Under Sunless Skies (Starlight Saga Book 2)

by Sherry Soule

  He’s going to kill me.

  My body tenses and my pulse soars. “Okay! Stop! I’ll stay away from Hayden if you let me go.”

  Xavier releases my hair. “Sure. You can leave now. I hope I’ve made my point.”

  I rub my aching scalp. Tears sting my eyes. When my hand touches the door handle, Xavier raises an arm and punches me in the temple. My body spins around and I hit the ground like a paper sack. My head knocks against the side of the Jetta, solid and unyielding. I grit my teeth against the tender throbbing in my forehead. Everything funnels as darkness threatens to claim me.

  I stagger to my feet. “You promised to let me go!”

  “Yeah, about that, I lied.” He holds up one hand with two fingers crossed.

  Ugh, this is like a horror movie trope nightmare!

  “Well, I lied too, asswipe!”

  With a surge of adrenaline, I make a fist and drive my knuckles with a crushing force against his nose. A loud crunching noise, then a yelp. I spin on my heel with my fists raised. His nose spews red all down the front of his clothes. Before Xavier can slam my face into the hood again, I scream at the top of my lungs, the sound wrenching from my throat like a crazed banshee.

  Someone must’ve heard me screaming. Called the police.

  “You’re only making this worse.” His voice lowers, lacing his words with venom. “I came here to warn you, but that might not be enough to protect my family’s rightful place among the clan.”

  Xavier lifts his arm and backhands me across the cheek, and those stars turn into a swirling universe. I flop to the ground in a crumpled heap, the strength leaving my legs. Lying on the ground, I gaze up with blurry eyes at Xavier, who looms over me. He swings out and kicks me hard in the ribs. I wail in pain and cradle my chest, curling up into a ball.

  “Son of a bitch!” a familiar voice rumbles.

  Somewhere above me, the reverberations of a fight—punches being thrown, cracking bones, and loud cursing. Two men brawl in the shadows cast by the streetlamps. My brawny rescuer advances, pummeling Xavier in the face and torso with inhuman strength. The intensity and brute force is scary, fierce.

  “You have obligations! You must stop these attachments with lesser beings,” Xavier says, spitting blood onto the ground. “Fighting me is not going to change that, son.”

  I squint through a puffy right eye, my fingers grazing the tender skin around it, at Hayden. He grabs Xavier by his collar, hauling him off the ground, then dropping him onto the pavement.

  “I’m well aware of my responsibilities, but thanks for the reminder,” Hayden says.

  A powerful flash of bluish light causes me to lift a hand to shield my eyes, followed by a thunderous noise. An electrical charge singes the atmosphere. Xavier has vanished. He’s there one second and gone the next.

  Hayden crouches beside me. “Are you all right?” A gentle hand touches my arm. “I got you. He’s gone and everything’s okay now.”

  Nodding, I try to speak, but wooziness steals my breath.

  “Sloane.” He removes his hand. “Stay with me. I’m calling an ambulance.” He takes out his phone and dials, then speaks briefly into the receiver before hanging up.

  “T-thank you.” My voice sounds croaky. “When it comes to rescues, you rule.”

  “I just wish you didn’t need my protection again so soon.” He shifts beside me. “Dammit, I’m to blame for this. How badly are you hurt?”

  “My throat.” Tentatively, I touch my forehead, my fingers come away sticky with blood. “And my ribs…owww.” I slump back down.

  “Just lie still until the paramedics arrive,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

  “I, um…” I lick my dry lips and try again. “I went to the movies. The guy said he needed help…then he attacked me.”

  Hayden huffs out a breath. “You should’ve waited for me to go with you. I warned you it wasn’t safe.”

  My body shivers, the adrenaline crashing. “A little late for a lecture.”

  Sirens screech and wail in the night.

  Hayden sits on the ground and cradles me in his arms. “The ambulance should be here any minute.”

  The hard pavement beneath me is killing my joints and making my back twinge, so I sit up between his legs, still partially leaning on Hayden. “That…man said his name was Xavier, and he seemed more alien than human. He told me to stay away from you.” My throat burns and the skin hurts when I touch it. “Do you think Arcane was behind this? It doesn’t seem like something he’d do. He could’ve been a relative of Tama…”

  Hayden draws in a sharp breath. “I doubt it.”

  I swallow, but a wave of fresh pain scrapes my sore throat. Darkness dots my vision. “Why do think he attacked me?”

  His mouth eases into a sudden, arresting smile. “Maybe he waits for stupid girls who help scary strangers in parking lots alone after dark.”

  I cannot laugh, my head is too heavy to lift, and numbness has overtaken my limbs. My body molds into his, and my eyes drift closed.

  Hayden holds me tighter. “He might be a traitor who works for Sector Thirteen.”

  “Yeah, but why is he hating on me?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” He brushes a light kiss on my forehead. “Hold on, Sloane. You’re safe now. I’m not going anywhere.”

  My body slides downward—not even in a ladylike swoon—but I’m helpless to stop it, then the lights dim.

  TWELVE

  It sounds so cliché, but I wake up in the hospital. I blink, trying to familiarize myself with the surroundings. A stuffy room with cold grey walls. Monitors beeping and thin tubes attached to the veins in my arms are like a scene from a Sci-Fi movie. I wrinkle my nose at the intense odor of antiseptic and the metallic tang from all the stainless steel equipment.

  I gaze down at myself and cringe. I’m dressed in an ugly, faded hospital gown that’s…pink! I try to remain calm, but I’m afraid that at any moment I’ll break out into hives. Lifting my arm, I spy an ID bracelet secured to my wrist. My skin is coated with dirt and mud, like I just came crawling out of a coalmine.

  Shifting on the twin bed causes my head and ribcage to throb painfully, accompanied by a severe ache in my hip and shoulder. A thin cotton blanket rests at my feet and the heavy drapes are closed over the windows. Hayden lingers near the door with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. I keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn’t leave before I get a chance to talk with him.

  A doctor and three exhausted-looking interns enter the room to assess my wounds. The doctor introduces himself, picks up my chart, and recites the list of injuries—black eye, bruised ribs, numerous scrapes, and bruises—to his students as if I’m a corpse on a slab. Luckily, nothing is broken.

  Then a nurse in pink scrubs hurries past the doctors as they exit, handing me a cup of water and four pills. “Take these anti-inflammatories for the swelling. Along with something for the pain.” She encourages me with a nod, and I’m more than ready to ease the tenderness and visit La-La Land.

  I swallow the pills, and within minutes, I’m floating near the ceiling. Being a ghost must feel exactly like this…

  Two police officers enter the room for a short visit, asking questions I can’t truthfully answer, so I tell just them it was an attempted mugging and how Hayden saved my life.

  My mom rushes through the door just as the cops walk out. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re awake.” She pulls over a chair, sits and strokes my arm. Despite the friction between us, I let her comfort me. “Jonah’s waiting at home, and I’ve been keeping your dad updated by phone.”

  All I want is to take a hot shower, get out of this hideous hospital gown, and then climb into my own bed, and sleep…for a week.

  Hayden steps out into the corridor, talking with the police. He glances into the room and gives me a gentle, private smile. In my floaty state, I try to return the grin, hoping I don’t look like some drugged up zombie.

  The sputter from a radio attached to one o
f the cop’s shoulders interrupts their interrogation. The dispatcher’s voice crackles through the static, but I can’t hear what’s being said. Something about a bear sighting in the oak forest. Whatever it is, the two police officers charge out of the hospital. Maybe they found my so-called mugger, although I doubt they can catch an insane-teleporting-alien.

  My mom stands and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see if you can get discharged now. I’ll be right back, honey.” Before leaving the room, she stops and faces Hayden, who’s standing in the doorway. “Oh, hello. You must be Sloane’s friend Hayden. I think we met once before.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he says. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Masterson.”

  My mom’s eyes fill with tears and her hands wring the fabric of the cheerfully yellow blouse she’s wearing with tan capris. “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life…” Her voice breaks, and she clears her throat. “I’m so grateful that you happened to be there.”

  I study his carefully manufactured innocent-boy-next-door expression while he talks with my mom. Hayden doesn’t give her any reason to worry or suspect he’s anything other than a concerned friend from school. Damn, he’s good. Maybe I need to take some acting classes.

  “Don’t mention it,” he replies softly. “I was driving to the store for my mother when I saw the assault and pulled into the lot to help.”

  She pats his arm and sniffles. “I’m just glad you were there, Hayden. You’re a hero and Sloane’s lucky to have you as a friend.” My mom brushes past him into the corridor.

  Hayden lounges against the wall by the sheer curtain and an empty bed. He focuses on the humming machinery and avoids meeting my stare.

  A patient sporting a hospital gown in a wheel chair passes the open door, followed by a nurse, dressed in orange scrubs, marching by with a clipboard. The jangle of ringing phones and buzzing machines slices the air.

  “Not that I’m not thankful for the rescue, but what were you doing there?” I search his face. “You know something, don’t you?”

  His brows furrow. “What?”

  “My attacker, Xavier, did you two know each other—”

  “Sloane! Ohmigosh, are you okay?” Viola breezes into the room wearing a tight expression, with Zach close on her heels.

  “I’ll survive.” I point to my black eye and give her a weak smile.

  “Thank the gods, you’re not dead.” She turns to Hayden. “My Ouija board said this would happen.”

  “Viola,” Zach warns. “This isn’t the place.”

  She moves away from Zach and stands on the other side of the hospital bed. Hayden’s younger brother drops like a boulder onto the empty bed beyond the curtain.

  I glance at Zach, scrunching my eyebrows. “What’re you doing here?”

  He wickedly smiles. “Just rubbernecking the train wreck that’s your life.”

  I roll my eyes. “Ha. Ha.”

  Viola hovers near the bed. “Did you see who attacked you?”

  “Uh-huh.” My body feels all floaty and light. Awesome meds. “Super creepy guy with gray skin.”

  Viola moves to the left, and blocks my view of Zach. If the meds weren’t fuzzing out my brain, I would’ve sworn she did it on purpose so I can’t give him the stink eye.

  “That’s weird.” Fidgeting, Viola lifts a cross necklace she’s wearing and sticks the silver end into her mouth. “Any idea what the guy wanted?”

  “It sure wasn’t my wallet or my virtue. This psycho was out for blood,” I say.

  “I’m surprised you’re not totally freaking out,” Viola says, biting the cross. “I know I would be.”

  “Unfortunately, this isn’t my first attack by a crazy person.” I shrug and the gesture sends a sharp ache through my chest. “Maybe I’m getting used to it.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Hayden mutters.

  When I meet his worried stare, my heart skips a beat. This assault is going to put a major setback in our relationship. Like we needed anymore help in that department. He’ll get all weird, then become overly concerned that dating him is too dangerous again. And while that might be true, I still want him to fight for us.

  “I think it’s time I took a self-defense class,” I say, but no one smiles.

  My mom returns and halts in the doorway when she spies the four of us in the room, then she crosses the space to my bedside. “I spoke with the doctor and they’re discharging you in about an hour. We just need to wait for the prescription.” She turns and pats Viola on the shoulder. “Hello, Vi. It was nice of you visit, and bring a friend…” She eyes Zach, who smiles at her big and wide.

  “Sloane’s my bestie, so of course I came.” Viola steps back and scans my mom’s brightly colored outfit. She lifts one hand as if shielding her squinty eyes. “Ugh. That yellow shirt is mentally and emotionally exhausting me!”

  I stifle a laugh because Viola thrives on saying shocking things and she’s got no filter. Plus, I think she’s actually being serious.

  My mom ignores Viola’s usual weirdness. “I’m going to sign the paperwork to get you released, honey. I’ll be right back.”

  If this were a horror movie, I’d warn her to never utter those four deadly words. Because she won’t be right back. She’ll be hanging from the garage door’s doggy hole dripping blood onto the driveway.

  When my mom departs, I turn to Viola. “Thanks for coming. How did you know I was here?”

  Zach sits forward. “Hayden texted me and I told Vi. She wanted to come straight here to check on you.”

  Vi? He’s using her nickname like they’re old friends or…

  No, no, no! I shoot Viola a wide-eyed look of revulsion. Zach and Viola exchange an unreadable glance.

  She grins impishly and shrugs. “We were hanging at the used bookstore when, um, Hayden texted.”

  My eyebrows shoot upward. Ouch, that hurt. Good thing I’m flying high on pain pills or she’d be getting a stern lecture about dating jerks.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” I say in a firm tone.

  “Yes,” she agrees, then taps a finger to her chin. “Hmmm, you know, I’ve always wondered what the nurses’ reactions are after I leave a half-eaten sandwich in a coma patient’s hand.”

  Zach chuckles and Hayden shakes his head with a slight grin.

  “You’re cracked, Vi,” I say with a giggle. “Please tell me you didn’t do that!”

  “Yeah, she did it on the way to your room,” Zach replies, gazing at Viola with a grin. “I think I’m starting to like her twisted sense of humor.”

  “I love you, girl.” Viola reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I’m relieved you’re not dead, although…it would’ve been cool to be called into the morgue to identify a body.” With a wink, she turns and leaves the room.

  Zach gets to his feet to follow her, but pauses by the foot of the bed. “You’re pretty tough for a girl.” He clears his throat. “Glad you’re still alive.”

  Well, knock me over with a stack of horror DVDs.

  Has the apocalypse started? Or did Zach, the ultimate hater, just say something nice? Maybe he’s not the blackmailer after all…

  Zach leaves without another word at my stunned expression. Because, yeah, there are literally no words, and for a future screenwriter, that’s majorly weird.

  Hayden moves closer and stands at the side of my bed. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “I’ll recover.” I yawn, closing my eyes. “I just need to rest.”

  “And stay out of trouble.” He kisses my forehead below the bandage. “I’m sorry this happened.” His words sound heavy with pain and regret.

  I pry open my eyes and frown. “Don’t look at me with those sad puppy dog eyes. This is not your fault, so please don’t go there.”

  With his shoulders drooping, he reaches over hesitantly to sweep the hair behind my shoulder. “Yes, it is, Sloane—”

  “Just stop. We need to find Xavier and get him arrested by Sector Thirteen.”

  I don�
�t add, so I can prove we can be together without anyone getting kidnapped, mind-wiped, or eaten by mutants.

  “I agree.” Hayden sits on the bed and gazes into my eyes. “Because if something happens to you, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  I peer at him through droopy lids. “Then we should work together. It’ll be just like a Marvel team-up. You know, superheroes working together to save the world from evil threats?”

  He laughs, and it’s a deep, throaty sound that makes me smile.

  “I think you’ve been watching too many cheesy superhero movies,” he says.

  We fall silent, the teasing banter fading to black like the ending credits on a film. He rubs his chin with his index finger and thumb in quiet contemplation.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “What is it you’re so worried about? It seems like it’s more than just my safety.”

  He stands, moves to the window, and parts the curtains. A slice of sunlight spills into the room, gleaming on the edge of the metal bedframe. “You don’t want to know the answer to that question,” he murmurs.

  I sit up, suddenly more alert. “I think I do. Now start talking!”

  My mom returns, carrying a white paper sack. “You’re all set. I’ve got your prescriptions. Say your goodbyes to your friend.”

  Damn. Now Hayden can’t tell me whatever it is he’s keeping under wraps.

  With a sigh, I glance at Hayden. “Goodbye, friend.”

  “Take it easy, Peaches. I’ll be close by if you need me.” Hayden backs slowly out the door, his eyes never leaving mine.

  THIRTEEN

  Sunshine peeks through the heavy velvet curtains of my bedroom windows, highlighting dust particles dancing in lazy patterns over the desk. I’ve spent the morning dozing off and on, while the pain meds do their floating on a cloud routine. When I roll onto my side, I grimace as a flash of pain rips through my chest. I lie there for several moments, taking deep breaths, but it hurts something fierce. Having bruised ribs sucks.