last smear of blood. “I don’t think it’s serious.”
“What about you?” I asked as he stood up.
“I’m fine.”
“Come here.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but decided not to. James ran another dishtowel under the faucet and stood in front of me.
I took it from him and began wiping the blood from his face. I carefully pulled back his wavy dark hair, so that I could see how badly he was hurt. His eyes fixed intently on my face as I searched for the injury that knocked him out. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that deep, a small gash not even an inch long.
“I hope you don’t need stitches, but you should get checked out. I’ll go with you tomorrow.” If we make it through the night.
“Sure.” His gaze centered on my lips.
“James are you listening?”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. I was still sitting on top of the counter with my legs on either side of his waist. He was extremely careful with me. I dropped the dishtowel and wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting him closer.
James broke the kiss, moving his lips to my neck. “We should take a shower,” he said.
I pulled away a little, my eyebrows raised.
He smiled. “I mean, separately. You should take a shower, I should then take a completely different shower.”
I smirked.
“You’ll feel better,” James added.
I nodded. “Okay.”
James lifted me down from the counter. I couldn’t help but gasp as my feet touched the cold hardwood floor. He wrapped his hand around mine and then picked up my overnight bag. I followed him into the bedroom, my eyes lingering on the king-sized bed.
“I’ll be right back.” James left me standing by the bathroom door.
There was a lot of navy blue in his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was airy, without clutter. The only other furniture in the room was a light brown wooden dresser. A blue shower curtain hung over the tub. Simple but clean.
James pressed a soft thick white towel in my hands and then opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out Neosporin and bandages. “Put this on your feet when you’re done. I’ll stay close.”
“Thank you.” I closed the door and got undressed.
I turned the shower on as hot as it would go. For the first few minutes, I simply stood under the water, letting the warmth cascade over me. I used James’s musky soap and shampoo. The soap and water stung my feet. I scrubbed them vigorously, ignoring the discomfort.
Flashes of the battle raced across my thoughts. There were three of the warrior beings. I replayed what was said, trying to piece together information. Give her to me, Dark One. The warriors prevented Darrow from taking me. But it seemed as if they wanted me as well. For what reason, I still didn’t know.
I hastily towel dried my hair and wrapped the towel around myself. I twisted my damp hair into a bun and opened my overnight bag. What the hell had I thrown in here? Lying at the bottom of the bag was a tightly fitted yellow tank top, frayed denim cut-off shorts, motorcycle boots, socks, see-through brown tights, and a tunic style brown long sleeved sweater. Talk about random. Before putting on the tights and socks, I smeared Neosporin on the cuts on my feet and bandaged them. I bundled my dirty clothes in a ball and shoved them in the bag, zipping it shut. I folded the white towel, placing it neatly on top of the toilet seat.
I stepped out of the bathroom. James stood by the bedroom window, looking out into the night, his hand wrapped around the rifle.
“Anything?”
He turned. “No.”
“I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
James nodded, his eyes following me as I left the bedroom.
A large navy-blue couch occupied the living room, with a single bookshelf, lamp, small coffee table and a flat screen. Paintings of sailboats and ocean scenes adorned the walls. I curled up on the couch, pulling a pillow to my chest. I shivered. The dream tonight would be terrible.
I studied the ocean scenes that hung on the walls. The colors were vibrant, the water full of motion. I followed the brush strokes, imagining how the artist had brought the scene to life. I hugged the pillow closer. Echoes of fear rolled through me at regular intervals. I drew in a long deep breath and let it out slowly through my lips.
James walked into the living room, his hair wet. He wore a simple white cotton long sleeved shirt, light colored jeans and sneakers.
“Is there room for me?” he asked.
A small smile crossed my lips. “Absolutely.”
James placed the rifle on the coffee table and then stretched his long frame out next to me on the couch. “Come here.” He lifted his arm and then cradled me to his side, so that I could rest my head on his chest.
“How are you holding up?” he said.<
br />
“I’m okay. I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”
“I know.”
“It’s so...surreal. And terrifying. I wish you had seen the white warrior. The golden warrior was bigger than I remembered. But the other one, the one with white wings...he was smaller, but I could feel how powerful he was. And his eyes were, like, totally clear and luminous.” I shuttered.
James tightened his arms around me. “Try not to think about it anymore. You should sleep.”
“You know what will happen when I do.”
“But I’m here with you. And I will be here when you wake up. You won’t be alone.”
“How’s your head?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” James replied. “I took some Advil.”
“I wish I knew what they were.”
James chuckled. “Sloan try to calm your thoughts. We aren’t going to figure this out tonight, and you need to rest. How can I get your mind off it?”
“You can tell me about the ocean. I know that you love it but what draws you to it? Why is it special to you?”
“If I tell you, will you try to sleep?”
I nodded.
James stroked the side of my face. “I have a feeling I won’t ever be able to say no to you.” He was quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, “The further I am out there the more distance I get from my past. Things become clear and I can see how far I've come. The ocean is a reminder...I'm not just a man that lived on the streets. It's proof that I'm more than my pain...my loss." He paused then said, "I don't know if that makes any sense."
I sighed. "It makes perfect sense."
"I'd like to take you out there with me."
Tears stung my eyes. "I would love to go." The desire to be on the water with him was overwhelming. I doubted I would get the chance.
