Alix couldn’t believe the turn of events, but she wasn’t about to question the good fortune. Hank’s insurance had covered the damages, and the increase in clientele was at an all-time high. Everyone at the shop couldn’t have been happier—everyone except Alix.
She stared at the TV screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that she couldn’t get out of her head. Those crystal blue eyes of his had bored holes into her dreams every night since he’d backed away from her. His face painted with shock and fear.
The memory of that look wasn’t the only thing keeping her up at night. When she wasn’t scrambling away from his penetrating stare, she was ripping his clothes off in heated passion. She’d wake up burning with sweat, needing him so badly, that her softness ached from the lack of being filled. Alix couldn’t understand it. She’d never pined over a guy like this before, never felt so guilty, or responsible. She couldn’t even say his name without tremors running through her.
Alix shook off the memory. I’m goin’ crazy, she thought, as she munched on more chips. There’s no other explanation.
The news coverage of the small town where Troy said he was off to had lessened over the past week. Alix had watched every snippet of footage she could, but not a single shot of the footage found its way to an ambulance driver or EMT. The only things the journalists appeared to be interested in were the victims of the tragedy, and the police trying to regain control of the situation.
From beyond her windows, various honks, sirens, and street noise lessened, as the evening stretched deeper into the night. Alix turned the volume down once the weather came on. The forecast stated that a cold front was moving in with a heavy chance of snow.
Great, she thought bitterly.
The digital snowflakes falling behind the weatherman made her shudder. She snuggled deeper into the soft pillows she had encased herself in, waiting for the weariness that lurked on the fringes of her consciousness to rush in, and carry her off to sleep. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier until they finally closed.
The thoughts of a similar, overcast evening drifted to the fore of her hazy mind—the night her gift had manifested. The police hadn’t told Alix much the night her mother died, just that she had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest. That night Alix had unleashed something she didn’t think possible. Some part of herself had lashed out to ease the horrible pain that surely would have devoured her from the inside. She had bound up the agony of her loss into a symbol of her own making, and willed it out into the world. Her first imprint had landed on the same street where her mother’s body had been found. No one had died from the explosion that followed, but plenty had gotten hurt. Alix still didn’t fully understand what had happened. But, the one thing she had figured out over the years of dealing with the gift was that her emotions could be dangerous. Her feelings could amp up the intensity of her power to devastating proportions. The incident with Troy being a perfect example.
The makings of a killer headache pressed against Alix’s temples, and her eyes fluttered open. The trailing thoughts of Troy haunted her. She had thought she was in control that evening in the tattoo parlor. A little turned on maybe…okay, a lot turned on, but in control until she had touched Troy. The sensation of bliss that had rocked her mind and body, had blown that control, and everything else, right out the window.
She would have to be more careful, and possibly even never use her gift again. She scoffed at the thought the instant it came to her. But still, an extended break from imprinting wouldn’t be a bad idea, or unreasonable. Maybe I can take a few days off, she thought while rubbing the side of her head.
A series of heavy knocks at the door thundered through the apartment.
Alix snapped to attention. She looked around the room, dazed. It was still dark outside, paid advertising chattered on the TV, and the familiar furnishings of her apartment surrounded her.
The knocking came again, this time more insistent. “Alix?!” a muffled voice called. “Alix, please. Open the door!”
Alix rolled off the sofa, muting the TV as she fell. She scrambled to her feet, and probed the ground with her toes to find her furry slippers. She shuffled across the room to look through the peephole, but before she could, another round of knocking shook the door.
“Alix!” the voice cried. “Please!”
Alix squinted at the tiny dot of light coming from the peephole on her door.
It was Sam.
“Wait a sec!” Alix yelled. “Geez.” She fumbled with the locks and finally got the damn things opened. She pulled the door free. “What the hell S—”
Sam burst into the room shoving Alix back with the force of her entry. The panicked girl then whirled around, and slammed the door shut. Her breath came in ragged gasps, as if she’d been running. She frantically locked everything back into place. Once the door was secured, Sam slowly slid down its surface to rest her knees on the hardwood floor, then her body began to shake with racking sobs.
The grogginess that had clouded Alix’s thoughts from moments before cleared in an instant. She rushed over to Sam, and took hold of the girl’s bobbing shoulders. “Hey,” Alix whispered softly. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Sam’s soft sobs became a wailing hurricane at that point.
Alix gently stroked her friend’s hair. “Let’s get you to the couch.” She pulled Sam to her feet, and walked her over to the sofa.
Sam clung to her like a child afraid of the dark.
That’s when Alix noticed the blood. It was splattered across Sam’s face in the shape of a wedge, as if it had been sprayed by a high-pressure hose. What the hell? Alix thought. She’d never seen her friend like this before. “Were you mugged? Are you all right? What happened?”
Her friend’s only answer was more sobs.
Alix helped Sam onto the couch, then hurried to the kitchen. She poured a cup of coffee from the pot she’d made earlier. She popped it in the microwave for a few seconds. Her gaze lingered on Sam. She wasn’t sure what her friend had gone through, but she knew for a fact it hadn’t been good.
The timer dinged for the coffee.
Alix grabbed the mug out of the microwave, and immediately regretted it. The heat seared her hand, and she jerked away. A dark smear crossed the cup where she’d touched it. She slowly turned her hands over to see the blood covering her palms. It must have come from Sam. Her stomach rolled, and she staggered to the sink to put her hands under the faucet. After scrubbing the blood away, Alix grabbed a towel, and turned back toward Sam.
Her friend sat shivering, eyes darting every-which-way.
“Are you cut?” Alix asked, amazed at the amount of blood. She grabbed her cell phone, as she left the kitchen. “Dammit Sam, are you cut?!”
Sam shook her head.
Alix sat down next to her rattled friend, and offered her the cup of coffee. “I think we need to call the police.”
Sam took the mug, but didn’t drink from it. She looked over at Alix, terror evident in her eyes. “They can’t help.”
“What do you mean?” Alix frowned. “What happened to you?”
The tears that streamed from Sam’s eyes had made her mascara run down her cheeks in two straight lines. Combined with her disheveled hair, and the blood, she looked like a deranged clown from one of those bad horror flicks. “They’re all dead,” she whispered.
“The police?!” Alix’s brows rose in disbelief. “I don’t think—”
“At the shop!” Sam screamed. “Everybody at the shop is dead!” Coffee splashed out of the mug, as Sam came to her feet. “We gotta get out of here!”
“Whoa, hang on a minute!” Alix managed. The thought of everyone at the shop being dead was a bit much for her to believe. She patted the sofa where Sam had been sitting. “You need to slow down, and tell me what happened.”
Sam looked ready to bolt. She clutched the coffee mug so tightly, Alix thought it might shatter in her hands. “You don’t get it. I just came from there, and those…things were chasing me.
They’re probably at the door right now!” Sam’s expression distorted into a silent cry of horror. Her eyes cut to the door, and she sank to her knees for the second time, whimpering.
Alix had never seen someone paralyzed by fear before, but she figured Sam was experiencing it full on at that moment. The poor girl was delirious. Alix began pressing numbers on her cell. “I’m calling the police.”
Sam slowly shook her head. “It won’t matter.”
The thin line of light that peeked under the door from the hallway darkened, as something passed by out in the hall. It came to a stop just in front of the door. Sam froze.
Two sharp knocks broke the sudden silence.
Alix stopped pressing numbers, and got to her feet.
“They’re here,” Sam whispered.
“Dammit Sam,” Alix hissed. “Stop it, you’re freakin’ me out.” She stepped around her frozen friend, and headed for the door. Something wrapped around her ankle, causing her to stumble to a halt. “Crap!”
Sam gripped Alix’s leg like a vice. “Don’t open the door.”
Alix knelt. “It’s gonna be all right Sam. Relax.” She pried Sam’s steely grip open, and scooted away. “We’re gonna figure this thing out.” She went to the door, pressed her hands against it, took a deep breath, and slowly put her eye to the peephole.
Troy waited in the hallway. The number 307 sat neatly etched into the brass knocker on the door in front of him. His doubts about being at the right place had pretty much evaporated. He had been fairly sure that the information his friend down at the police station had given him was correct, but seeing the short blonde run into the building as he pulled up to the apartment dispelled any doubts. Troy remembered her from the tattoo parlor. She and Alix had seemed close friends.
An image of the purple-haired tattoo artist danced to the forefront of his thoughts. Alix had knocked his senses sideways the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The tight curves of her figure, and stunning pale-green orbs she had checked him out with, had broken through his defenses instantly. The conversation that followed was the sort he could have spent a lifetime enjoying. She was the girl he wanted to know. She was the one he wanted to be close to.
But then she had touched him, and all hell broke loose.
Alix had done something to him that couldn’t be explained. It was the reason he had sought her out, or so he told himself. His pretense for coming to her doorstep had nothing to do with the fact that he saw her in his dreams every night, or that he hungered for her every time he awoke from those dreams. No, he was here for answers about why he should have died on his trip down south last week, but didn’t.
The heavy oak door creaked open to reveal the girl that had enveloped his dreams for the last two weeks. The fringe of purple on black hair was just as striking as he remembered. Her green eyes were opened wide, while her lips had parted in surprise. The oversized pajamas that hung from her sensual form did nothing to dampen her allure.
Troy strangled a lust-filled moan that tried to escape his throat at the sight of her. He closed his eyes briefly, and fought back the urges of desire building within him. His mouth went dry, but he managed to say, “We need to talk.”
The door creaked as she pulled it further open. “Yeah, okay.”
The sound of her voice stroked Troy’s desire for her to greater heights. Calm yourself, he thought angrily. He took a moment to find his center, and then walked into her apartment.
Her scent magnified by a hundred fold once he was inside. The girl’s voice had been tempting enough, but the smell of her made Troy grind his teeth in frustration and restraint.
“You did something to me,” Troy growled, as he turned to face her. “What was it?”
Alix flattened her back against the door, as it closed, eyes still wide. Her expression held a mixture of fear and wonder.
Perhaps she had misinterpreted his hunger for her as anger. Troy was having trouble distinguishing the difference himself. Whatever she had done to him, it had turned his world upside down, and he wanted it fixed. “What did you do?!” he repeated.
Alix flinched at his tone. “I…I don’t know exactly.”
“Lock the door for God’s sake!” Sam screeched.
Troy whipped around. He’d completely forgotten about Alix’s friend coming into the building. His jaw dropped upon laying eyes on her.
Blood had been splattered across her face and clothing. She huddled on the floor, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Her breathing was rapid and shallow.
The haze of lustful desire that currently plagued Troy shattered, as instinct and years of job experience took over. He moved to Sam’s side, his hands probed her body for injury. “Are you hurt?” Her skin was cold and clammy, while her pulse was weak.
Sam just stared at the door, but slowly shook her head.
“What happened to you?” Troy asked. He took of his jacket, and wrapped it around her.
“I think she was attacked,” Alix said, as she came up and knelt on the other side of Sam. “But I can’t get a clear answer from her.”
“Well, she doesn’t appear to be injured, but she’s definitely in shock,” Troy said, finishing his inspection. “Did you call the police?”
“I was about to just before you knocked,” Alix replied.
“I’ll call,” Troy said. “We can meet them at the hospital.”
“Okay. Let me change clothes.”
Troy got to his feet, and pulled out his cell. He called the police, and then the hospital. Within a few minutes, he was able to find out who was on duty. He didn’t know the guys, but that didn’t matter for this deal.
Alix came back into the room with a bag and a set of keys. She had a long, dark gray scarf with skulls on it, wrapped around her neck. Her shapely torso was covered by a skin-tight shirt and a heavy, leather jacket—both as black as her hair. Blue jeans hugged her curves all the way down to her black, knee-high boots. A multitude of straps and buckles ran up the outer sides of the thick heeled stompers.
Troy’s gaze lingered on her hips, and the gaudy belt buckle.
“What?” Alix asked after a moment.
Troy jerked his gaze away from Alix’s lower half, and locked eyes with her, only to find himself at a loss for words.
“We’re too late,” Sam mumbled.
Alix’s frown joined Troy’s, as they both looked down at Sam, and then followed her gaze to the door.
Shadows, cast from the light under the door, danced across the floor. A low hissing sound echoed from the hallway, just before the door exploded, showering them with splinters of oak.
Alix hit the floor and rolled. Shards of wood streaked through the air like a volley of tiny arrows. Her leather jacket absorbed most of the sharp debris, but the back of her right hand stung from the impact of a dozen or more splinters.
Sam screamed, and Troy cursed.
Alix jumped to her feet. A sudden oily feeling slithered over her nerves. The unclean sensation, as well as the accompanying headache, was almost familiar. She choked back the urge to puke, and glanced around.
Her friend hadn’t moved other than to curl up into a ball. But Troy had been blown over the sofa, and currently scrambled to his feet. Splinters lined his shoulders, and a trace of blood dotted his cheek.
“Fire escape?!” Troy demanded when their eyes met.
Alix knew what he was getting at, but she couldn’t leave Sam. “Get up!” she cried, as she raced to her friend. She didn’t know if Sam had heard her, or if the terrified girl was even in the condition to do anything about it if she had. Not caring which, Alix took two handfuls of bloodied sweater, and yanked the girl to her feet.
A horrid wailing came from the hallway.
“Get out of here!” Troy yelled, as he ran toward the door.
Alix hauled Sam over to the window. She fumbled with the lock, her fingers stiff from fear. The latch finally popped open. She grabbed hold of the sill, and yanked upward with all of her might, until the window came free with an ear n
umbing screech.
Cold air poured into the room. The railings and steps of the fire escape where already covered in snow a couple inches thick. Streetlights illuminated the pavement below, their shimmering beams of light visible against the sheet of falling snow.
Another monstrous cry sounded from the hall, answered by Troy’s roar of challenge.
“Dammit Sam, move!” Alix shoved the catatonic girl through the window.
Once Sam had stumbled onto the metal platform just outside, Alix followed, pushing her friend toward the snow-covered steps. Sam staggered down the stairs, like a drunkard.
Alix risked a glance into her ruined living room.
Two silhouettes battled at the broken entrance to her apartment. Other figures darted across the hallway behind the grappling pair, but were lost to sight, as Alix’s favorite softback chair shattered against the head of whatever Troy was fighting. The massive, shadowy figure cantered to the side from the blow, exposing proportions that weren’t entirely human. The arms were too long, and its head and neck sloped like that of a gorilla. Heavy ridges protruded from and covered its broad body, similar to a suit of scale armor from the middle ages.
Alix recoiled from the sight.
Troy took hold of the unbalanced beast, and threw it across the room with inhuman strength. His heaving chest was exposed, as he twisted her way, shirt torn to ribbons. The tattoo she had imprinted on him glowed brightly with orange light like that of steaming coals.
Alix gasped. What have I done. She took an involuntary step toward the window. She wasn’t sure if she should, or even could, help Troy.
The creature that had been pitched aside so easily got to its feet. It stood inches away from the window. The suit of armor was actual scales of bone. It shook its head and roared at Troy, huge canines protruding from the bearish muzzle.
Alix froze. There’s no way that thing is real, she told herself, as she struggled for calm. She tore her gaze away from the monster, and saw two more intruders come in through the broken doorway behind Troy. They appeared to be human, but who could say what they really were at this point.
Alix (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #1) Page 3
