by Deanna Chase
“Josephine, come, sit down.” He started toward me with his palms up and outspread, trying to keep me calm as he approached.
I moved farther away from him, and whirled around, panicked. Then I saw the couch I had just been sitting on, it was covered in blood, my blood. I heard screaming and realized quickly it was coming from me, but I couldn’t stop.
Hawking’s arms wrapped around me from behind as he pulled me back into a hard embrace. I tried to pull away, but he didn’t budge. He just held me tight against his chest and turned me away from the bloodied couch, the final trigger of what appeared to be my emotional breakdown.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in my ear, over and over again.
I don’t know how long we stood like that, but as I started to get a grip on myself, I realized the absurdity of being comforted by my executioner. His embrace loosened as my breathing became controlled, and I pulled out of his arms.
“Don’t touch me.” I wrapped my arms around myself and stood with my back to him, wiping my nose and eyes, as I tried to rid myself of any trace of a breakdown.
“You’ll feel better if you shower. I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He sounded like he was a few feet behind me, but I didn’t want to look.
“I don’t need anything from you, and stop telling me what you think I should do.” I turned back to him now and put as much weight behind my next words as I could, “Because I don’t care what you think or who you are.” My situation was a disaster, but at least I sounded calm and in control again. “You ordered my death. I don’t even want to hear your voice. I don’t care why you made your choice. You did, that’s all that matters. You say your world is complicated, that’s an excuse. You are a monster.”
He slowly stalked me across the room, and I found myself taking several steps backward until I felt the wall at my back. He stopped just short of touching me, but close enough that his shirt grazed my chest, his hands braced on either side of my head.
“My choices are larger than you,” his voice was deadly soft as he spoke and a chill spread across my skin. “If by killing you, I protect thousands of others, then that’s the choice I’d make. Every. Single. Time. And I won’t apologize for it. You’d better wise up real quick, because you don’t want to go toe to toe with me. You won’t stand a chance.”
“We’ll see about that.” It came out before I even knew what I was saying, but my pride had taken enough of a beating. I was done backing down.
His whole body tensed as it hovered around me. I could feel the energy pouring off him and I sucked in a breath, afraid to move an inch. Afraid of what I would unleash if I so much as grazed him. It took every ounce of nerve I had to hold my ground and not back down. We stood frozen, the tension thick. He lifted his hand, slammed it against the wall, and then he left. I stayed exactly where I was, afraid if I left the support of the wall at my back, I’d fall to the floor.
Chapter Six
It took me all of five minutes to gather my wits once he left the room and to run for the door. The tall lanky man that had let us in was back in place. He was standing firmly in front of the door, and we eyed each other.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re probably right,” he said. “You might make it past me, but there are about twenty other men that look significantly scarier than I do that you’d have to get past, so good luck with that.”
I stared at him, undaunted by what lay before me. Okay, maybe not undaunted exactly, but it was my only shot of busting out of there.
A chirping sound suddenly echoed through the hall and I realized it was his phone ringing. “Could we put this attack on hold for one moment?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, take your time. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your phone call with our fight to the death or anything,” I replied, as I made a show of leaning against the wall and crossing my ankles.
“Thank you,” he said to me as he answered. He must have said yes five times before he ended the phone call, his eyes never leaving mine. “Mr. Hawking has asked me to inform you, that you are not to leave this apartment, and most certainly not covered in blood as you are. That he has five men outside of this door who will drag you back in if you try. He suggests you try to be rational for a moment, and let me show you to the guest suite, where you can shower and change. If you refuse, he will have to force the issue, as he cannot have you walking around his casino as is, and given his current temper, he prefers not to do that at the moment.”
He could be bluffing, maybe there wasn’t anyone outside the door, but I doubted that. I’d seen his men appear out of nowhere more than one time on the casino floor. This was his private domain. He had priceless works of art hanging on the walls in the hallway; of course there would be security. I wanted out of there, but I couldn’t be stupid about it either. There was no way I’d make it out right now.
“Show me the way,” I said resignedly.
“If I may say so, I believe you are making the correct choice,” he said as he walked past me and in the opposite direction of the living room. I was happy I’d at least be on the opposite side of the apartment.
“Considering that you are working for a man who kills innocent people, I don’t care what you think.”
“I can understand that, but no matter how Cormac appears, he is an honorable man”
“I said I’d stay, not that I’d listen to you tell me what a great man he is. If you say another word about him, I’m walking out of here, five big goons or not.”
To his credit, he didn’t mutter another word and didn’t seem to take offense either. I didn’t hear the lock click when he shut the door, but what was the need?
The bedroom suite was stunning, and larger than the trailer I lived in. It was all muted tans like the rest of the apartment. A huge king sized bed sat in the middle of the room, with a tufted suede headboard, incredibly thick carpet underfoot, and an enormous flat screen TV. The far wall was all glass, like it was in the rest of the apartment, with the Vegas Strip on display. It had everything you could want, but I still didn’t want to be there.
I walked into the private bathroom, decorated in polished tan marble. It was beautiful, with a large vanity, and a Jacuzzi I would have died for on any normal day, unfortunately, today had been anything but normal.
I couldn’t avoid my reflection in the large mirrored wall that sat over the vanity area. I looked worse than I had imagined. There was blood caked so thick it was obvious even against the black satin of my outfit, and my hair, also, was caked in blood. I had grey smudges of mascara streaked down my face. I guess that’s what you get for buying the cheap makeup. Next breakdown I’d be sure to wear waterproof.
After I checked that the bathroom door locked, I stripped down and I turned the shower on until the heat of the water sent shivers through me. I worked as quickly as I could to get the blood from my hair and body, jumping every time I thought I heard a noise, constantly waiting for someone to barge in trying to shoot me, again. But when I got out, I dreaded putting on my bloody outfit.
I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Being shot in the head is traumatic, even if you walk away unscathed. Plus, I didn’t feel unscathed. I felt battered. My head had finally stopped pounding, but it didn’t seem to help me think any clearer. I’d known horrible people, oh hell, I’d lived with horrible people, but I’d never been shot in cold blood like that.
Wrapped in the largest bath towel I’d ever seen, I listened at the bathroom door, making sure no one was in the bedroom before I went in. When I stepped into the room, there was a pair of designer jeans, a cream-colored sweater, undergarments, and even shoes laid out on the bed, everything new with tags.
I didn’t want to take anything from this man, but I didn’t want to put my bloody clothes back on, either, and think of what they represented. I’d also make a much easier target in clothes covered in blood. I mean, really, how loud did I want to scream, “Here I am”, as I was trying to flee.
The clothes were bette
r quality than anything I’d ever owned. The jeans alone cost more than my rent for a month. The sweater felt like cashmere and the boots were Italian leather.
After I finished dressing, I slowly opened the bedroom door, walking on tiptoes to avoid making a sound; I made my way across the foyer. His doorman, or whatever he was, was gone. This was just too easy I thought, as I pulled the front door open.
“Can we help you?” There were four wrestler-looking men all staring down at me.
“I thought there were five of you guys?”
“Jimmy’s down the hall. Would you like us to get him for you?”
“Nope, just wanted to make sure you weren’t slacking.”
I shut the door and leaned against it. I wanted to bang my head against the wall, but the headache had just started to subside.
Then I heard a tongue clucking, as Cormac’s doorman came strolling around the corner, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Mr. Hawking is waiting for you in the living room.”
“Let me just run right in there, then. I wouldn’t want to keep my killer waiting.”
As I walked away, I swear I heard him chuckling.
Cormac stood at the bar. His pale blue eyes met my green as I walked into the room. Dressed in the same black slacks, but a new pewter grey shirt, it made me wonder if some of my blood had gotten onto him. He stood with a sheet of paper in his hand.
“You summoned?” I said, as I threw myself onto the couch that wasn’t covered in my blood. I avoided looking directly at the one that looked like a crime scene. I’d gotten myself under control, and I didn’t want to chance another breakdown.
“I see you’re faring better?” he asked with a raise of an eyebrow.
“Now that I don’t have someone shooting bullets in my head, yes, I do feel better,” I replied in a calm and controlled voice. “Now, what do you want?”
I saw what I thought was the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I couldn’t be sure, but I got the impression I amused him.
“I’m going to let you leave here, but there are conditions that are nonnegotiable.”
“Which are?” There had to be a catch. I was having a hard time believing that he was going to let me just stroll out of there after everything that happened. Then again, maybe he would? Who’d believe I’d been shot in the head five times and was fine? That certainly wasn’t something I wanted to own up to, but if he was willing to kill me for seeing some freak turn into a monster, what had changed?
“You will not speak a word of what happened. I made excuses to your floor manager, Arnold. He won’t ask what happened to you tonight. You will continue to work here and go on with life as usual.” He walked over and laid a piece of paper on the table in front of me, with a fancy pen beside it. “This is a letter of nondisclosure. It also states that you will not leave the Vegas area without giving notice.”
“And that’s it? I sign this, and you let me walk out of here?”
“Yes.” He sat down on the other end of the couch and I could smell the scent of him as he passed me.
This had to be a set up. It was too easy. I scanned the sheet, which was simplistic in its wording and style. It only had two lines. The first stated I wouldn’t disclose any of the actions that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. The second statement explained that I would agree to accept whatever consequences if I did break the contract.
I had nothing to lose and everything to gain at this point. I reached down to sign the paper quickly, and he grabbed my wrist and halted me. The connection tingled where our skin touched and I wondered what exactly he was, and for that matter, what that made me. I had a bad feeling it wasn’t something I was going to like.
“This is a binding contract. If you renege, there will be repercussions.”
“Like what? Are you going to shoot me a sixth time?” I’d always had a hard time with sarcasm. People told me I used it as a defense mechanism. I disagreed. I just thought I was funny.
I pulled my wrist free and signed. “Red ink, fitting. Considering the situation, I’m surprised that you didn’t make me sign in blood.” I laid the pen down near the paper.
He didn’t answer, just took it off the table, folded it and put it in his pocket.
“I can leave now?”
“You’re free to go.”
I hesitated, now that I could walk out the door I knew I left behind any possible answers about my origin that I might have been able to discover. I stood, taking longer than what I naturally would have. Angry that I hadn’t gotten the answers when he had offered.
“Did you need something else?” He looked to me, his face blank, but I could sense amusement again. He knew what I wanted but clearly wasn’t going to make it easy for me.
My spine straightened. I’d figure it out on my own. “I don’t need anything,” I said, as I walked from the room.
My hand was on the knob closing the door when I heard him. “By the way, you’re an alchemist.” The door clicked in place.
So I’m an Alchemist? What the hell did that mean?
Chapter Seven
I groaned when I heard Mrs. Harvey knock the next day. Looking at my beat up clock it was four in the afternoon, give or take ten minutes. I’d slept over twelve hours. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep for more than three, so I was shocked. I guess even though I had healed, getting shot multiple times still took some recuperating.
When I finally made it home last night, I’d spent a good few hours researching Alchemists. All I’d found was a bunch of rubbish about changing base metals into gold and the fountain of youth. Nothing even came close to jiving with what I’d experienced. Plus, I hadn’t been able to lose the feeling I’d been followed, even though I hadn’t seen anyone.
Standing up, I was in boy shorts and a thin t-shirt minus a bra, but I didn’t think she’d care, so I went to go greet her as is, but it wasn’t Mrs. Harvey when I opened the door. I knew his face. He had introduced himself as Vitor. It was the man who had asked me if I was okay after I’d fallen at Lacard.
“What are you doing here?” I held the thin aluminum door firm, ready to slam it in his pretty face if I needed. It would probably buy me all of two minutes.
He held up his palms in the universal sign of surrender. “I mean you no harm. I just want to talk.’’
“You’ve been following me.” I didn’t need it confirmed, but he nodded anyway. He wasn’t as large, or filled out as Hawking, but he still had a powerful build. If he were immune to my tricks, like Hawking’s men had been, I wouldn’t stand a chance at a one on one fight against him. “Why?”
“Can I come in and talk to you?”
If I let him in, he could do god knows what to me. If I didn’t let him in, he’d probably still do god knows what to me. I glanced over at the Harvey’s and saw there wasn’t a single light on. They had bad eyes, so even in the middle of the day they would keep a light on. They were probably at bingo. No one else would even call the police if they saw me dragged off, not in this neighborhood. In this place, you minded your own business, or you would be next on the list. I decided at the last minute to try to play nice, or as nice as I was capable of being. I stood back and waved him in.
“Wait here, I’ll be back in one minute.” I walked down the hall to my room and found a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt. I took it as a good sign he hadn’t tried to follow me.
When I walked back into the living room, it was almost funny how out of place he looked, in his expensive shirt and slacks, sitting on my plaid hand me down couch that had holes at the ends of the arms. Some people might have been uncomfortable about it, not me. I didn’t ask him to come. If he didn’t like my place, I was quite happy for him to leave. I stayed standing near the door, and eyed him warily.
“Well? What do you want?”
“Josephine, I was hoping to get to know you slowly. Give us some time to establish a relationship and trust, before I had to broach this subject with you, but after l
ast night, I don’t feel like I have that luxury anymore.”
“What do you know about last night?” I asked.
“I know that you were on your shift and then disappeared, later to be seen leaving the penthouse elevators. I can only assume that you were with him.”
“And why is that a problem?”
“I’d like you to hear my side of things before you choose.”
I let that soak in for a moment. Why would he think I’d be on Cormac’s side? Why would Cormac even want me on his side? But, at least this meant he wasn’t in cahoots with Hawking. “And what is your side?”
“I would think my side would be obvious.”
I watched my words as I answered. I wasn’t clear on what constituted a break in the contract, and I didn’t know what the ramifications would be. Not that I was sure I was going to honor it, but if I did break it, I thought it might be a good idea to know. “Why don’t you just humor me,” I said.
I watched him as I waited for his reply. He wasn’t just handsome, he looked kind. He might have been more handsome than Hawking, but where Hawking’s presence put me on edge, Vitor had a face that put me at ease. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I knew Hawking for what he was. He didn’t make any apologizes. Vitor was still an unknown. I couldn’t let angelic looks lull me into a false security.
“I’m with my people. I’d never go against the Fae. Did he tell you I would?”
Stay calm. Must stay calm and keep him calm. “No, he didn’t say anything of the sort. I just wanted to hear it from you. After all, I don’t know you or where your loyalties lie. I don’t know why you expect me to help.”
“I know you have no reason to want to.”
“But?” I asked, while my mind figured it could at least check Fae off the list.