Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel

by Gwen Mitchell

  “I can take care of Lex.” Cody’s lip curled. “She’s mine now.”

  “Cody?” I looked from one to the other of them.

  The stranger wrapped an arm around my waist and hoisted me up higher, grumbling something too low for me to hear. I instinctively started to relax into his strong arms, and then snapped slightly more alert.

  Wait…who? What sponsor? Was Cody in AA? And why were we wasting time talking to this guy? I wanted to speak up, to reach out, but my voice was as wispy and thin as my train of thought, and my arms felt like Jell-O.

  “It’s okay, Lex.” Cody glared back, the two of them locked in some silent macho bullshit. “He’ll get you home.”

  He ignored my huff of protest and backed towards the curtained doorway.

  “Home? But I just got here! We didn’t even dance yet!” A giggle erupted from my mouth at the thought of what we’d been doing instead. Damn Pit Viper. Why would people drink those voluntarily?

  “I have to go, Lex.”

  “Go?” I closed my eyes, swallowing hard as the world warbled. What the hell? Why did he always leave me hanging? When I opened my eyes again, Cody had gone. The mystery man pressed his hand to my forehead. Concern didn’t look as sexy on him as mysterious and brooding.

  “What a killjoy.” I threw my arms over his shoulders in rebellion. “I guess you’re my dance partner for the night.”

  He shook his head and tried to slide away. “There won’t be any dancing, I’m afraid.”

  “You’re afraid?” I teased, locking my hands around his neck. “Of little ol’ me? I don’t bite.”

  He paused, frowning down at me, his chiseled features gone stern.

  I realized too late that I was rubbing against him, my inhibitions and common sense still on hiatus. Good riddance, I thought, leaning closer to my sexy rescuer. He felt warm, and smelled like whiskey and leather, with an under-layer of spicy male deliciousness.

  His hands gripped my waist, and my stomach did a happy flip, but then he pushed me away and stared at my face.

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” he answered in a low, warning tone, “but you should be.”

  “You’re probably right. But I don’t feel anything at the moment.” Which was what I had wanted, wasn’t it? To escape my predictable little world for a night? I leaned my head against the wall and slumped down. A part of me still wanted to party all night and burn off the tempest of un-tapped lust Cody had conjured, but my body was clearly not going to cooperate.

  He caught me and slid a knee between my legs to brace me up. His hands brushed lightly up my arms, making me shiver, then pinned my shoulders. He turned my head to the side, baring my neck. I felt a dull ache with the movement, but stayed boneless in his grip, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff.

  “Maybe it didn’t take,” the stranger whispered from inches away. “You haven’t passed out yet. You might make it.”

  I tried to open my eyes and look at him, to ask him what was wrong, and what that meant. It was too much effort. I slumped forward onto his shoulder.

  He shook me back upright. “Lexi, is that your name?”

  “Alex.” The answer fell out of my mouth. I felt like my head might roll off my body if he shook me again.

  “Alex, you have to get out of here and go home. Can you walk?” He let go of me in experiment.

  I started to sink down the wall again. “Maybe later. I just need to lie down for a minute.”

  He caught me and hefted me into his arms.

  I wrapped mine around him, tucking my head under his chin. My whole body was shivering now, like I was burning up with fever. Where was my jacket? I squinted, only half-aware of the music growing louder. I let my eyes flutter closed and swallowed down the dizziness as we wound our way up and up the curvy stairs. Had there been that many stairs on the way down? The rumble of my savior’s voice lulled me as he carried me through the bustling crowd, across the catwalk of death, and into the cold fresh outside air. I didn’t know what he was saying, but just the tone could put me in a trance.

  He set me down on a soft, comfy cushion, and then searched through my pockets.

  “Prewitt Hall in the university district,” he said from far away. I heard a loud bang.

  “Hey, that’s where I live.” I snuggled deeper into the musty-smelling cushion and fell asleep.

  “Prewitt Hall, miss. Miss.” A cold hand shook my knee. I shot awake and scrambled back from the driver who was leaning over his seat. Both of his heads swam in my vision.

  Head — ouch.

  I squeezed mine, feeling like two hot pokers had been embedded in either side. I fumbled for the door handle, lurched out onto the sidewalk, and fell flat on my ass.

  Pit Viper? They should call it the Sledge Hammer. I was going to kill Cody for giving it to me, and for leaving me like that. Dirtbag.

  The door slammed, and I opened my eyes just as the black sedan screeched away from the curb.

  “Jerk.” I crawled on hands and knees towards the dormitory steps. I only made it halfway before puking my guts up in a bright red puddle.

  This was one of those moments where you’re supposed to re-think your choices in life. Unfortunately, I was too close to passing out to think about anything but my bed. An eternity later, I reached the second floor hallway and sank to the matted carpet outside my dorm-room.

  I searched my pockets, banged my head against the door, then regretted it.

  “Fuck!” No keys on me. They were in my jacket, lost somewhere in the den of depravity. I either had to wake Theresa up, or sleep in the hallway. I would never hear the end of this.

  Happy Birthday to me.

  Chapter Two

  I woke in a cold sweat, feeling as if I’d spent the night in a cement grinder. My sheets stunk like a sewer drain. I regretted waking almost as much as I did the entire last twelve hours, but my phone was blaring reggae music and I had to make. It. Stop.

  “Hello?” I croaked.

  “Lex?” Cody’s voice sounded tinny and far away. I glared at the picture of him on my phone. Guess his wasn’t lost after all.

  “You’re an asshole.” I threw one arm over my eyes to block the sunlight filtering through the frilly curtains. I hadn’t thought it was possible, but my headache had actually gotten worse.

  “You’re okay?” Cody sounded genuinely relieved. Wonders never cease.

  “No.” I was tired, and sick, and hurt all over. And if it hadn’t been for those three things, I would have been pissed as hell. Of course, to top it all off, I was grudgingly aware of a disturbing pattern of self-destruction emerging in my life of late. And most of it centered around my choice in boyfriends.

  “Are you there?”

  “Barely.”

  “Look.” He paused long enough for me to wonder if I had dozed off with the phone against my ear. I jolted when he spoke again, which made my muscles cramp up. I hadn’t been so stiff since my last soccer tournament. And I was pretty sure my brain was imploding.

  “I didn’t mean for things to go so far last night,” Cody said. “I’m in trouble, Lex. I have to leave town. I don’t know for how long, but I just…wanted to make sure you were okay and say goodbye.”

  “I’ll be fine.” My eyes started watering over. That was it? Just goodbye. Not I’m sorry, or I’ll miss you, or even, it’s been fun? I should not have been surprised.

  I heard him swallow. “Okay, well…I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Lex.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” I barely kept the tears out of my voice.

  Don’t cry. Do not cry!

  But it didn’t matter. He’d already hung up. As I lay there in my disgusting hangover nest of bedding, shivering, and hurting in every possible way, I had an epiphany. I realized the only bigger asshole in the world than Cody was me, for wanting him in the first place. I kicked off the covers in a surge of fury and threw my phone across the room with a strangled scream. The blood drained away from my head like liquid sludge, making me woozy, and I topp
led back down.

  “You’re such an idiot.” I sniffed. And I had another I-told-you-so coming when my mother found out about this. Hot tears beaded down my face.

  “But that’s enough, cry baby. Get up and move on now.” I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and grunted as I stood. Sort of. The floor whirled around my feet, a kaleidoscope of discarded clothing. I slid down the hall, bumping the wall several times along the way.

  What kind of trouble could Cody be in, anyway? Hopefully the kind that would land him in jail with a cellmate named Bubba, who hated soap and liked pretty boys. It was vicious, but forgiveness had never been my strong suit. I felt like utter crap, and it was easier to blame Cody than to admit I had landed myself in this situation.

  A year older, but no wiser. A night of near-death experiences, the hangover to end all hangovers, and not a single good memory to show for it.

  There was a note from Theresa taped to the bathroom mirror: Told you. Be back Monday.

  Nope, she couldn’t resist. I tore it down and let it flutter to the floor, then leaned on the counter and blinked at my reflection. For once, I saw an exact interpretation of how I felt on the inside — sallow skin, smudged makeup, bloodshot eyes. I splashed some water on my face, but my looks didn’t improve.

  Next, I noticed the giant bruise-slash-hickey on my neck, accented by two rows of blood-filled teeth-marks. It looked like Cody had tried to bite a chunk out of me. That was going to leave a scar for the rest of my life. Should I get Rabies shots?

  “Perfect,” I said, and then threw up in the sink.

  I climbed into the shower, but couldn’t stop shivering, even with the water on full hot. I couldn’t stand or wash, so I crouched there and let the stream beat down on me until the water ran cold.

  Something was off. This was more than just partying too hard.

  What had been in that drink? I wondered as I fumbled for a towel, my teeth chattering. Maybe I was having an allergic reaction. Or maybe…Cody drugged me? As angry as I felt, I couldn’t imagine Cody as the type of guy who would do that. But then again, I didn’t think he was the type of guy who would bite a girl until she bled and abandon her to the care of a total stranger, either.

  Shows what I know.

  And why hadn’t the bite hurt last night? Or bled? I cupped my hand over my neck. It still didn’t hurt. Something was definitely wrong, I realized, as my muscles started to convulse and freeze-up. I staggered through my room like a darted lion, searching for my phone, knowing I only had seconds before I passed out again.

  Seconds was too generous.

  With my next step, the floor careened upward to slam into me.

  You’re not supposed to be able to dream when you’re unconscious, but I did. I dreamt about the stranger from The Sweat Shop. He loomed over me, pressing his large, warm palm to my forehead and whispering something I couldn’t quite hear, his lips moving slower than his voice. His voice. That thick, honeyed rumble…so alluring. I closed my eyes, listening to it rise and fall, before drifting into the black fog of dreamless sleep.

  I woke up in my bed, blissfully relieved of stiffness or pain, but thirstier than I had ever been in my life. I leaned up on my elbows, and though I felt disoriented, everything in the room stayed where it should. Thank God for small mercies.

  It was dark outside, and I wondered how long I had been out. I lifted the covers to see I had been dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and my bed had been stripped underneath me. Theresa’s comforter was draped over me, drenching me in the cloying scent of candied apples.

  “Theresa?” My throat felt dry and scratchy. I looked around for something to drink.

  “Miss Moore?”

  Not Theresa.

  The overhead light came on. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted, then froze.

  “Alexandra Moore?” My tall, dark stranger eyed me from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

  I let a few seconds pass by to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming.

  He didn’t disappear.

  I picked up the nearest solid object and pitched it at him as hard as I could. He ducked behind the doorway as my hairbrush hit the wall, but immediately poked his head back in.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I grabbed the lamp off the bedside table and brandished it like a deadly weapon. “Get out! Who do you think you are? I’m calling the cops!”

  I threw off the covers and edged towards the windowsill, holding the lamp out in front of me. My breath came in unsteady gusts, but I was surprisingly calm, considering I had a psycho-maniac stalker in my bedroom.

  He stared at me, his face a serene mask. “Which one of those questions do you want me to answer first?”

  “Wh-What?” I swallowed hard, my throat constricting with the effort.

  He held his hands out in front of him in a gesture of truce as he stepped into the room. His chocolate brown eyes never left mine.

  “My name is Julian. I’m here to help you. I won’t harm you. I helped you at the club last night, do you remember? An associate of mine brought you home. I took your keys. Your phone is broken, by the way.”

  “I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “What—” I paused and narrowed my eyes at his too-convincing expression of innocence. “No, wait, why are you here?”

  “I told you, I’m here to help you.” He eased farther into the room.

  “So you’re a doctor and you make house calls?”

  He raised his eyebrows, his mouth twitching on one side. “Something like that.”

  He wasn’t wearing the trench coat anymore, but even in just a turtleneck and jeans, he had an air of danger about him. That served as more of an attractant than a deterrent to my mixed-up radar, but something was definitely wrong with this picture. He’d stolen my keys and snuck in to my apartment to find me naked and drugged and he’d just dressed me and tucked me in?

  I straightened up, projecting my mother’s don’t-you-dare-cross-me tone. “Look Mister, you don’t have to give me some bullshit excuse. I don’t care if you’re the patron saint of hangovers — what you did is against the law. It’s called breaking and entering, or, stealing and entering.” My hand tightened around the lamp. “You need to get out of here. Now.”

  “I told you, my name is Julian.” He sounded mildly agitated. “I’m not going to hurt you, Alex. Don’t you want to know what happened to you last night?”

  “Nope. Honestly, I’d rather forget the whole freaky thing.” I tossed the lamp down and backed towards the window.

  “You’re not curious about the marks on your neck? Your bouts of unconsciousness?” He pressed forward.

  I un-latched the window and inched it open, never taking my gaze from his. I shook my head slowly, trying to appear engaged in the conversation. “My loser boyfriend drugged me, bit me, and then left me there with you. Your buddy drove me home, and you got my name and address from my ID. You stole my keys and now you’re here for what — thanks? What do you want?”

  He was clearly nuts. I shuffled my feet, wedging my fingers into the small crack and gripping the edge of the metal window frame.

  “He didn’t drug you.” He sighed, looking at me like someone who just wasn’t getting it. Julian didn’t strike me as the patient type, or the sort of person I wanted to piss off. He took a step closer and paused beside my dresser to look me up and down. “You seem like a tough girl, Alex, so I’m just going to tell you the truth: you’re boyfriend is a— what you would call a vampire. He bit you. You died. And now you’re becoming one too.”

  Yep, definitely nuts. With a side of Fruit Loops. Alarm bells sounded in my head. I whipped around, throwing the window open so fast, it slammed against the frame and flew off the track. I took a deep breath to scream my lungs out, but a large hand clamped over my mouth and nose. Julian wrapped his other arm around my waist and lifted me away from the window with graceful ease. I writhed and twisted as he held me with my feet off the ground, my back pressed to his chest. He didn’t budge.


  “I understand this is hard to believe.” He spoke in low tones, right next to my ear. “But I’m telling you the truth. I’m not going to hurt you. You have my word.”

  And suffocating me was what, foreplay? I whimpered and tried kicking him with my heel, but just grazed his shins. He held on tight, unfazed by my attempts to bruise and scratch his legs and arms.

  “Just relax,” he said, “you’ll see in a few minutes. What’s the longest you’ve ever been able to hold your breath?” He shifted me so I had even less movement. His hand stayed suctioned over my face in an airtight seal.

  My eyes watered over with the realization I was going to die. Murdered by a guy who I — of course — had the hots for.

  The most mundane thoughts started to swirl in my mind, like how I wouldn’t have to do my Micro paper after all. I should have told my mom I loved her more often. Should have listened to her, and this never would have happened. And now I would never get the chance to see Europe, or to find my biological father, or to take belly-dancing lessons. Tears streamed from my eyes.

  But as I thought those things, minutes ticked by. I went on not breathing. A new and shocking reality seeped into my cluttered thoughts and flipped my world on its axis. Nothing hurt. I felt no pressure in my lungs, no pain, no blackout no…heartbeat. I stopped straining to get away and hung there in silence, searching for it. I couldn’t feel or hear anything.

  How could I be alive without oxygen? Six and a half minutes, if the heart kept beating, and then you were out. How could I not have a heartbeat and still be awake? Was I still stuck in a nightmare?

  “I’m going to let you go now. Okay?” Julian whispered in my ear.

  I’d almost forgotten about him. I stared around the room, wishing for everything to melt away into the world it was before. It didn’t. I nodded.

  “Then we’re going to talk about this calmly, no screaming, all right?” His voice had taken on a dulcet tone. Whether I liked it or not, it put me momentarily at ease. I nodded again, and he gradually loosened his hold.