by Nicole Thorn
I tilted my head. “Doubt I’ll find out.”
She poked my chest again. “Don’t find out.” She shooed me with her hands. “Now go and help my friend. And tell her I said I miss her.”
“Fine.” I narrowed my eyes. I could’ve lied and said I did it, to spare me from having to utter the words ‘miss you’. I didn’t want to do that to Caroline.
I went back to my loft and started trying to figure out how I’d pull off this plan.
I tortured myself with her file again. Rupert hadn’t given any on the friends, so I’d need to learn everything I could about them from the girl.
The loft was empty, having only a bed, a TV, a dresser with a small pile of books, and a large suitcase with my clothes in it. I normally rented fully furnished places since all of my things were overseas. This place didn’t come with a lot. I had been thankful they even had a refrigerator.
This loft was only one room. I’d like to blame that on the fact that it was cement from floor to ceiling. I had rented on the top level, and one large window overlooked the city. No one could see back up at me—I checked before I signed the papers.
I stood up to look out of the massive window. Streets and other buildings waited below it. I almost got a curtain for it, but changed my mind. I enjoyed the sunlight.
But I knew that wouldn’t last much longer.
I glanced back from my window. Yeah, this should do.
Chapter Seven: Out of the Frying Pan
Anastasia
My friends left me alone in my house. I’d hit a low moment, ordering two giant cookies from the pizza place down the road. My room smelled like chocolate and regret.
Oswald and Poppy had class and Elisa went clothes shopping for me—she said. I didn’t want to go. Spending the day at the mall sounded miserable.
I had started going through the rest of my stuff. We all agreed that I couldn’t stay in the house for much longer. My parents would sell it soon, which meant people coming to an open house.
We decided that I couldn’t contact them. It would be the world’s biggest mess if I tried. Better for them to mourn me and move on.
Then a hellion came after me. If my parents knew I was alive, and they lost me again… I couldn’t do that to them.
I’d gotten rid of a lot of my things. All but my favorite articles of clothing. I threw out all of my posters, and I packed away all of my pictures and keepsakes. They fit into one box.
My room looked almost bare. It felt strange to think that everything that showed my personality could fit in a few boxes. I had never been one to buy a lot of things for myself.
I walked over to my bed and sat on the corner facing the window. I used to watch the rain when it came around. I liked how the sky would explode with light without rhyme or reason, and liked the sound of thunder.
I fell back on my bed and reached for another piece of cookie.
“Caroline says she misses you.” I heard Ezra’s voice and shot up in my bed. He leaned on my doorway, staring at me.
“What?”
“Caroline,” he repeated with a condescending tone. “Apparently we have a friend in common. Your disappearance worried her, and I gave her an update on you. Hope you don’t mind.”
She worried about me… I missed Caroline dearly. She had been my best and only friend in Hell. Caroline made it less sad to be dead.
“Are you here to kill me?” I asked Ezra. He smiled and slowly sauntered over to my bed.
Ezra sat next to me and said, “Not today, love. I need you.” He reached over me and stole a cookie.
“For?”
“I need something that I believe only you can give me. The other options were too complicated, but I’m sure you’ll be happy to know I settled on something that will work out for me.”
“So happy.” I rolled my eyes. “Care to share with the class?”
“Why not?” He finished his cookie and grabbed my hand to pull me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I ripped my hand from his and he turned to face me.
“We’re leaving this house.”
“Yeah, right.”
He looked at me like he would a belligerent child. “Again, easy or hard. You can pick, but the hard way would most likely involve me accidentally bruising your face.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Ezra stepped closer to me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No,” I laughed. “You just want to kill me.”
“Come with me and you get more time. Stay here and I kill you and everyone you love. Choose.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“Why not? I have no qualms killing anybody. Especially a little group of entitled brats who think that nature is theirs to play with.” His voice sounded harsh.
“Who are you to decide what dead thing has a right to come back and what doesn’t? It’s only okay when it’s for you?”
“No,” he got louder. “I didn’t take lives to get mine back.”
“Neither did I,” I raised my voice to match his. I didn’t realize until that second that with each biting comment, we’d taken steps toward each other. We stood as close as we could without touching.
“Are you going to come willingly, or are we doing this the hard way?”
“Hard.” I smiled.
He smiled too. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Something jabbed into my side and a jolt coursed through my body. I fell to the floor to the floor.
***
My head felt fuzzy when I woke up. My eyes didn’t want to open, so I didn’t fight them.
I laid on something incredibly soft. A bed, but not mine. I groaned and my eyes fluttered open.
The room was dimly lit by a desk lamp beside the bed. I could see the night sky out of a huge window.
“Finally. You slept for hours,” Ezra said.
He crouched on the ground next to the bed. He tugged my shirt up and looked at two little burns on my hip.
“You tased me…” I growled.
“You said you wanted the hard way.” He smirked.
I ripped his hand off my hip and sat up. “You. Fucking. Tased. Me.”
“Yes, you said that already. Are you going to let me finish checking your burn?” He gestured to my hip with his hand.
“Why do you give a damn about my burn?”
“Would you rather suffer? You can fuck right off if you prefer.”
All I did was glare at him, so Ezra went on. He yanked my shirt up again and started applying some kind of ointment. I hated to admit that it soothed the pain. He put a bandage on me, and I scooted away from him.
“Where am I, and why am I here?”
Ezra stood up and sat on the corner of the bed. “You’re in my home. And I already told you that I needed you for something.”
“But you didn’t tell me what.”
“I’ve been told to collect some information on you and your friends. My boss would like to know how exactly you were brought back.”
“I don’t have that answer,” I huffed in annoyance. “My friends didn’t tell me much.”
Ezra considered me for a moment, maybe trying to figure out if I lied. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
He leaned in curiously. “Do you not care to know what spell brought you back?”
“I don’t want anything to do with magic anymore. It got me killed. I’m done. Or at least I would be if I wasn’t stuck with it bouncing around inside of me.”
His brow furrowed. “Inside of you?”
I shouldn’t have been telling him a thing, but I didn’t think that this would do much harm. “The spell I died during gave us all power. Without it I’d be…” I tightly closed my eyes as the taste of dirt filled my mouth. “I used it to get out of my coffin.”
He turned and looked at his hands. “That must have been an ordeal for you.”
“Coming back to life and not understanding what was happening, the
n having to dig myself out of my own grave? Yeah, it was an ordeal. Then I got to stumble home barefoot, to find an empty house. All but my bedroom because my parents didn’t want to be reminded of me.” My anger quickly turned to sorrow without my permission. Did my parents even take any pictures of me?
The second a tear betrayed every effort I made to stay strong, Ezra turned back to me.
“I was starting to think there was nothing to you,” he said quietly. The words didn’t sound like an insult.
“There isn’t.” I blinked, and a dam breaking. An embarrassing amount of tears fell from my eyes.
I felt a hand on my face. Ezra ran his thumb along my cheek and under my eye, drawing away most of my tears.
“I thought Russians didn’t cry.” He smiled in a way that I thought might’ve been an attempt to comfort me.
“How do you know—” I was Russian on my mother’s side. I had been named after the grandmother who raised her.
“I have a file on you,” he explained. “Brief background included.”
“Fantastic,” I sighed.
He chuckled. “I get one on everybody I’m sent to…” he trailed off.
“Ah,” I nodded.
I looked around the room again, wondering if I’d die in this loft. Where he would kill me.
The kitchen area had about ten bags of groceries on the counter. The rest of the place looked so empty. Sad almost. It seemed to make sense for him. There were about half a dozen bags in the corner from various clothing stores at the mall.
“What the Hell are those for?” I pointed.
“Oh.” Ezra stood up and brought them all to the bed. “For you. Since you’ll be in my company for the rest of your life, I thought you’d like some clothing.”
I got out of bed and stared at him. “Elisa was at the mall.”
“Yes. Shopping for you, right?” I didn’t want to know how he knew that. “I went into the stores she left, and picked out some stuff that I thought you’d like.” His smile suggested I wouldn’t like these at all.
“I don’t trust Elisa to shop for me. She tends to be on the…” I reached into a bag and pulled something out. “Provocative side…” I looked at the lacy piece of ‘clothing’ in my hand. “Ezra,” I breathed out, “This is lingerie.”
“Pajamas.” He rocked back on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets.
The thing had been made with black silk and lace. I held it up to me and it would hardly cover the important bits. “I can’t wear this.”
“There’s more,” Ezra said, not bothered.
I pulled out more silk. The next thing was a baby blue cami top and matching short shorts. It actually looked kind of comfortable. “It’s freezing in this place. You expect me to wear one of these teenie weenie little things?” I turned back and shot him a look of disbelief.
“Your options are those, what you’re wearing now, or—” He flashed a crooked smile. “—my preference.”
“No way,” I almost yelled. “I am not sleeping naked.”
“Why not? I will be.”
“No, you will not.” I made my voice deep and serious.
“You expect me to wear clothes even though it’s not nearly as comfortable?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to be in the same room with you while you’re naked. Hell, I don’t even want to be in the same room when you’ve got clothes on.”
He put a hand on his chest, “You break my heart. And for you, I’ll wear boxers. That way, you won’t accidentally touch something you don’t want to.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Where do you think I’m sleeping? The ground is concrete, so it would probably be quite uncomfortable for you.” He narrowed his eyes and smirked. “We’re sharing my bed.”
“I hate you.”
“Not my problem.”
It will be.
I continued go through the clothes he bought me. Other than the slinky nighties, he had bought dresses, only dresses. Not a single pair of pants or shorts. The dresses looked as short as the nightie, too. I poured the contents of the smallest bag out and groaned.
“I had to guess your bra size,” Ezra said, flatly as ever.
“Did it ever occur to you to just get my actual clothes, from my house? It would have been quicker, and way less stupid. Plus, you could have avoided the stares I’m sure you got when you were picking out slutty underwear.”
“I’m an assassin, living-dead girl. Not paid to think about that kind of thing.”
“But you’re cool being a personal shopper?”
I looked at him and he didn’t say a word.
I picked up one of the bras—blood red—and looked at the size. It was my exact size. God… either he was a good guesser, or he spent an upsetting amount of time thinking about my boobs.
“Did I get it right?”
“Yes,” I said sharply. I held up the scrap of clothing. “You know this kind of bra is mostly for show, right? It’s meant more to display things than support.”
He shrugged. “Wear it or don’t.”
“I can’t not wear a bra.”
He clicked his tongue. “You can actually. In fact, you shouldn’t. I’ll return those tomorrow.” He reached for the jammies first, and I slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch. I like that one.”
He grinned like I pleased him. Dammit.
“I’m glad.”
“Are you?” I asked sarcastically.
“Meh.”
I started getting tired already. “Is there a place I can change?”
He pointed to a bathroom, and I took the blue jammies with me. A new toothbrush rested on the counter. I decided Ezra got it for me and I used it. I changed into the soft silk he bought me, and hated that it was as comfy as I thought it would be.
I stared at myself in the mirror, disappointed over what I was about to do. I always thought that the first time I shared a bed with a guy, I’d love them. And they wouldn’t want to kill me. Life’s funny sometimes. Death’s funnier.
The bathroom didn’t have any windows or anything I could use to escape. There was only one door out of the loft, and only one window. Too far up to jump and survive. Unless I could somehow get past Ezra and to the door, I was stuck here.
I’d die if I couldn’t figure out a way to escape.
I walked out, and Ezra stared out of the window. He didn’t look back at me as I went to put my dirty clothes in one of the bags.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No. I just want to sleep. You’re not gonna stab me while I’m lying next to you, right?”
He laughed. “No, wouldn’t want to get blood on the—” He turned and saw me. He stopped in the middle of his sentence and his eyes trailed my body. He didn’t leer Just stare.
“So, no stabby stabby?” I said.
He shook his head.
I crawled into his warm bed and got under the covers. I laid facing him and I tried not to watch him get undressed. He faced away from me, so at least he didn’t catch me looking.
His body looked exactly how I thought it would. Absolute perfection. Not too much muscle, but just enough. It looked like he spent an awful lot of time fighting. He must have, with his job. Whatever he did, it worked.
I closed my eyes before he got into bed with me. For the first time, I was grateful that I didn’t have a heartbeat. With my eyes shut he didn’t have any way of knowing what the sight of him did to me.
“Goodnight,” Ezra said before I heard a click and felt cold metal on my wrist.
I ripped my eyes open to see that I’d been handcuffed to the metal railing of the bed.
“What the Hell?!” I yelled at him.
“I need to insure you don’t leave.”
“Where am I going to go?” I pulled my arm, but the metal didn’t budge.
“Well, nowhere now.” He gestured to my little prison.
I felt like I was right back in that coffin.
Trapped.
Helpless.
I got on my knees and violently jerked my arm back. It didn’t take long for my wrist to start bleeding.
I can’t breath…
I’m not buried. I’m safe. I’m in a room. In a bed. I’m safe.
“Stop, you’re hurting yourself.” Ezra grabbed my wrist to still me.
I stayed on my knees and tried breathing.
Ezra switched the light back on and pulled a small white box from his nightstand. He unlocked me, and held my hand while he dabbed away the blood with sanitizing pads from the box.
“You need to stay calm,” he said. “I can’t trust you not to run, so I have to cuff you.”
“No.” I violently shook my head. “You don’t.”
“I do.” Ezra wrapped my wrist in gauze and dropped the box on the floor.
He cuffed me again and laid me down, facing him. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Just lie there and go to sleep. The second I wake up I’ll un-cuff you.”
I tried to settle in a comfortable way, but it was hard with the cuff.
“Here.” Ezra pushed a pillow to my chest. “Put your other arm over this and let your right arm relax.”
I did.
I almost thanked him, but then I remembered all the Hell he put me through.
I shut my eyes again and tried finding sleep. I laid there for God knew how long. I heard Ezra’s breathing become even, and I knew he fell asleep. If I could reach his dagger, I’d sink it into his eye. Too bad he’d tucked it away where I couldn’t see.
Sleep took me while I fantasized of being alive again.
Chapter Eight: Memento Mori
Ezra
When my eyes opened, I forgot Anastasia was here for a moment or two. Then my eyes fell on her. I stopped breathing for a few seconds the night before, when she walked out of the bathroom. I’d never been ignorant to the fact that she was stunning, but I got a real taste of it when I saw her in that outfit.
I’d picked out those clothes because I thought they’d piss her off, and I wanted the petty revenge of that. I got it, but Karma came back around—as it often did.
Now, like a stalker—as opposed to just a kidnapper—I stared at Anastasia while she slept. I forced myself to look away long enough to get the key to her handcuffs and undo the lock.
