Love and War Part 2

by Kim Faulks

  Text copyright © Kim Faulks and Eden Connor 2014

  All rights reserved.

  www.hauntingfiction.com/

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

  The Underworld Coven Part 2

  By Kim Faulks and Eden Connor

  Contains mature content and themes

  ISBN 978-0-9942394-1-9

  Dedication

  Eden and I knew as soon as we finished this book who we wanted to dedicate this book to. Someone who worked tirelessly to get this ready for you to read, thank you Naomi.

  Words aren’t enough. ~ Kim.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The tiny hairs on the back of Helaine’s neck stood up. Someone’s watching from the shadows. She caught a flash of movement before the headlights of Claire’s car washed over her, sending the darkness back into hiding once more. But the feeling was still there, a sense of someone—or something—waiting for her. Claire’s red shot past, tires squealed as she swung back around to pull up against the curb. Barely a heartbeat later, the door flew open and her best friend jumped out.

  “Jesus, Hel, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

  Her mouth was dry. She swallowed and tried to find the words, but what waited in the darkness held her and she could only stare back. The air was so thick, she swallowed it down and with it came the sweet scent of jasmine. There it was again, a shifting of the shadows.

  “There, do you see that, Claire?”

  The sound of the running car was all that responded. Seconds passed. “No. What the hell am I supposed to be looking at here?”

  Helaine squinted, trying her best to make out the outline. Couldn’t Claire see it, couldn’t she damn well feel it? There was something wrong here. Something she didn’t understand. She took a step away and an ache bloomed in the center of her chest, the pull too great.

  Claire’s voice pierced the void inside her mind. “Hel, what’s going on here?”

  Was it the person from the alley? Was it someone from that party? A memory of the six-foot blonde burned in her mind. The demons. Did you send them after me?

  “Helaine, you’re starting to scare me a little. Helaine… Bloody hell, Helaine!”

  She snapped her head to the left and the air suddenly became lighter. Helaine took a deep breath and tried to focus. “Someone was following me.”

  “What? When, just now?” Claire’s blonde hair caught in the breeze as she spun, staring at the same spot that held Helaine’s attention only moments before.

  “No, before… I mean, earlier tonight I was chased into an alley. I broke my damned phone and stumbled into some sex party.”

  The fierce look in her best friend’s eyes gave way to fear. “Did you call the police Hel—“

  “I tried to,” she snapped, stumbling forward. She thrust out her palm, now covered with dried blood. The cut from her broken phone still fresh. “I….”

  Claire glanced down at her hand and winced. “Jesus, Hel. She strode around the back of the car heading toward her.

  She clenched her fist, covering the wound. There would be time to heal later. The street lights blurred. She blinked her tears away. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

  “You’re not fine, Hel. You need a doctor. Let me take you to the hospital.”

  You’re not fine, Helaine. You’re damaged and the doctors there can fix you. Mark’s betraying words haunted her. This wasn’t the same thing. This time she wasn’t… depressed… and she wasn’t imagining any of this.

  The darkened building across the road taunted her. She turned away from the sight and stared at her own reflection in the car windows. Her eyes were like black pits. She shoved her hair back from her shoulders. “I’m okay, Claire. Nothing that a first aid kit won’t fix. I’m just tired.”

  Claire moved around the back of the car to hold her close. “You want me to go up and grab you some things?”

  Her grip tightened on Claire’s arm. “I just wanna get out of here, okay?”

  “Sure,” her best friend whispered. “We can do that.”

  Claire gave her another gentle squeeze before she pulled away and moved around to the driver’s side. She couldn’t fight the urge to look up and find the windows to her apartment. There was more she wanted to say—a lot more. But the words were heavy in her chest. Her home no longer felt safe—not for her—not anymore. She wasn’t up to explaining why. Later. She’d tell Claire later. Helaine tore her gaze away from the window. The scent of Hawaiian Breeze deodorizer hit her as she opened the door and climbed in. For once in her life she was almost glad for the sickening smell her friend adored. Claire yanked her door shut and reached for her belt. “Let get you home, eh?”

  Home. The word left a sour taste. She caught a glimpse of her building as Claire pulled onto the street and accelerated. How could she go back? How could she continue to just pretend that nothing had happened? That place, so innocent, had become a black hole. The memory of Mark’s face returned, like a lance to her soul, striking, slashing. The day he walked out haunted her, and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to leave their home, waiting for the day he’d walk back through the door and tell her he made a mistake. The longer she waited, the more certain she became that was never going to happen.

  The car eased around the corners, the motion relaxing, allowing her to slump into the seat. “I love you, you know?”

  No other words were needed. Claire reached across to squeeze her arm. “I love you, too. I’m worried about you, Hel. I’m worried that this is just like before. I don’t want you to go back to that place, back to the doctors and the drugs. You push yourself too hard, always fighting everyone and everything, until eventually you crack.”

  She held onto the hurt, needing every damn drop to drive herself. I’m a fighter. She didn’t know how to be any other way.

  “So, you’re gonna stay with me, okay? For as long as you need. We can share pajamas and bake and shit.”

  The thought of Claire baking anything made her smile. The only fresh-baked cookies that woman ever had were the ones from Subway. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Good, it’s a date. I’ll drop you off to work tomorrow and pick you up. That way we can stop off at your place and pick up your stuff.”

  Her friend’s voice sounded strange over the hum of the motor. The words resounded inside her head like the inside of a drum. Icy fear tore through her chest.

  She shuddered, forcing out the words. “I don’t want you going there, Claire. Promise me, okay? Promise me you won’t go back to that place.”

  “Okay, Hel. I won’t go back.”

  Helaine nodded. “Okay then.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  "I know what you’re trying to say. But someone broke into my place. They stole my belongings."

  Two days had crept by while the police dragged their feet on an investigation. Helaine gripped the receiver and listened to the bullshit excuse the policeman gave while she shook her head. There were no forced locks in her apartment, no evidence someone had broken in at all. His condescending tone said all she needed to hear. The police wouldn't pursue the intrusion any further—she was on her own.

  Outrage sent prickles of heat down the back of her neck when her ex-fiancé's name was mentioned. She was such a fool. Had she honestly believed that her prior relationship with a cop would weigh in her favor when she’d made the complaint? Her ex, Mark, along with the officer, was convinced this was all in her head. Or Mark had convinced the detective there was no one after her?

  The calm voice on the o
ther end of the phone made her want to scream. If only there was some kind of evidence, something she could use to make them take her seriously. The muscles in her forearm bulged from clenching the phone. The slow throb in her head picked up speed.

  "Yeah, sure. Thanks for nothing."

  She pressed the button, ending the call mid-sentence, and lifted her gaze. Her supervisor stared down from the second floor, watching from behind a glass wall. Helaine smiled at Rosemary, trying to pretend she was okay. The truth was, she was nowhere near okay.

  Someone was playing with her, chasing her down darkened streets and breaking into her home. The damn cops were all the same. There was no one she could turn to. She took a deep breath and adjusted her headset. The flashing orange button on her display jacked her heart rate. Her chest ached with the urgent beat. Helaine swallowed and hit the button. "Welcome to Oceana Marketing. How may I direct your call?"

  A bead of sweat slid down her brow. She flicked it away and tried to breathe, but the air in her small cubicle was suffocating.

  "Are you listening to me? Did you hear I word I just said?" the caller snapped.

  Her insides clenched. A trail of sweat trickled from her neck down the back of her shirt. It was so damn hot in here. She closed her eyes... so damn hot. Her tongue felt thick, the words hard to pronounce. "I'm sorry. We seem to have a bad connection. How may I direct your call?"

  "You can direct my call to your damn supervisor, that's who. Bad connection, my ass."

  Her hands shook as she hit the hold button. She fumbled with the numbers for Rosemary's extension. Silence answered the call.

  Helaine tried to keep the tremor from her voice. "I'm sorry, Rosemary. I messed up the call. He wants to speak to my supervisor."

  Rosemary's tone could've cut glass. "Put the call through, Helaine. And hang up your headset. You're done for the day."

  She stabbed the transfer button before she ripped her headset free. What the hell was happening to her?

  Just breathe... just breathe. Her throat closed tight. Each swallow of air felt like a stone. She shoved her headset back on and dialed Claire's number. I’m gonna be okay. Just keep it together.

  "This is Claire."

  Helaine's throat felt raw, making her voice husky. "I'm finishing up for the day. Can you come and get me?"

  "That bad, huh?"

  Helaine tried to speak, but her throat closed.

  When she didn’t respond, Claire’s tone turned hard. "Hey. You okay? Did something else happen?"

  "No, I just need to get out of here."

  "I'll be there in five. I'm just gonna stop at your place and pick up some of your things."

  Helaine's stomach twisted. "No, don't do that Claire. I don’t need anything, really."

  Her friend's voice was unwavering. "It's okay, Hel. It's the middle of the day and no one's around. Besides, you can't keep wearing my clothes. They're too big on you, for starters. You look bloody ridiculous. I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"

  Claire was the most stubborn person she knew. Arguing with her would do no good. "Just please, be careful."

  "I'll be fine, Hel. There's nothing to worry about."

  Her best friend's tone mirrored the officer's. Does Claire think I'm making this up, too? The voice inside her warned. But there's everything to worry about. You don't understand. You don't....

  Doubt crept in, widening the gap for hurt and loneliness to push through. Did Claire think she was lying? Making shit up? The room vibrated with calls and chatter. The sound penetrated her thoughts. The world carried on, even while hers fell apart.

  Was this all in her head? Maybe she was finally cracking under the pressure of trying to live a normal life. In less than a year, she'd lost her baby and her fiancée. Everywhere she turned, suspicion or sympathy stared back at her. But never understanding.

  She was the woman scorned. The unloved.

  She was the poor dear with no future.

  She was the childless mother.

  Her teeth chattered, gnashing together. She clamped her jaw shut and stood. Her knees trembled with each step, threatening to bring her down. Helaine could feel her co-workers’ stares as she walked through the busy floor. Someone called out. "Hey, Helaine, you okay?"

  Don't stop, just keep on walking. She focused on the locker room door. Darkness gnawed the borders of her vision as she stumbled. The bathroom door loomed so close, salvation just one step away. Helaine swung blindly, punching the door. The hinges squealed and the wood slammed back. The booming sound was deafening as the thick oak slab smashed against the tiles.

  The constant ringing ended as the door swung shut. Helaine clawed at her locker, desperate for an anchor while her vision danced with darkness and stars. Don't faint here.... The metal edges of the locker door dug into her palm. The pain sharpened her focus, chasing the darkness away.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. She spun, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, eyes sunken hollows. She looked as though she hadn't slept for weeks. Her dark hair was wild and knotted. No wonder no one believed her. She looked just how she felt—unhinged. She cast her eyes down, unable to hold even her own gaze.

  What am I made of? She glanced up, staring into her bottomless black pupils, searching for an answer. Tears and glass? Is that all that’s left of me now? She swallowed hard. That was just how she felt, fragile... weak. And that feeling made her hate herself even more. She wasn’t weak and she wasn’t fucking fragile.

  She searched her mind for her constant companion, for the force inside that urged her on. The beguiling scent of jasmine filled her senses, hovering like a forgotten memory. Out of everyone she'd ever loved, everything she'd ever experienced, this haunting smell was what she'd come to trust the most. This was her inner voice—her guardian. This scent kept her safe.

  Memories of her childhood closed in like a thunderstorm. The first time she remembered smelling jasmine she’d been seven, hiding in the laundry while her alcoholic father screamed her name. Her pulse raced now, just as it had when his steps came close. Though she knew it would give her hiding place away, she’d been on the verge of screaming. The sweet aroma seemed to drift up from the piles of unwashed clothes, keeping her calm and quiet until her father gave up or passed out.

  She’d grown up frightened and careful, always waiting for the moment the jasmine would come to her again.

  And it did. Jasmine came to her when she lost her baby. Jasmine came to her when she lost Mark—just as jasmine came to her now.

  Helaine gave herself over to the sweetness of the smell and the wordless whispers it always put inside her mind.

  No one believes me. They think I'm either lying, or worse… broken. First it was the police, then Mark, and now Claire. Tension curled in her belly like a snake, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. But, what if they’re right? What if this is all in my head? Could I be confused? Did I imagine someone chasing me? Did I imagine someone came into my home?

  The dark seed of doubt sprouted. Please, someone help me.

  Her plea drifted inside her mind unanswered. The sound of laughter from outside the locker room shocked her back to the present. Any minute, the room would be filled with excitement and laughter. She couldn’t stay here any longer. Her crazed reflection nodded in agreement. She grabbed her bag from the locker. Maybe I should go back to counseling? Maybe I should take the awful drugs they want to prescribe. God knows I’m not coping on my own.

  She wrenched back the door and slipped out into the hallway, trying not to run from the giggles and the chatter. The elevator pinged and stainless doors slid open at the end of the hall.

  Run.

  Helaine obeyed the voice inside her head as she hit the glowing button and the elevator door slid shut.

  Run.

  Where would she go? With no job and no money, she'd never survive. This wasn't the first time she’d thought of leaving Sydney. In the still of the night, tossing and turning on damp sheets,
she often thought she’d take any chance to leave her shattered life behind. The desire stayed with her as the elevator slowed and jolted to a stop. The doors slid open on the employee parking level.

  Helaine scanned the cars and empty spaces. Claire's red little hatchback was nowhere to be found. Come on, Claire. You should be here by now. Helaine paced along the entrance to the lift, waiting... waiting. Seconds turned into minutes. Something's wrong... Something's really wrong.

  She grabbed her bag and plunged her hand inside, searching until she froze. The wound in her palm reminded her she had no damn phone. My life has to change.

  She couldn’t worry about the things she no longer had. Not now. Fear for Claire crowded out every other thought.

  The door to the lift opened and one of her co-workers, Marie, stepped out. Helaine moved to the side, allowing the older woman to shuffle past.

  Marie stopped and turned. "Everything okay, Helaine?"

  She wanted to say yes, but the word wouldn't come. Instead she muttered. "My ride’s running late. Do you think I could use your phone for a second? It won't take long."

  Marie reached into her bag and pulled out her mobile. "No problem at all. Can't have you stranded out here now, can we?"

  Helaine swiped the phone’s display and tapped out Claire's number. "Thanks. I'm kinda worried. She said she'd only be five minutes. That was over twenty minutes ago."

  The phone rang. And rang. Claire voice sounded cheerful on the message. "Hey, you've reached Claire. You know what to do."

  Helaine disconnected, her thoughts spinning. She glanced up at Marie. "Once more, please?"

  She didn't wait for the answer and pressed re-dial. With each ring, she felt the spiral inside become tighter, faster. Claire's message again answered the phone. She hit the button, ending the call, and her heart raced. "There is something wrong here. I'm not making this up. I'm not making this up.”

  "Helaine, honey, do you need a lift somewhere? Do you need me to take you home?"