Don’t even know if he made it out alive.
A scent floats in the weak, early autumn breeze. Familiar and revolting. Know it well. Prayed they wouldn’t find her, but they’re near now. I know I should run. Impossible to beat them all. I can smell at least three of them.
Sound of two feet dropping down behind me.
“Hi there, Bright Eyes.”
My heart leaps. Raspy, the right words, but the tone’s not what I remember. Fear and joy mix. Please let it be him. Turn around.
Awful.
“Disappointed, are we? No, I’m not your lover boy. He only stays around for the party. He has no use for you now.”
Turn and run. Expecting Gray—hoping for Gray. Smacked with blonde-ponytail Roderick. No Gray. No joy. Doom.
Two men stand in the parking lot, arms folded, staring at me—the same two goons from the stage last night. How are they standing after all that happened? No marks on them.
In almost a laughter, Roderick calls from behind me, “Running is pointless, love. No need to run—we don’t want much. Just where Ambrosia is.”
I turn away from the two goons to face him again.
“It’s that simple—tell us where she is, and no one needs to get hurt.”
Mind races. Only half an idea. Hope it works.
“She’s here,” trying to hide the trembling in my voice.
“What? Here—why?”
“In security office,” nodding my head toward the school building I just walked out of a few moments ago, “Figured she’d be safe here with them. I set it up for her.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“My dear, my dear, my dear,” he sighs walking beside me, then sniffing over my shoulder as he begins pacing a circle around me, “Now, you wouldn’t be trying to send us to the security office because it’s the one place around here with trained professionals, would you?” Looking into my eyes, he pushes deeper, “Would you, Miss Ruby?”
My chest runs cold hearing him say my name—I never said my name last night—not even to Gray.
Standing so close to me, his smell fills my nostrils. His odor is like Gray’s wonderful scent if it were left to rot in the sun for weeks and mixed with body odor and urine.
He continues, “Because if we go up there and Ambrosia’s not there, I might get angry. If I get angry, I may feel the need to tear apart some trained professionals. Now, you wouldn’t be sending those innocent, trained guards to their deaths by lying to protect a spoiled, blue-haired party girl who surely wouldn’t risk herself to save them? Or,” he laughs, “for that matter, you don’t believe for a second that she’d be risking herself to save you, do you?”
He chuckles, and it stings through my ears.
“She might.”
“She would never. I know her kind—know her in ways you’ll never know. She only cares for herself—an attention whore. She’d lead us right to you just to be the queen of the hunt. Just because she’d be the center of attention. Just because it’d make us all need her.”
His words are twisted—one side with a sad truth, the other a lie. Wrapped and twirled around—it’s hard to pick the thorny lies out of the mess that spews from his mouth.
Finally I answer, “You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Is that why you hesitated?”
“Only hesitated to keep myself from vomiting from your stench.”
His nose is to mine before the last syllable completely escapes. He raises his upper lip in a snarl, exposing those cobra-like fangs.
“Pretty may be something a girl is born with,” pausing to tap his pointed fingernails that reek of rotten meat on my neck, “but it’s oh…so…easy to take away.”
A gasp escapes without my permission.
“That’s right, Ruby—be afraid. I won’t warn you twice. Now, where is your slut of a friend?”
Anger burns in me. Slut. How dare he?
“Come closer, and I’ll tell you.”
Grinning wickedly as he puts his ear before my mouth.
I say, “She’s in a little place I like to call Go Fu—”
Before I can finish the vulgar statement, a blur of gray and black lunges from the rooftop, crashing a boot into the backside of Roderick’s head, sending him rocketing to the ground. Gray’s arm lands gently on my back, spinning me around toward the goons charging at us.
Gray steps forward—Goon on his left throws a punch. Gray blocks it with a backhanded punch smashing into the Goon’s elbow fiercely, causing a loud crack. The elbow flops backward, and Gray lands a fist square in the nose, sending the attacker to a knee and the vulgar word that I didn’t get to say earlier spewing from his mouth.
The other Goon throws a punch at the back of Gray’s head. Gray sees it coming and dodges enough to make it a glancing blow across his ear and temple. Quickly, Gray kicks at the side of Goon #2’s knee, creating an even louder snap.
As the second Goon falls to the ground, Gray turns to me.
On the dance floor last night, his movements were beautiful, so fast that they were a little scary. While they still may be beautiful in some way and they’re saving my life, his actions are terrifying now.
Passion and adrenaline cover his face.
My veins race with fear of the three that are on the ground, but my heart trembles more at what Gray will say.
Our eyes lock. Just like last night. Peaceful and electrifying at the same time, even at a moment when three thugs are trying to kill me.
In a flash, Gray steps forward and thrusts his hand against my upper chest, shoving me fast but gently to the side. Roderick’s fingernails tear into Gray’s cheek. Fraction of a second later, and those nails would’ve torn into me. Blood. Arms fling in a blur. Gray blur moves faster.
Roderick drops to a knee, and peering around Gray, he shouts, “Get up and fight!”
The two goons struggle to their feet, coming toward us—one of them wincing with every step.
Blue eyes return to me. Pained eyes. Lips tense. A word is coming.
“Run!”
Same word he told me last. The one person I want to run to keeps telling me to run away.
He sends an elbow flying at the first goon. It’s blocked, and the second goon punches him from behind. Gray flings his head backward, nailing the stumbling goon behind him with a headbutt. With a leg sweep, he sends the first goon to the ground.
“I can’t win this. Run! Now!” Gray shouts.
He reaches out, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward him. He drags me to where he stands, and I run past the goons on the ground toward my car in the parking lot. Look back—Roderick’s fist slams into the fingernail wounds on Gray’s cheek.
“Run,” is the last word I hear out of his bloody mouth.
I see no more of the fight as my legs race as fast as they can. There is a thundering crash, and I hear Roderick cursing.
My legs pump up and down for survival—my tears run for the nameless Gray who faces hell for the second time so I can escape.
Chapter V
Quick Cup of Coffee
“You have to come with me now,” says the male dream before me.
He came upon me like a gray breeze, unexpected, origin unknown, and tingling over my body before I knew he was near. He stands at the edge of the wrought iron table, his shadow covering the coffee cup in my hand.
I fled here after escaping the fight—thinking it wasn’t safe to go home. Too crazy to go to the police. A cup of coffee and lots of other people around were the best I could come up with. Forty minutes later—he’s found me again.