Enemy Of My Enemy (Price Of Power Book 1)

by Laura Stephens

  I focus on keeping my breathing steady, on keeping my hands from shaking. He wants that satisfaction. He wants to know that his words frighten me, and I refuse to give him that. “Why are you after me? What do you want?” My voice quivers because my fear refuses to be kept at bay.

  His stubble scrapes against my neck as he leans forward; his breath is loud in my ear. “The only rule, Violet, is to bring you back alive. I’ll show you what true pain feels like before I do.”

  Without a second thought, I stomp my foot onto his, causing his body to shift. The crunch of his nose permeates the air around us as I slam my head back. I twist around, hurling my makeshift weapon towards him. I aim the metal tip of the headrest for his eye. It seems like the best area to cause the most damage with the least amount of effort. The downside is that it’s a tiny target and I miss. Without a moment’s hesitation, I launch at him. My sudden impact with him causes both of us to fall to the ground. I’m back on my feet before he even processes what’s happened.

  This is the first time I’ve had the chance to get a good look at the man. He’s tall, well over six feet and built like a bear. Gray streaks his beard and hair and deep wrinkles surround his eyes. He bares his teeth as he stares up at me. I need to get out of here. Now.

  Before I can take a single step, however, my body’s being flung through the air. Not knocked over or even pushed. I’ve just been launched across the clearing. What appears to be a vortex of black pearlescent fog surrounds me as I slam face first into the hard ground. Every bone and muscle in my body aches as I spit out a mouthful of dirt and grass. What the hell was that? Is it some kind of freak wind? Wetness flows down my face, trickling off the tip of my nose … blood. The old wound on my forehead must have reopened when I collided with the ground. Sharp pain fills my chest with each breath I take, with each movement I make. Hopefully it’s just a cracked rib and not broken.

  Whatever ridiculous excuses I told myself about how Stanley did what he did – they’re gone now. This man … he’s the same kind of freak as the last one that hunted me down. There’s something inhuman about them. Something off.

  I don’t know how it happened or what that scary black stuff was, but it somehow managed to fling me half a mile away from the car. I can’t see any movement inside … if that asshole did something to Emmy then I’ll be the one giving him scars. He hasn’t shown any interest in her yet, so I try to convince myself that she’s still unconscious.

  I can’t see a single road, not even the one we were driving on. There’s no sound of traffic driving past … there’s nothing. It’s like we’re in a completely different location than we should be. I pat around my waist band in search of my phone. Of course, in the middle of all the mayhem, my phone is in the car … with an unconscious Emmy.

  The black vortex reappears at my feet and begins to slowly rotate, climbing higher around me until I’m engulfed in it. Before, it was like a single gust of wind. Not this time. Now it’s almost like it’s being controlled, being forced to act in a specific way. I reach out in a crazy and stupid attempt to touch it; my hand is whipped back with so much force it nearly rips my arm out of the socket.

  There’s nowhere to go, not with this black stuff circling around me like a tornado. The stagnant form of the man is lingering just on the other side of the vortex, which I’m happy about. If he’s here with me than it means he’s not messing with my Emmy. He seems to be pleased about this situation as well, which is very unsettling.

  “Having fun yet?” I can barely hear him over the roaring wind surrounding me. Is he taunting me? Playing with his newly confined toy? “The area you were in was a bit crowded, so I moved us. I like to have privacy for this sort of thing. I’m sure you understand.”

  “So where exactly are we then?” It’s a long shot that he’ll answer, but you never know how stupid a person can be.

  The vortex of black fades and leaves the space empty between us. One moment I’m standing on my feet, the next I’m soaring through the air again. My ribs throb in pain – if they weren’t already fractured from the first fling, they definitely are now. This time he sent me flying only a few feet yet the pain of landing still hurts. He squats down on his knees and straddles my chest. The wind appears again, acting like restraints that keep my hands and feet pinned to the ground. I struggle against its hold. It refuses to give an inch.

  “I think we should go ahead and get started, don’t you?” He reaches down towards his ankle and pulls a blade from his boot. The sun glints off the steel and shines into my eyes.

  Oh God.

  I double my efforts at freedom but there’s nothing to show for it. There’s nothing I can do as he methodically drags the blade from my shoulder and along my collar bone. Warm blood seeps from the cut he makes, making me cringe. Finally, he stops at the base of my neck where he tilts the blade upwards, balancing it on its tip. My teeth bite down hard onto my bottom lip, trying to distract myself from the pain he is inflicting on me. He then makes an identical mark on the other side.

  “You may not be begging yet, Violet, but everyone breaks eventually. Soon enough I’ll be savoring your pleas for mercy.” He pulls the knife back along the same path he took moments before and pushes it deeper into my skin. Biting my lip isn’t enough this time and screams flow freely from me. Is it so horrible to wish that he would speed it up? It always happens so fast in the movies. So quick that the victim doesn’t even know the knife has punctured their skin until it’s already over. The movies have it wrong, at least when it comes to this situation. He takes his time. I can feel each skin cell rupturing. I can feel them being ripped apart as he slowly – so agonizingly slowly – drags the blade along my body.

  The wind refuses to yield for even a moment to give me a chance to escape. “NO!” The anger and resolve in my voice are enough to get him to pause, enough to wipe the creepy smile from his face. I’m not going to sit here and let him play with me as he kills me. I’m not going to let him get to Emmy. My arms shake. Roars erupt from me as I break through the winds. He looks from my eyes to my hand over and over. “That’s right, fucker!” I punch him in his freshly broken nose. The force I manage to inflict flings him off me. Based on the quietness of the thud, he lands a decent distance away. Farther away than I should have been able to throw him.

  I look down at my palms, which now emit a bright white glow. The veins on the backs of my hands pulse a whitish blue with each heartbeat, like an electrical current that fluctuates with intensity.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m truly starting to lose my marbles. I’d rather be crazy than have some ability that I shouldn’t have. I’m not like them.

  Am I?

  I shake my head in disbelief and then I’m back on my feet, running toward Emmy. I see the black vortex mere seconds before I collide with it, hurling me back towards him. Over and over again I try to get to her. Each time I’m blown back to where I started. This sadistic bastard has a very sick sense of humor.

  I stop running towards the car and spin around to face him. I’m done being his new plaything; I don’t even give myself a moment to think it through as I charge him. Hell, I’ll be doing the world a favor if I kill him. I highly doubt that anyone will mourn his death.

  With a hideous smile on his face, he tosses the knife from one hand to the other. No wind blocks my way this time. He wants me closer. A glimmer of light protrudes from the tall grass. I reach down and grab a piece of bumper from my car without slowing my pace.

  Holding the chunk of metal over my shoulder like I would a bat, I continue my charge. Once within range and with a war cry that would rival the best, I swing. The wind counteracts my action, but I ignore it – push through it. He pulls his arms up to shield his face like the coward he is.

  The metal bumper I’m heaving through the air starts to glow and an electric sizzle fills my ears. The metal blows through his makeshift shield and strikes him so hard that his body twists. Sparks rain in all directions but his clothing is what catche
s the brunt of the charge. Small wisps of smoke start to rise from him as the tiny embers became full on flames. He runs around in circles and tries to put himself out. Eventually he lowers himself to the ground and rolls around, trying to starve the flames of oxygen.

  Fairly confident that the black vortex is some evil type of wind, I’m not sure why he wouldn’t use it to put himself out. Regardless, I take the opportunity available to me … and run.

  Emmy is already out of my junker of a car and crawling towards me. “Emmy! Emmy, get up! We’ve gotta get the hell out of here now!” I grab her arm, forcing her to her feet. My ribs scream at me with each movement, but I ignore the pain and we run as fast as we can.

  “What was that, Violet?” She’s leaning heavily on me. In fact, I think I’m carrying more of her weight than she is. “Sparks? Where did the sparks come from, Violet?”

  “A hallucination is something that your mind makes up, right? Something that’s not real? If I hallucinated, you wouldn’t have been able to see it … right?” I desperately ask Emmy, trying to make sense out of all the things happening to me.

  3

  EMMY

  We hitchhiked our way home, something that I never thought I’d do. The moment we walked into the apartment Violet asked if we could move out of the city. I didn’t want to leave, but I want her safe and was more than willing to start new somewhere else. We stayed there long enough to pack a few bags and then we climbed into my lime green beetle and drove. She didn’t complain, didn’t say anything when I chose to take 27 instead of 95 out of the city.

  I haven’t said anything to her since we left over an hour ago. I was going to – I needed to – but she’s sitting in the passenger seat of my car twirling a curl of hair around her finger while gnawing on her bottom lip. I saw everything that happened. I saw the winds that were black as night. I saw Violet punch him in the face and launch him several feet away. I saw her hands that were sparking, the veins in her arms and face pulsating a light blue glow.

  The doctors thought she was lying about what happened to her. I know better than to think that. I’ve known Violet since I was a kid and she has never been a good liar. Plus the burn on her neck verified the story she gave. There is something going on here that neither of us understand, something that is far out of our control. Something that isn’t … normal.

  I’ve never been one for believing in ghosts or magic or any of that supernatural stuff, but that’s where my mind keeps going. Can all of the things you read about or watch in movies be possible? There has to be some other reason behind what happened today and three days ago.

  Violet doesn’t know any more than I do and I know she is hiding her fear as poorly as I am. Every night since the alleyway, I’ve heard her whimpers as she’s dreamt. I haven’t gone into her room because the Violet I know is never scared, she is never unsure. Typically she just brushes it off and makes a joke out of it or punches someone in the face. The Violet sitting next to me is scared and that terrifies me even more.

  A light illuminates on the dash. “We need gas,” I say softly, breaking up the silence. We were in such a rush to get away that I didn’t even think about filling up before we left the city. Now – in the middle of nowhere in the dead of the night – isn’t the time to have a dry tank.

  She doesn’t turn to look at me, just stares straight ahead. “There’s nothing until South Beach,” she finally says.

  For the next twenty minutes all I can do is cross my fingers and pray that we make it to a gas station before the engine peters out. I never let it get below half a tank for this very reason. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m still not thinking straight.

  A new burst of energy hits me as I see a sign for a gas at the next exit. The gas station appears abandoned, with not a car in sight. Considering the hour and location, I’m not all that surprised. As long as they have food inside, I really don’t care. Violet jumps out of the car, slamming the door behind her as I put the car in park. She runs into the store, not even glancing behind her.

  Instead of pumping first, I decide to go in and raid the store’s candy aisle first. By the time Violet comes out of the bathrooms, I already have candy stacked in my arms. Vi marches over, placing bags of chips and energy drinks on the top which is now threatening to topple over.

  “Apparently the women’s bathroom is closed for cleaning,” she says to me. “I had to use the men’s and it was disgusting. Seriously, there were stick figures drawn on the walls doing lord knows what.” She flashes me a smile as we navigate up the aisle towards the front counter.

  A teenage clerk stands behind the counter, playing on his phone, seemingly completely unaware of our presence. Dumping the contents of my arms onto the counter, I give Vi a small smile. She’s trying to act normal and I love that about her. Her large silver eyes go wide as half of the junk food falls onto the floor, I shrug and walk back towards the cooler in search of a cold coffee.

  I stand there staring at the drinks, my mind on everything but. Where are we even going? We’re leaving Florida, I know that. But then where? Our bank account has been almost completely drained thanks to the hospital and dentist. We have no jobs. It could take us weeks or months to find some. What do we do in the meantime? What if these people follow us? What about Vi’s court date? Her voice raises as she berates the poor employee about double bagging and I’m pulled from my own mundane worries.

  The bell on the door jingles as someone enters. I grab the first coffee I see and head back to Violet. The man that just entered circles around behind me, clearly waiting in line for us to get done. I nod and quickly glance away, not wanting him to think I was staring. His face is bruised and scratched, the bridge of his nose is swollen like it was recently broken. A black leather patch covers his right eye. If he was cleaned up, I think he would be quite handsome in a rugged bad boy type of way.

  I’m yanked back so hard and abruptly that I nearly fall. I probably would have if this man’s body hadn’t been pressed up against mine. His fingers splay against my neck, tightening ever so slightly.

  “Hello, Emmy,” he hisses into my ear.

  I cringe and start kicking a foot out behind me, striking him with my heel over and over. He doesn’t budge. His grip tightens until I can hardly draw a breath. Violet. She’s close, so very close to me. Why won’t she turn around? The employee sees what’s happening and immediately crouches down behind the counter and out of sight. Vi leans over the worn counter top, berating him some more. I try to call out for her but the man is squeezing my neck so tight that I can’t. The pressure builds and builds until it feels like my eyes will pop out of their sockets. I drop the iced coffee, the glass bottle shattering on the floor.

  Violet glances over her shoulder at the noise, her eyes dilating as she takes in the man behind me. She knows him, is scared of him. She’s frozen, not so much as twitching or blinking. And then it hits me. I know in my gut that this is the man who first attacked her. It’s Stanley.

  She lowers herself back on her feet, swallowing hard and squaring off her shoulders. Stanley releases his grip and I gulp for air. Had he held on any longer he would have killed me. Violet said he wanted her alive, does that stand for me as well?

  “An eyepatch?” Violet says with a hint of a laugh. “Really? Don’t you think that’s a bit of overkill, Stanley?”

  The man tenses behind me as Violet tilts her head back in laughter. I’m not surprised to see her resorting to forced humor but I wish she had thought it through a bit more first. His fingers flex in his anger. I need to get away from him before he burns me the way he did her. “You stabbed me in the eye with your damn shoe!”

  “Oh yeah!” Violet snaps her fingers for emphasis. “I completely forgot about that. I doubt it was one of your finest moments.” She gives me a wink.

  Am I supposed to know what that silent signal means? I dig my nails into his forearm until I feel them puncture his skin. He groans but doesn’t release me. I kick and flail. Flail and kick.

 
Violet launches her body at us, her shoulder striking me directly in the stomach. I’m pushed back hard enough that Stanley falls, taking each of us down with him. Vi lefts her weight off of me just enough that I scramble free and start coughing through the damage that he had done to me.

  Her thumb goes straight for his one remaining eye, pressing in deep and ruthlessly. With one last cough, I pull my feet under me and start looking for anything that we can use against him. Anything heavy or sharp. My gut churns at the thought of harming someone even if it is in self-defense. I’m the lover and Violet is the fighter. I don’t have the same kind of anger and aggression as she does and it makes me sick just thinking about being a part of this in any way.

  “Emmy,” Violet shouts as the two of them start rolling around on the floor. I have to do something, anything. I can’t let this bastard hurt her. I reach onto the shelves, grabbing whatever I can get my hand on and toss her a rope of processed meat. She looks at me dumbfounded and all I can do is shrug.