Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve always managed on my own.”

  “You don’t have to do this alone.”

  Liar. A heat flared inside her. “Let go of me.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Get away. He was too close. Too close. “Why would I let myself rely on you? You’re just going to leave or give up at some point.”

  His eyes widened as if he suddenly saw something he hadn’t seen before.

  Damn him. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t know anything. She yanked against him again. “Don’t expect a thank you fuck at the end of it. You’re not my type.”

  She yanked her arm but he just pulled her in closer, so close his hot breath fanned her cheeks. His nostrils flared even as his gaze remained like molten steel. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

  Her breath stuck in her throat. “What are you talking about?”

  “Be a bitch. Be ungrateful. Throw a tantrum for all the good it will do you. I’m not leaving. Do you hear me? I’m. Not. Leaving.”

  A knot tightened in her stomach and the backs of her eyes stung. His stare… She turned her face away. She couldn’t handle the way his stare made her feel…naked. Like he could see her. Like he could see the raw and swollen parts of her with skin like paper. The parts she wrapped in a cloak of anger and guarded behind thick, impersonal walls. She hated him for seeing it. Because now she saw it too.

  “Fine,” she growled out. “Stay or don’t. I don’t care. We’re wasting time.” She tugged her hand but he wouldn’t release her.

  “Alyx.”

  His voice was so pained around her name that it startled her. She lifted her eyes up. He opened his mouth then closed it, pressing his lips together. “Fine. Let’s go.” His fingers slipped from hers and she felt a rush of loss.

  They began to walk down the slim street again, the empty apartments seeming to stare at them as they walked past.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a bright yellow sunflower facing her from the side of the closest building; she almost felt like it was watching her.

  Israel directed them deeper into the oldest part of town, and she had the sense that she was being swallowed whole, bones and all, by this city. The eerie quiet of this place was made stark by the clatter of their boots echoing off the buildings that rose on either side of them.

  More often than she wanted to, she found herself stealing glances at Israel, her eyes drawn up to his face, almost a head taller than her. His stubbled jaw was set and his chin was high, his eyes alert, scanning the buildings around them. She found her eyes dwelling on his thick lips, found her gaze tracing the curve of his neck and over his broad, muscled shoulders.

  Perhaps having him beside her wouldn’t be too bad.

  He looked over to her and caught her staring. She thought he would turn serious again, perhaps bring up their earlier conversation, the edges of it still raw in her mind. Instead a sly smile teased at the corners of his lips. “See something you like?”

  Alyx crossed her arms in front of her. Idiot. Why did she let him catch her looking? Now he thought she was ogling him.

  She had been. But he didn’t need to know that. “Are you sure you know where you’re going? I still think we need to find the Mapmaker. The Elder said so.”

  “The Elder underestimated how much I know about Saint Joseph. The mountain is in the north and I know the quickest way to get us through this city. It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  She had grown up in Saint Joseph too, but there was something about this place that didn’t seem familiar. Sure, it looked the same, the streets were cobbled and the buildings rose, slightly tilted into the street like they were bending over from age, the old ornate Victorian lamps fixed into the side of exposed bricks, now containing electric bulbs instead of oil burners. But the air smelled different. Saint Joseph smelled like smoke and incense and the sweet caramelizing sugar of the open stalls that sold freshly made pastries. This place had a strange undercurrent of something sharp in her nose. Like disinfectant.

  You’re not really here, remember? You’re in a hospital in a coma. This place isn’t real.

  This thought didn’t comfort her. This place felt and looked as real as life did. She already knew that pain in here felt real enough. “You must get out before the end of winter.” What if she didn’t?

  She shoved that thought aside. There was no time to think about such things. It would only make her start to panic, and that would not help them escape.

  Israel halted at the entrance to a thin alleyway. “We can go through here and take a shortcut through Tarragon Alley.”

  Was he crazy? Tarragon Alley was one of Saint Joseph’s bad areas. Over the last few decades it had only gotten worse as the city’s crime seemed to concentrate here. It used to be scattered across several areas including the Valley, but the Valley had gentrified and had become one of the hippest commercial areas stuffed full of cool bars and cafes and avant garde clothing stores, while Tarragon Alley seemed to collect the dregs like a sewage net. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Come on, Alyx. There’s nobody here. It’d save us time if we cut straight through instead of walking around the area. It’ll be fine. Besides,” Israel touched his sword at his side, “I’m armed.”

  Alyx touched her fingers to her own sword sheathed to her hip. She wasn’t sure it would be a great help anyway but it made her feel a little better knowing that she had some sort of weapon on her. She glanced around the street. There did seem to be no one here. She was just being silly, right?

  Her gaze fell upon one of the few trees growing from the cobbles, and gasped. “Israel, look. The branches… the leaves… they were all just tiny buds minutes ago, now they’re bigger.” She spun and stared at another tree farther down the street they had just came from. The green tips were beginning to fan out into leaves. “The seasons here…they’re going faster than on Earth. We’re already weeks into spring.”

  Israel’s mouth was a grim line. “It looks like we have no choice. We need to take this shortcut.”

  Alyx didn’t like this shortcut. Not one bit. There were too many nooks in this alleyway where people, or things, could hide. On the sides of the buildings was a series of crisscrossing fire escape ladders and haphazardly hung clotheslines. A light breeze floated through the street, lifting the corners of the hanging sheets like a ghostly hand. A dark shadow seemed to fall about the alleyway even though the sun was out. She shivered.

  Something flashed overhead. She snapped her face towards it but it was gone before she could even be sure that she had seen anything. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

  “Israel,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you get the feeling that we’re being watched?”

  He glanced over to her. By the press of his lips she knew that he felt it too. “Stay close, okay?”

  They walked deeper and deeper into Tarragon Alley until the entrance from which they came couldn’t be seen behind them. She walked so close to him that their shoulders kept brushing against each other, sending small sparks down her arm every time it happened. She felt safer with him by her side but this ominous feeling never left her.

  “We should be out of Tarragon Alley soon. Just up here,” Israel said as they turned a corner. He skidded to a halt. She did too. The street went for only a few meters before coming to a dead end. “This isn’t right. This dead end isn’t supposed to be here.”

  Alyx tried to swallow down the knot forming in her throat and failed.

  “I know another way. Come on.” Israel led her farther down another street then another. “We can go just here…and turn this corner and—”

  It was another dead end. Another blank wall rising up before them.

  “What’s going on?” Israel said.

  “Guys and asking for directions,” she muttered. “I told you we needed to find the Mapmaker.”

  “Where? I don’t remember ever seeing a Mapmaker
’s shop in Saint Joseph.”

  Before Alyx could answer, something dropped from the sky, hurtling straight for her. Her hand went to her hip and she drew her sword out of instinct. The thing flew around her in an arc, too far out of her reach.

  “What the hell is that?” Israel hissed, his own sword drawn.

  The creature swooped around again then hovered at eye level several meters from her, black beady eyes trained right on her, large brown feathered wings beating powerfully, blowing up dust from the ground, the sunlight glinting off a silver bracelet around its leg.

  “It’s an eagle!”

  The giant bird let out a long cry and soared back up to the sky.

  “What did it want?” Israel asked.

  “I don’t know.” Alyx frowned at the space between the roofs where she could see the eagle circling above, its loud cry calling over and over like a siren.

  Like it’s sounding the alarm.

  Several silhouetted figures appeared over the roof edge and clambered down the ladders towards them. The alleyway filled with growls and the clatter of boots on iron rungs.

  “It’s an ambush,” Israel cried.

  Alyx gritted her teeth and steadied her sword, hoping to hell that she remembered how to use this thing in time. “You take those three, I’ll take the other three.”

  “Are you serious?” Israel hissed at her. “Christ, you’re going to get us both killed.”

  “What are you so worried about? You’re the one who actually remembers how to fight.”

  “Even if we both remembered, we can’t take on six against two.”

  “What do you recommend then?” she snapped.

  He grabbed her arm and their eyes met. “Run.”

  Chapter Six

  Alyx sprinted down the streets of Saint Joseph, the sound of chasing footsteps and angry calls far behind them but getting closer by the second. She followed Israel down a street with shops along either side, all seemingly empty. “We can’t keep running,” she said between breaths. “Soon our luck will run out and we’ll be chased into a dead end.”

  “I know. I know.” She could hear the panic tremoring in his voice. He ran up to one of the shop doors and rattled the handle. “Locked.”

  She peered over her shoulder. Their pursuers hadn’t rounded the corner yet, but they would soon, the sounds of their chase coming up fast. She ran to another door and grabbed for the door handle, cursing as it shuddered in its lock but refused to yield.

  “Alyx,” Israel hissed.

  She turned her head to see Israel holding open a store door. She sprinted for it and tumbled inside the dark shop. He shut and locked the door behind him and dived after her.

  She crouched behind a display cabinet, eyes peering through the dimness, so focused on the glass store window she barely registered what shop they were hiding in.

  She tensed, holding her breath as the pursuers ran past the window, all wearing black leather and swords on their hips. One of them slowed. No, don’t slow. Keep going. He walked closer to the store window to peer in. She ducked her head further down behind the cabinet and found herself pressing closer into Israel.

  “It’ll be okay,” she heard him whisper.

  She chewed her lip, praying that this curious one would just keep moving. The door rattled. She almost let out a cry but swallowed it just in time. Her fingers dug into Israel’s arm and she felt his hand slide over hers. I’m not alone. His touch unlatched something in her and she was able to release her breath slowly. It would be okay. Israel was here with her.

  The door stopped clattering. There was a moment when she couldn’t hear anything at the door. Then there was the sound of footsteps walking away. She gathered enough nerve to peer up over the cabinet. She couldn’t see anyone through the glass.

  She ducked her head back down. “Do you think they’re all gone?”

  “I can’t hear anyone outside, but…I think we should stay here for a few more minutes, just in case.”

  She let out a long breath of relief and sank against the cabinet, trying to let her heart come back down to a normal pace. They were safe. For now.

  “Alyx?”

  She looked over to him, her breath hitching a little when she realized how close their faces were. They were sharing the same air as they huddled together in this dark store.

  “Do you believe what the Elder said?”

  “You were bonded…like you are bonded now.”

  “About what?” she said, knowing full well what he meant.

  “About…us. That we meant something to each other. Once.”

  How was she supposed to answer his question? That she did feel…something unexplainable. That his presence woke something inside her like a phoenix, long buried in ashes but not forgotten, not willing to die. Was she expected to bare these things she felt, these things that even she didn’t understand? To expose herself to him? To give him the power, the weapons, to get past her walls and cut her where she was weakest? How was she supposed to answer him?

  She licked her lips, trying to buy herself some time. His eyes fell to her mouth and she felt her world tilting. “Maybe if we…” He started forward then stopped, pausing, his eyes darting up to hers, searching, asking. “Maybe we’d feel something, remember something, if we…” His eyes fell to her lips again and in a mutinous response, they parted for him.

  Oh God. He was going to kiss her. Her heart became a hummingbird with violent wings. He was going to kiss her. And she couldn’t move…

  “There you are,” came a deep male voice behind them.

  She spun around, leaping to her feet, her sword in her hand before she knew she had unsheathed it, half thankful, half furious at the interruption.

  A man stood in the midst of a jumble of hangers and materials.

  “Who are you?” Israel demanded from her side, his own sword drawn.

  “I am Francois, at your service.” The man dipped into a low bow with a flourish. He straightened and raised an eyebrow at the weapons still pointed towards him. “Come now. You can put those hideous things away. I am no harm to you.”

  “How do we know that you don’t have any weapons hidden on you?”

  He snatched something from a puffy pad strapped onto his forearm and held it up. “The sharpest thing I wield is this.” Neither Alyx nor Israel moved. Francois sighed. “It’s a needle to sew clothes.”

  Now that she looked closer she didn’t think he looked dangerous. He had a slim build and was wearing a tailored jacket with coattails and slim-fitting cream riding trousers. His dark eyes sparkled with fervor over a large, regal-looking nose, his long, dark hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

  Now that she had a moment, she took in their surroundings. Rolls of different types of cloth were shelved across the walls, interspersed by hanging zips, fringing and lace and clear drawers filled with colored buttons like candies. Scattered about the place were mannequins wearing various dresses, all with sequined and feathered masks across their faces as if they were going to some kind of ball. Or ceremony… Entwinement.

  She blinked in confusion. What was entwinement?

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Israel said to Francois, breaking through her thoughts, “I’ll keep my sword handy. We’ll be out of here soon and won’t bother you anymore.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I’ve been expecting you both.”

  “You have?” Alyx and Israel said together.

  “Indeed. I have your uniforms ready for you to wear.”

  “To wear?” She frowned and looked down at her black pants, shirt and jacket. They were dirty and scuffed at her knees and elbows. They weren’t exactly made for sword fighting and running through strange dream-cities.

  “I worked tirelessly on them. For hours and hours. I used only the best materials. ” Francois’s speech sped up until his words were tumbling over each other. “They’re masterpieces. Masterpieces. Built to perfection and to specification. And you won’t even try them on?”
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  “Alright, okay.” She glanced over to Israel. “I guess we could try them on?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Israel said, but his sword arm didn’t relax.

  Francois’s distressed features dissolved into a beaming smile. “Excellent. Right in here.”

  Francois walked to the back of the store and held the curtains aside. Alyx couldn’t see much from this angle but it looked to be a large dressing room.

  “If this is a trap,” Israel waved the tip of his sword towards Francois’s nose, “you’ll be sorry.”

  “Francois only deals in clothes, not traps, I assure you.”

  Alyx entered the dressing room, a large room big enough to fit at least twenty standing people, the walls crammed with framed mirrors in all sorts of sizes, a bench running along opposite walls and a regal-looking gold and purple satin chair in one corner.

  Francois pointed to a pile of folded black clothes laid out on the bench, boots underneath, and a jacket hanging from a hook. “Those are yours, Madame Alyx. And those are yours, Monsieur Israel.” There were a similar pile of clothes on the other bench along with boots and another jacket.

  “I’ll just give you some privacy while you change.” Francois closed the curtain behind Israel.

  Change? Both of them? In here? Together?

  Alyx sheathed her sword, walked over to her pile and studied the folded items: a black shirt and black pants. She fingered the black leather jacket. It was lighter than it looked. There were thin strips of a strong yet flexible metal sown into the fabric of the forearms and the collar and across the front of the double-breasted jacket, almost like a kind of built-in shield.

  She glanced over at Israel, and her tongue caught in the back of her throat. He was standing there shirtless, his golden torso, firm chest and six pack on display. Holy hell. Her body began to simmer from the inside, like a small fire had been lit in her lower belly. She couldn’t stop herself from tracing every firm bulge with her eyes, her fingers itching to follow the same route. Daniel didn’t look like that. And Daniel didn’t make her feel like this when he was half naked in front of her.