“Avery?”
I ignored him, making my way down the hall as if drawn by a magnet. The tape stopped me before I reached the door and I pulled it loose, tossing it aside to move past, then stopped dead in the door frame as the bottom dropped out of my world.
“Avery,” Alex called again. I felt his footsteps through the floor as he neared my side, each one vibrating through my body. I even felt the breath he exhaled when he looked inside. “Fuck.”
Red paint had been applied with the same heavy hand as on my car, leaving the impression that the walls were bleeding. The symbols and strange words were everywhere—on the walls, the carpet, the ceiling, the refrigerator door. Over and over and over again until there was no single image to make out, only a kaleidoscope of evil that showed from every surface.
“Let’s go,” Alex ordered, his hand fastening around my arm to pull me away, but I stood rooted to the spot. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Alex was cursing beside me, and then suddenly his arms were around me, lifting me up to carry me the short distance back to my apartment—shouldering the door closed behind him before settling me into the armchair. His arms slipped from me when he straightened, and my hand shot out, fingers wrapping his wrist to keep him from leaving my side.
“What did she mean?” I asked him, my voice sounding hollow, “They have me. What does it mean?”
His expression tightened. “They don’t have you,” he said, “Fuck that. Gina doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
My fingers gripped harder and I pulled, trying to drag him closer to me, desperate now. “What does it mean.”
“Look, Avery…there’s bad shit that goes down in Dust. Other places, they have gangs, riots, bad cops. We don’t have that here. What we have, it’s worse.”
I knew. Deep down, I knew what he wanted to say, but he paused, his jaw clenching, staring through the window at the setting sun.
“I did go back to my car today.” His gaze shot to mine, a sudden tension in his features that only deepened as I told him what happened—everything that I could remember, except for anything to do with the mark on my shoulder. Everything but that. Part of me hoped that he’d tell me he knew the man who’d followed me there, even if it meant that Alex had shared the information he’d known, but just like Gina, he shook his head when I asked.
“It’s a cult,” he said finally, “At least that’s what we call them. They call themselves Belial’s Templar. Stupid fucking name, don’t you think?”
“Belial?” The name sounded ancient and almost dirty on my lips when I spoke it. I didn’t want to say it again. “What does it mean?”
He paused before answering. “Darkness. Evil. That’s what they worship.” I’d guessed as much from the painted messages and the guys in the bar, but there was something even more terrifying to hear him speaking of it so plainly.
“I don’t like to believe it,” he went on. “Evil spirits and demons. It sounds like a bunch of made-up shit to me, but there’s enough weirdness that happens that makes it hard to ignore. More than just buildings being tagged. People disappear. Or die.”
“Why don’t they leave?” I asked, “Why don’t you leave?”
“I can’t,” he shrugged, “Not with my family here. My mom needs me. Gina needs me. Asking my mom to leave would be like moving a fucking mountain. So, I stay. But you don’t have to.”
“Gina told you my money was stolen?” He nodded, and I dropped my gaze, staring down at my hands. “I want to go,” I said. “The problem is, even if I had a car, I lost everything else. No matter where I am, I’m starting over with nothing.”
I waited for it, then, dreading the moment when he would ask if there was someone I could call, someone I could ask for help. I was saved by a heavy knock at the door that made me jump. I looked at Alex wide-eyed, and he shook his head, placing a finger to his lips before pointing towards the bathroom. I nodded and stood, moving as quickly as I could to slip inside and shut the door to a crack, doing my best to listen over the pounding of my heart.
Alex moved once I was in place, his steps heavy across the floor. There was a pause when I knew he was looking through the peephole, then the sound of the door opening.
“Yeah?” His voice was gruff, unwelcoming.
“I’m looking for Avery North.”
Ice-water. If someone dumped it over me, it would have had less of an effect than the moment those words came through the door. Avery North. North.
Since coming to Dust, I’d given my first name to Connie. To Gina. To Alex. My pseudo-stalker had known it. And yet, I’d never once said my last name. Never enough for someone to look me up, to know more than the bare minimum. I didn’t know the voice, but I knew the tone. Confident. Official. It was the detective. And he knew who I was.
“She’s not here,” Alex answered.
“Do you know when she’ll be back? I need to speak with her.”
“Nope.” Alex’s fuck-the-man tone of voice was a perfect counterpart to the detective’s.
“I see. And you are?”
“A friend.”
“Right.” The frustration was obvious then. A pause, then a sigh that carried across the room. “I’ll try back later.”
Alex closed the door without another word and I sagged back, reaching for the towel rack on the wall to keep myself upright. Too much. Today had been too fucking much. I heard Alex’s footsteps just before the door pushed open.
“He’s gone. It’s safe.”
I stared at him, glassy-eyed, fighting back the urge to laugh hysterically. I was afraid that once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. There was nowhere safe. I’d run for two weeks and stopped for two days. That was all the time it had taken for them to catch up with me. Two fucking days.
Alex was still watching me, so I pushed myself from the wall and out of the bathroom on numb legs. I walked to the door and peered through the peephole to see for myself that the hallway was empty, then turned, leaning back against the door. “Today has been shit,” I told him.
He held up a card identical to the one that had been slipped under my door, then flipped it onto the counter. “I wouldn’t worry about the cop, he’s probably hitting up everyone in the building.”
“Yeah,” I said dully, “That’s probably it.”
Alex raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, closing the distance between us until his body brushed mine. I looked up at him; the light from the window was filtering dusk, casting sepia tones across his skin and my breath caught as his fingers threaded into my hair, his thumbs running gently over my cheekbones. He smelled of sandalwood and spice and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to bury my face into his chest and feel his arms close around me. His hands held me captive, though—his gaze searching my face, dark eyes smoldering.
“I like you, Avery North.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move—I could only wait as he bent, my eyes closing at the first press of his lips to mine, softly at first, then growing in intensity when he pinned me against the door. Molten heat took over my body, and when I opened my mouth to gasp I felt the first touch of his tongue pushing past to taste me. My hands moved then, wrapping his body to take fistfuls of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. All the fear, all the worry—everything disappeared in those moments, until there was only ragged breath and need. It could have gone on forever, but too soon he was pulling back, breaking the kiss with a groan.
“I have to go, Gina is going to kill me,” he muttered, pressing his lips to the top of my head with a rough chuckle before pushing away. “I was supposed to come right back.”
“Right,” I agreed, “Of course. You should go.” I knew I needed to step away from the door, so he could leave, but I was having trouble moving. He hadn’t gone far, and I clung to him, partly to keep myself from sliding to the floor in a desperate heap. Only my worry for Gina kept me from winding myself around him again, and it was that thought that finally pushed me into motion.
“You need another lo
ck on this door,” he said, echoing my thoughts from earlier in the day, “I’ll stop by in the morning with my tools and put one on for you. I did one for Gina, you’ll feel safer that way.”
“Thank you.”
“Any excuse.” He leaned, stealing one last fast kiss before disappearing, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
“Fuck,” I told the door, banging my head against the wood. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
Darkness. It seemed to go on forever, turning the space around me into nothing. I was nothing.
Come to me.
The voice filled the void. It filled me. Echoing in the vastness, fading and swelling again until it became all that I was. All I ever could be. A step into black. Then another. The voice guided me, called to me and I could not escape it. It was my purpose.
Come to me.
A sudden blaze of light pierced my eyes, and I threw my arms up in sudden fear—squinting around in confusion. I knew this place. I knew…
Come…to…me….
The realization of where I was hit me as the voice finally faded, the echoes drifting away between the buildings, swept by the sudden wind that cut through the parking lot, blowing hot against my face though it left me shivering. Before me, the factory warehouses loomed, their fronts illuminated by the bright light pulsing off the asphalt. As I watched, the doors to the buildings swung slowly and silently open, revealing an interior as pitch black as the nothing I’d come from moments before.
I heard it then. The chanting had returned, the sound seeping from the open doors, crawling across the broken pavement to wind its way around my body, claiming me as its own. I moved forward without thought towards the open doors, pulled by the darkness I belonged to. Another step, then another. The doors grew in size when I neared them, dripping jaws opening to devour me once I was inside. They welcomed me. I was—
Avery.
This voice was different. Familiar. The warehouses wavered before me and I stopped, staring in confusion.
Avery. Wake up.
With an effort, I turned my head and saw him there, leaning against the trunk of my car, watching me. With every pulse of the light around us, I could see the glint of the silver lighter in his hand, turning relentlessly. The wind gusted again, stronger than before, whipping my hair up in hot, stinging lashes against my cheeks and eyes, blinding me. The chanting grew louder then, and I stumbled forward, the sound swelling in volume. The darkness reached for me, invisible tendrils of triumph snaking across my skin.
Dammit, Avery. Light flashed around me again. He was standing in front of me now, blocking my path to the doors. The wind howled in protest, pummeling me from every direction like blasts from an unseen furnace, and yet he remained untouched. Solid while the rest of the world pulsed and flickered. You have to fight. Do you understand me? You’re stronger than this. Fight!
Fight. The concept hadn’t occurred to me. The void didn’t allow any thought at all to enter my mind, save one—Come to me. I stared at the man before me. At the unwavering gaze he locked onto mine. Fight.
I struggled then, pulling back against the darkness—stumbling backwards and away from the doors. The chanting grew louder, and I cried out when the mark on my shoulder began to burn, a familiar searing pain that yanked me forward like I was attached to an invisible leash. My hands tore at my clothes, fighting at the unseen force that drew me forward.
Fight.
Good girl, he said with satisfaction, taking a step to match each one I made in retreat. Now wake the fuck up. He surged before me suddenly, his hand flashing out before I had time to react, the stinging blow catching me hard across my cheek.
Wake up!
My eyes flew open with the sudden, throbbing pain that flared through the left side of my face, my hands raising to cup my cheek, staring wide-eyed into my empty apartment. Light was streaming through the window, and it was only after several moments that I was able to hear the knocking over the pounding of my heart and ragged breath. Someone was at my door.
I sat up, my jacket falling into my lap. Apparently, I’d passed out on the bed last night, fully clothed, with my jacket pulled over me like a blanket. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time, and I slipped from the bed to tiptoe as silently as I could across the floor and look out through the peephole.
Alex stood just outside, staring back at me with a raised eyebrow and a slightly impatient expression.
I let out a long breath of relief and opened the door wide to let him in. “Sorry,” I told him as he walked past me, “I was asleep.”
“I see that,” he grinned, “I like this sexy bed head look.” He was carrying a tool box and a large plastic container, and he set both on the kitchen counter before turning back to catch me around the waist and kiss me hard. It hurt my sore jaw, but I didn’t complain, my arms winding around his neck to press against him, letting the heat from his body chase away the last chills of my dream.
“I’ve been thinking about doing that since I left last night.” His voice was rough when he finally started to pull back, and I clung to him—probably longer than I should have, burying my face in his shoulder. “Hey.” His hands slid around me, holding me against his chest. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Yes.” My words were muffled against his shirt. “Just a bad dream.” He was silent, and I looked up after a moment to find him smiling down at me. “What?”
“You’re cute in the morning.”
“Ugh. Don’t tell me that before I’ve brushed my hair.”
He laughed and pointed at the plastic container. “My mom sent tamales. Be warned, they have a kick.”
I immediately pulled the top off to look inside, then took a tamale from the box and peeled off the corn husks to eat it over the sink. “I’m starving,” I said around the first bite, “Please tell her thank you. I didn’t eat last nig---holy shit.” Fire. My mouth was on fire. “Hot!”
“I warned you,” Alex was laughing, and I glared at him through the tears streaming down my face.
“That’s a kick?” I choked out, and he ruffled my hair.
“Gotta toughen you up, North.”
I paused at his easy use of my last name, forcing a smile when he pulled his toolbox from the counter and squatted down next to the door. He pulled out a new deadbolt, and I stepped forward. “Let me pay you for that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he answered, digging around in his toolbox, “I had an extra one.”
I watched him for a moment in silence, my fingers raising to my still-burning lips. He’d given over the tank and khakis for a tight, light green crewcut t-shirt, worn baggy jeans and sneakers. It would be so simple to cross the room and slip my fingers beneath the neckline of his shirt to lightly stroke over the chiseled muscle of his chest. My fingers strayed to my jaw, frowning at the tenderness beneath my touch. Something triggered in the back of my mind as I looked to the bed where my jacket still lay, flickering through the shadows of a dream.
Fight.
The word rose unbidden, my breath catching as my hand instinctively moved to cup my face.
“I need to take a shower,” I said suddenly, “Are you okay if I leave you?”
“I’m good here.” Alex glanced over and raised an eyebrow, “Is something wrong?”
“No.” I instantly put on a smile, “Not at all. I just can’t be standing here like this when you’re over there like…that.” I gestured at all of him, and he grinned.
“I’m not complaining,” he said, “But I need to take off after this. Gotta job.”
I paused, the realization dawning that I had no idea what he did. I knew I should ask, but I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to start sharing yet. I did like him, and I was definitely attracted to him. The problem was, those were the exact reasons that I had ended up in Dust to begin with.
“I’ll see you later then?”
“Yeah.” He’d pulled a drill from the bag and hit the motor a few times e
xperimentally. “I’m working the door for Gina tonight.”
“Thank you for all this, by the way. I really appreciate it.”
He gave me the same slow smile that made me want to wrap myself around him, his eyes darkening, and I ran into the bathroom before I dragged him in with me, waiting for the noise of his drill cover the sound when I turned the lock on the door. The overhead light was dim and the mirror above the tiny sink old, but it was enough to see by when I leaned in to examine my face, half expecting to see a bruise where it hurt. There was nothing, though—just a dull ache between fragments of a nightmare. I stripped off my shirt to look at my mark, frowning at the redness around it that was spidering out from the wound. It was hot beneath my touch, and I cursed under my breath. From the other room the sound of the drill stopped, and I quickly turned on the water to start my shower before he might knock.
Alex was gone when I finally emerged from the bathroom, a shiny new deadbolt on the door with a key waiting for me on the counter. I examined it for a moment, pleased at the extra sense of security I’d been hoping for, then dug through my bags for something clean to wear. My fingers closed on a small box at the bottom of my duffle bag and I pulled it free, gazing at it for a long moment before opening it, swallowing hard and sitting down on the edge of the bed to stare at the engagement ring inside. It wasn’t much to look at—a small diamond set simply on a gold band, but I remembered how happy I’d been when I’d first slipped it on my finger, and the devastation I’d felt when I’d taken it off. That had been weeks ago now, though, and I found that whatever sentiment I tried to drag to the surface was buried too deep beneath the fear and anger I’d experienced since.
“Fuck it.” I snapped the lid closed and dressed quickly, then slipped the tiny box into the pocket of my jacket. I pulled a battered old wristwatch from the suitcase that had belonged to my father, checking the time before strapping it on. Gina wanted me at the bar at three, and it was just after noon now. Plenty of time to do a little emotional purging, and after the last few days, I felt I was due.
Into Dust: The Industry City Trilogy - Book One Page 6
