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Apprentice (Into the After Book 1)

Page 17

by Patricia Thomas


  This time, it felt more like I'd hit a brick wall, and I ended up right on my ass, staring up at the man I'd run into. This guy at least wasn't wearing a kilt. Instead, he wore close to the same outfit as the woman I'd seen on the corner, with dark jeans underneath his black coat, and a dark gray button up shirt. I couldn't make out the color of his eyes as he stared down at me through his sunglasses, but I didn't get the impression he was thrilled with my sudden presence.

  "Who are you?" he demanded. He didn't offer a hand to help me up, and instead I fumbled to my feet, stammering out apologies.

  "Kadie Meyer," I said, not sure how else to explain myself. At least that was one more thing I could add to my list of assets. I had my brain, I had my pajamas, and I knew who I was. But as the man studied me as intently as the woman had before, I was getting the impression that wouldn't be enough.

  The man scowled. "What are you doing here, Ms. Meyer?" The way his eyeline seemed to fall over my outfit, suggested his third question would be why exactly I was wearing fleece pajamas in the middle of the day?

  Flustered, I couldn't offer any explanation. I didn't know what to say at all. I stepped back, wishing I was anywhere else. And I didn’t even know where I was! Not really.

  The man reached out, and grabbed me by the wrist, the callused skin of his hand brushing up against me. I would have sworn my heart stopped as he slowly twisted my hand over, turning my palm up toward the sky. At first, we both looked down at my hand, not saying a word. But then I saw it, right there on my wrist, a scar I couldn’t remember getting. The puckered skin looked like it had been there for years, shaped in an arc sloping toward my hand with thin lines coming from the edges. I would have said it was in the shape of a sunset if I hadn’t been more concerned with what exactly it was doing on my body.

  Whatever it was, the guy holding me in place didn’t seem happy about it. His grip tightened around me, more punishing than before. “You’re coming with me.”

 

 

 


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