“Hey in there! Is everything alright?” Her super’s voice penetrated the wooden door. Eve felt a surge of hope in response to his rough bark. “I’ve called the police. They’re on the way!”
“Shit. Kill her, Edric, and let's get out of here.”
The woman's voice came from behind her attacker. She sounded emotionless and cruel. Eve wanted to call out to the super. She wanted to keep screaming. But she stopped, trying her best to be quiet, while inside she begged for the police. Please hurry.
“You said I could have time with this one!”
Eve slid further away and prayed she would go unnoticed. Did she know Edric? Was he somehow connected with the night she became pregnant? Eve held her hand over her stomach. Is he connected to the father of my baby?
“The next one, okay?” The woman's voice sounded closer. Eve slowed her breaths and tried to ease her racing heart. “Rip out her throat. Kill the baby and let's be done with it.”
No! Eve felt her feet leave the floor. She choked, gasped, fighting for her chest to move and inhale the cold air. It felt like her spine was stretching, almost breaking in two. Her child kicked and rolled inside her. “Please… my baby.”
The woman’s cold voice mimicked her cries. “My baby. She's just like all the others. Do her and let's get out of this dump.”
Eve was jerked against her attacker’s chest. She kicked, but her blows hit only air. He bowed her body backwards, his grip entwined in her hair. The bones in her neck crunched. Cold fire cleaved through her head as he dragged her into the lounge room.
She could feel his cold breath along her neck. It was like ice, like his touch. Shouldn’t he feel warm? Panic filled her as he lowered his head. Needles gouged into the hollow of her neck, followed by the wetness of his tongue. Eve froze. My baby’s going to die and it’s my fault. My son is going to die.
Eve’s world flooded back. Not the world in which she lived, but her future—her son. She let her body sag against his, breathing through the fear threatening to overwhelm her. She dropped her body low, molding it around his, before she pushed upwards, ramming her head under his chin.
The grip on her hair loosened. She hit the ground with a thud as the sound of fists pounded the door.
His screams felt sonic. The sound vibrated through her as she moved, trying to get away. “Fucking bitch!”
Eve was too slow. It felt as though a freighter smashed into her face. She flew backwards and smashed against the wall and then the floor.... Breaths. That was all she had for a while, breaths and a heartbeat. She couldn’t move. Not open her mouth to scream, nor move her legs to run. Her thoughts were filled with nausea and pain, retching and gnawing. Slowly she wrapped her arms around her stomach, covering her child as much as she could.
A splintering sound ripped through her apartment from the front door. The green energy efficient hall lights seemed to cover the floor like an eerie fog. Eve watched the light flicker and listened to the erratic beat of boots on her floor as they headed toward her. Lights blinded her and then moved away, dazing her. Bombs seemed to detonate inside the room. White flashes, like fireworks, sparked all around her. The room came alive with the sounds of lightning and thunder. Screams followed. Gut-wrenching screams. It sounded like hell was unleashed inside her apartment.
If she had any strength left, she might have prayed. Instead, she focused on one thing. Her stomach was as still as a grave. Eve ran her hands over her belly. Please… please, move. There was no movement. No turning inside her or pressure from his feet or his hands, fighting for a way free. Nothing. Eve sobbed. It felt like something ruptured inside her chest—like her heart.
No, no, no, this isn’t happening. Please be alive. My baby… Eve rocked back and forth. Her tears blurred the dim while she strained every sense, trying to feel some sign of life inside her womb. In her darkest fears, she could see her baby. He floated inside her, lifeless.
There was nothing else to live for. She stared at the darkened shapes of the officers as they moved through her apartment. Her hope of surviving this slaughter left her. She may as well be dead, too.
Her hand was pushed from below.
Her breath stopped.
Her baby kicked.
She followed the movements with her fingers. Please, please be alright. As though he heard her plea, he lashed out, kicking hard, like her ribs were a field goal. Even though she fought against the discomfort, she laughed. My baby’s alive.
Something big slammed into the wall. Something warm and wet splashed her face. Eve reached out. She then jerked her hand back and froze. Flashlights danced around the room. They swept from the ceiling to the floor, highlighting the form in front of her, before moving off. Torn black clothes, covered in blood, were all she could make out in the gloom. Something glinted. A shield… a police officer’s shield.
“Move… get… out.”
His words were garbled. He reached out, touching her thigh before his hand slipped, striking the floor. Eve pulled back before she realized he was talking to her. He was trying to save her. She scooted forwards, reaching out to him in the dark. Her fingers touched something wet and sticky. She pulled back.
“Please,” he whispered. The words were faint. She leaned so close their bodies touched. “Tell my family I love them.”
He wheezed. The choking noise was harsh, as though his breath was taking rather than giving him life. Then the harsh breaths were no more.
He tried to save her even as he lay dying. She had to do something. Eve reached for his gun, jerking it from his holster. She didn’t know the first thing about using a gun, but she didn’t care. She gripped it hard in one hand, her finger slipping to rest on the trigger while she used her other hand to wriggle backwards. Gun fire echoed in front of her. Grit sprayed her face. She searched the room, trying to get her bearings.
That wasn’t me… that wasn’t me….
Eve could just make out the white rectangle of her refrigerator, so the kitchen must be in front of her. She scanned the scene to the left. The green lights from the hallway caught her attention. Her front door lay in shards, pieces dangling from the hinges. Somewhere in the room a man screamed. She steadied the gun and took her finger off the trigger. Keeping it in front of her, she moved. Eve kept low and crawled over the dead officer in front of her. Her belly slid easily across his, helped by the slickness of his blood. The sticky moisture left her cold and wet.
A thump sounded beside her. A heartbeat later, a face came at her in the dark. Eve cowered against the wall to get away. It was the face of a woman. Her white skin and dark hair made her look like an angel, an angel of death.
A man lay underneath the woman. He kicked and screamed, fighting for his life. His struggles were useless. She pulled away from Eve, her features blurring in the dark, but still recognizable, and turned her attention back to the man underneath her.
Eve made out the sheen on her long white teeth, teeth which disappeared into his flesh. The sound of ripping, tearing, filled her ears. Eve let out a whimper. She moved faster, scuttling like the cockroaches she despised. She surged forward, heading to the kitchen and the front door next to it. If she could get there, she’d be able to run. She’d be able to hide.
A hand gripped her foot and dragged her backwards. Fighting the cold grasp on her ankle, she twisted her body so she slid on her side instead of her stomach.
“There you are,” the woman growled at Eve.
She whimpered and lifted the gun. The muscles in her arms quivered from the strain and she held her breath. The muzzle bounced around in the air in front of her, moving off the woman’s face and back on again. Please. She prayed the bullet would find its mark. “Don’t come near me. I’ll shoot… I’ll shoot you.”
The woman snarled and moved toward her. “I’m going to tear your fucking heart out, you little bitch.”
Eve slipped her finger back onto the trigger and jerked back. The sound of the click was unexpected. Eve expected a boom. She expected the screams of
her attacker. She expected death. Instead, she received laughter and a wave of nausea.
Eve kicked, catching her attacker in the head. The woman’s grip tightened, pulling Eve down on top of her. The woman’s hands dug into her calf, her thigh, and then her stomach. She dragged Eve underneath her.
“Hey!”
The woman turned and hissed at the intrusion. Footsteps thundered toward Eve. One minute the woman was on top of her, snarling and laughing, and the next she smashed into the wall. Eve pulled her legs in tighter, covering her body. The splintering sound filled the air. Eve was pierced with long shards and she raised her hand to protect her face and felt… wood. Her heart sank as she lifted the spike up to her face. Even in the dim she could see the white painted edge of what had been her white timber cradle.
The cradle was all she had for her son. It was all she could ever afford. She gripped the largest fragment of the white timber and pushed herself up. This was her cradle, her son, her fucking life! She could feel the wood digging into her palms as she gripped the shard. She no longer cared. She could already see in her mind what she needed to do. The piece of wood was thin and long, but sharp enough to hurt, sharp enough to kill.
“You fucking bitch!” Eve shoved the point into the woman with every ounce of strength she had left. The splintered wood pierced the woman’s body. Eve drove the makeshift dagger home, pushing the jagged point all the way through. The sickening squelch made her turn away. A howl tore through the darkness.
“Mercy! Mercy! No, no. No!”
Anger left Eve quicker than it came, taking with it every ounce of energy. There is no mercy here, not in this apartment, not in this life…. Something hard and heavy hit her, knocking her to the ground. Her new attacker stood over her, the glow from the moon illuminating his face. His hood was gone.
He picked the woman up and held her arms. Eve could see the broken, white sliver jutting out below her body. She couldn’t look away.
“What have you done?” Edric screamed, moving in on her. His face came into view, full of anger and rage.
Eve was done, she had nothing left. No more fear, no more anger… there was nothing but exhaustion. The sound of footsteps pounded along the hall. She couldn’t yet relax. “I killed her to protect my son. That’s what a mother does. And I’ll kill you, if I have to.”
Edric looked down at the woman in his arms and jerked her against his body. “Mercy, please wake up!”
Eve couldn’t look away. She was transfixed by the grief in his voice. Mercy crumpled like paper. One minute, he held her. The next, she dissolved, falling through his outstretched hands like rain.
“Police. Don’t move!”
Edric dropped his arms. The roaring sound of officers filled the room. They barked their orders. Their combined shouts were deafening. “Police. Don’t move!”
Edric stared down at her. “I’m coming back for you. And when I do, you’ll fucking beg me to kill you.”
In an instant, he was gone.
Chapter 7
Grimm
GRIMM WATCHED HARMONY drive her glove into the punching bag. Her bones were too delicate to be a warrior, but she was showing some damn potential.
“Hit. It. Harder!” His tone might’ve been harsher than necessary, but he didn't need to hold back. After all, she was used to him pushing her.
Harmony swung, throwing her whole body into the punch. She overbalanced, slamming into the bag.
Grimm groaned. “You're not making love to the fucking thing, Harmony. It's not asking for a damn body slide. Just fucking punch it!”
He could see her eyes water. But she held her shit together, straightened her spine and tried again, this time making the one hundred and fifty kilo bag jump in the air. Better—but kept his praise to himself and barked, “Again!”
They’d been at it for over an hour. Her shirt was drenched with her sweat. It hugged her body, emphasizing her curves under the long sleeves. Why does she always wear long fucking sleeves? He shoved his pale hair from his eyes. This woman triggered something inside of him he didn’t like. So prim and proper. He wanted to break down those walls. He wanted to—
“Please stop staring at me.”
He jerked back to reality and realized she was watching him watch her. Harmony folded her arms across her chest, defensively. He looked down at the floor while his wolf growled and paced inside him. Her long brown hair and frantic eyes reminded him of a frightened little rabbit. Prey, whispered his wolf inside his mind. He shut his animal off and turned away, feeling the twinges of disgust. Grimm was angry, angry at everyone and everything. He was not only the last of his line; he was the last of his species, the last lycan on this godforsaken planet. His reality weighed heavily.
He found himself in good company, however. The mountain Lythe was where the rejects of the immortal world gathered, ready to throw themselves into the next suicide mission, for the greater good of the Balance. They were known as the Family. He was sure it’d been a joke at one time. A joke which seemed to have stuck.
His nostrils flared and he drew in Harmony’s panicked scent. He didn’t mean to frighten her. But somehow the vampire triggered his wolf, and it was his nature to attack and consume the weak. He hated to think about her like this. Why couldn’t she be more like… Kali? He closed his eyes and inhaled, calming the beast within.
Harmony was a vampire princess of some kind, although she refused to speak of her life. He’d overheard Jinx talk about her once, the ancient male vamp’s cold disdain indicating not someone of royalty, but a leper. Jinx wouldn’t answer Grimm’s questions, only muttered he wasn’t getting involved in Harmony’s mess. Grimm guessed they all had something in their past they would rather forget. For all the vampires both Harmony and Jinx had killed, or helped kill, over the years, they still showed little or no remorse. So in his book, they were the good guys.
The door opened and the star child, Scribe, entered. Scribe’s movements reminded Grimm of a goddamn dandelion. His smile was full and radiant, lighting up the room when he entered. Everything about this kid was fucking light. Grimm sighed; must be his time of the month. He sucked in a deep breath, attempting to control himself, and heard his shirt tear. Shit, he needed to lay off the weights.
Grimm glanced at the star child. “What do you want?”
Scribe winced and spoke in a soft, hurried tone. “Sorry to interrupt your training, Harmony, Grimm. But there was another message.”
Grimm sensed Harmony move and he followed her with his gaze. She smiled at Scribe. “It's okay, honey. You don't need to apologize.”
“Just let the kid say what he came here to say, woman. Jesus....” Grimm turned to the boy and stared into lapis-colored eyes. “What message?”
“Rashda emailed the detective again.”
“Shit. Are you serious? Shit! How does she not understand that she puts us all in danger when she contacts the fucking human? What if he traces the email back to us?” Grimm threw his head back to growl at the ceiling. He wanted to howl, needed to do it because his skin was on fire. But hearing an animal’s howl freaked everyone out. This damn mountain echoed like you wouldn't believe. He jerked his gaze to the tiny figure. “I thought you told me the password couldn't be cracked. Unbreakable was the exact fucking word, correct me if I'm wrong.”
“Leave him alone, Grimm. Can't you see the poor child is trembling?”
Scribe shuffled backwards and dropped his gaze. “I'm sorry. But the password should’ve been unbreakable. I designed it myself.”
Harmony voiced what Grimm was already thinking. “Have you told the others yet, honey?”
Honey? Christ on a fucking stick, this woman is driving me nuts!
“No, I came straight here when I found out.”
“Okay, well, the others will have to be told.” Harmony leaned down and grabbed her towel. Grimm could see her hand shake when she reached for her water. He reacted, seizing her wrist. “When was the last time you fed?”
Harmony cried out
and snatched her hand away. His wolf snarled. “Jesus, I'm not going to hurt you!”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean....” Her gaze widened. She clutched the towel tightly to her chest.
“Don't worry about it,” he growled and strode from the gym. He should’ve known better than to get in her face. He should’ve known better than to care.
He marched down the hall, making short work of the corridor. At almost six-five, he was the tallest in the Family. But was he the most deadly? Hell no.
He stepped into one of the cavern rooms. The most deadly of them all sat on the ground with her legs crossed. The white cord of her headphones lay over glossy midnight hair, and the sound of her meditation hummed through pursed lips.
Kali was the scariest woman he’d ever met in his entire four hundred years, all in a five-foot-four package… go figure. He wasn't quite sure how old she was, and he sure as hell wasn't game to ask. But he’d guess the moon had looked a hell of a lot younger back when she was born. He was glad she fought beside him. As dangerous as she was, he knew she’d never hurt him. Right?
As though Kali knew what he was thinking, she turned her head, meeting his gaze. She never broke her chant and turned back to her meditation, her priorities seemingly in stone. He waited for her to finish, shifting from one foot to the other like a nervous fucking prom date. Then the humming stopped and she rose. Her movements were fluid, like a rushing tide.
“Rashda's sent another email.” He listened to the others gather into the room behind him. No one said a word.
He stared around the room and waited for them to say something, anything. Why was he the only one pissed by this? The white overhead light beamed straight down, leaving the black granite walls in inky blackness. Over the years, they’d made this home, creating a kitchen, medical rooms, a gym and their own bedrooms—he eyed Kali—for those of them who slept, anyway. The rest of the great mountain was used as garages, storage, and meeting rooms such as this. The mountain was sacred, in a way. It had always existed, while the Earth changed around it. Immortal in its own right, the mountain remained for them.
Paranormal After Dark Page 29
