“I still am the voice of reason, damn it!” Xavier was furious with this line of questioning. He was the leader of The Hollows. Not Dante, but him.
“No, man. You’re not. We used to all turn to you wondering what to do because we always second guessed ourselves. Now we’re starting to second guess you.”
A fury boiled up inside Xavier, and he charged toward Dante, picking him up from the chair by his shirt and bringing them eye to eye.
"You have no right to question me! Do you hear me?" His voice shook with his rage.
Xavier could feel the fury mounting. He was very close to losing control as he stood here inches away from Dante, doing everything in his power to keep from hitting him.
"Look at you. Just look at you, X. Look what you're doing." Dante shook his head. "You want to hit me. Go on then. Hit me. But that won't change a damn thing, and you know it!"
Muttering something under his breath, Xavier shoved Dante away from him. The gesture due in part to the fact that he knew he was way too close to doing exactly what Dante had suggested, and because he wasn't sure himself what he might be capable of if he hadn't put distance between them.
Frustrated, Xavier drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “I wasn’t going to hit you.”
"Yes, you were!"
“Damn it, Dante! What the hell do you want from me anyway?”
“The truth, brother! I want the truth!”
Xavier breathed in deeply, trying to control his unrelenting and unpredictable emotions.
"Tell me, X. Come on. It's just you and me here. None of the others are around. You're turning 30 next week. If it is going to happen, you know that it would have already begun. If it's going to happen, the time is now."
As the two brothers looked at one another, each of them trying to get a read on the other, only silence surrounded them. It was so quiet that it was almost deafening. The calm before the storm which brewed inside his mind made Xavier’s thoughts too loud for him to bear.
Dante ran his hands through his hair. “Damn it, X! It’s me, man. Dante! I’m your brother. You know I’ll have your back no matter what. But you gotta be honest with me. I’ve got to know. Just tell me... Are you changing?”
He looked over at Dante. Their eyes met, and at that moment Xavier knew he couldn't lie to him any longer. The possibilities were too much for him to weather on his own.
Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't know, little brother. Something is happening to me. I can't explain it. All I can say is, when we go out… I feel…"
“What? It’s okay. I got your back, man. Just tell me.”
“I feel evil, Dante. I think… those stories we heard when we were younger. I don’t think they were just stories.”
"So, you think you may be changing?"
“I don’t know. Damn it. I don’t want to think it, but something inside of me has turned dark.”
“Shit. How dark? I mean are we talking…?”
“Dark, brother. Dark as Andras himself. I think I may be the one.”
Chapter Two
Elizabeth Hawthorne set her tray down on the counter back in the kitchen. Only three hours into her shift and she was already wishing she could call it a night. Not that she could or would. She needed the money, what little there was to make at this sleazy bar. With little to no experience in waiting tables she reminded herself it was better than living on the streets or resorting to prostitution like so many other young women did to survive. Still, even knowing that she could have it much worse, she was still losing patience and fast. If just one more drunkard put his hands on her, she vowed to herself that she'd forget all about her bills and responsibilities and serve up a nice and swift knee to where it hurts most.
“Rough night, sweetie?”
Constance, the curly haired red head who looked like she'd been ridden hard and put away wet had lived a hard life. Not that she'd ever shared any details with Elizabeth. It was just pretty clear in her eyes and the way she carried herself. There was a sadness about her, behind the smile she always offered, Elizabeth could see that there was a time that face never smiled.
“I’m okay. Just over my quota on ass grabs for the night. You know how it is.”
“Sweetie, if you’ve got a quota for that, you’re in the wrong line of work.”
“Don’t I know it.” she smirked.
“I don’t remember authorizing a break.”
Elizabeth looked over to find Lou, their portly and perpetually sweaty boss standing in the doorway. He was tough on all the waitresses, but Elizabeth counted herself lucky because if the sexual harassment rumors were true, she must not be his type. He hadn’t tried anything inappropriate with her, at least not yet.
“Oh calm down, Lou. We’re just chatting. It’s dead out there anyway.”
“What do you expect for a Tuesday?” Lou peered out the window which looked out onto the floor. “Yeah, it does look a little sparse out there. More so than usual. I wonder what’s up.”
“See.” Constance nodded her head and winked at Elizabeth. “Told ya, boss.”
“Yes well, there’s no sense in both of you being here if we only have a few tables. Any chance I could get a volunteer to head out early tonight?”
“I’ll go.”
The words escaped Elizabeth’s mouth before she even realized she was saying them. She really shouldn’t leave work early. Every dime she had went toward her bills and trying to save for something better. But oh how the sound of a bubble bath sounded so much better than getting her ass grabbed by Mr. Handsy over at Table twelve.
“Are you sure, hon?” Constance asked.
"Yeah, you never asked to leave early," Lou added.
“Yeah, I think I’m just tired. I mean it’s that’s okay with you Constance?”
“Don’t matter to me one bit, sweetie. You go on.”
“Really?”
“Really. I can handle handsy out there. You go on. You're only young once, and you already work too much."
“Thanks.” She smiled. “It’d sure be nice to get home before midnight for a change.”
Lou glanced at his watch. “Well if you want that to happen, you’d better get to leaving now. It’s already twenty ‘til the hour.”
Elizabeth didn’t wait for Lou to change his mind. She untied the little black apron she wore and hung it on a hook next to Constance.
“Just have to grab my purse from the back office. Can you unlock it for me, Lou?”
“Sure thing.”
“Night sweetie. Have a good one. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
"Goodnight." Elizabeth waved and followed Lou down the narrow hallway to the back.
A minute later she had her purse and jacket and was walking outside the club. Her aching feet suddenly had a little extra bounce in their step as she walked along the concrete jungle known as Los Angeles.
It was a little chillier than usual, even for California. Her long dark hair blew in her face as the wind kicked up and trash from the street scurried past her.
Brown paper sacks and miscellaneous concert announcements and flyers of all kinds littered her entire walk. She hated living in such a poverty stricken neighborhood, hated how everything looked so dirty and unkempt.
The latter half of her childhood may have been hell inside the walls of her home. But she always took solace in having places to escape to in spite of all that was happening. Their house sat in the center of a typical, cookie cutter like subdivision which had parks and trails for everyone to get lost in. And that was precisely what she had done. More times than not, whenever things got too scary at home, she'd stuff her pillow and blanket into her backpack and disappear for a night or two, sleeping under the stars or wherever she could find an opening among the trees that surrounded their neighborhood.
Her mother never noticed her absence. She may have when Elizabeth was younger, but after her father had died everything changed. It was like something inside of her mom broke and even though the doctors put her on medicine an
d tried to help her, she was never really the same again.
Despite her mother's sadness and obvious depression, Elizabeth never doubted her love. It wasn't until Larry came into their lives that things began to change. Instead of just being depressed her mom clung to Larry like a spider would cling to its mother's back. It was a dysfunctional and unhealthy relationship to even the most casual observer. But it was especially hard for Elizabeth as she watched her mother drown deeper and deeper into addiction of all types.
Larry as sleazy and disgusting as he was didn’t have just one vice. He had several. And he made no apologies for introducing her already fragile mother to each and every one of them. From Meth to Heroine and even the occasional use of cocaine, their home became a den of druggies and less than appropriate people to be hanging around Elizabeth at the impressionable age of sixteen.
Each and every night she locked her bedroom door and pushed her chest of drawers in front of it, adding extra security should anyone figure out how to get past without a key. Too many nights she’d lie awake in fear, listening to her bedroom door rattle as some wasted male, usually with a voice she didn’t recognize, begged her to open the door so they could be friends.
Then came the morning, where much of the same crowd was still there, only then they’d be passed out on the couch, chairs, floor and sometimes even the stairs as she got ready for school and hurried out the door before any of them would wake.
It was survival of the fittest in her final two years of high school. She learned at a young age to trust no one and always be aware of your surroundings. Because no matter who is supposed to be there for her, protecting her, guiding and nurturing her, she knew that she could rely on no one but herself. Not the strangers who tried to lure her in by their false claims of friendship, not Larry who married her mom on one drunken night in Vegas. And certainly not her mother.
She was on her own. All alone. And she knew that if anyone was going to be responsible for her, it was going to be herself. She would never rely on anyone. She refused to fall so hard, so deeply for someone like her mother did her father, only to be broken once he was gone.
It wasn’t that she blamed her mother. She didn’t. In some ways she felt sorry for her. It made her sad to see such a beautiful and bright woman be torn down to nothing more than fragile bones of an addict who would do anything for her next fix.
As she turned the corner to the hotel which doubled as weekly rate apartments where she was staying, she was struck by a menacing chill racing down her spine. It stopped her dead in her tracks.
She took a glance along her peripheral vision, searching for signs of life just beyond her line of sight. Only the sound of trash scurrying along the filth filled streets were discernible.
Slowly she reached into her purse and placed her keys in the palm of her hand, making sure the longest one poked through between her fingers should she need to use it as a weapon. With her other hand she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and prepared to dial for help.
She was ready for anything, anyone, if someone should decide to surprise and charge at her. A scream sat just on the cusp of her vocal chords, ready to break through at any moment and yell for anyone who was within earshot.
Gearing herself up, she was prepared to run like hell and call the police. Still, an icy fear kept her frozen in place, unable to move despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Before she had a chance to react a strong arm wrapped around her body, pulling her close until she felt the nauseating warmth of a stranger;s breath in her ear.
"Don't move. Don't make a sound. Do as I say, and I won't hurt you." His deep voice spoke to her with an air of authority.
She couldn't move even if she wanted to. And she could forget about screaming. Terror had grabbed hold of her just as surely as this stranger had. It restricted her every movement and erased any possibility of her trying to escape.
His voice had her frozen with terror. Who was he? What did he want? All of the questions swam through her mind like a tidal wave of disastrous possibilities.
She looked around the street, hoping to see anyone, someone, who could help her. But with each second that passed it was becoming clear that she was all alone. There was no one here to help her. No one near to stop this horrible man from doing whatever it was he had planned for her.
It was up to Elizabeth to protect herself. And with that knowledge she tried with all her might to calm her panicked breaths, giving some control back to herself despite feeling so helpless.
“That’s a good girl. Just relax.”
She felt the tip of a blade press against the side of her neck as he continued to speak in her ear.
“You’re going to be really sweet to me. And you and I are going to have ourselves a little party.”
Her gut churned with disgust. This monster was going to rape her. This sick, demented, and vile human being was going to take something from her she'd never be able to get back.
With his hand still placed roughly over her mouth and the knife pressing firmly into the sensitive skin of her neck, all she could do was nod her head in agreement. She had no other choice. He was much larger than her, and there was no way she could break free from his hold.
“Good. I like that.” He sniffed her hair and moaned. “You smell nice.”
She remained perfectly still as she tried to fight past the unrelenting fear that was consuming her.
“Yes…you and I are going to have a lot of fun together. We’re just going to take a walk down this alley. And you’re going to be real good for me. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
She didn't answer him. Her words seemed to be stuck in her throat. Dread filled her entire soul. Why had she left work early, she wondered? If only she had stayed. If only she were still getting groped by the drunk bar patrons. If only this weren't really happening to her.
She thought of her mother. Not the mom that she’d ran out on five years earlier, but the mom who raised her. The one who made her homemade chocolate chip cookies and would braid her hair while singing nursery rhymes with her.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she fought against the sadness. She’d always someday hoped to go back and find her mother. She would help her and take her away fro the life that her loser of a step dad had introduced them to.
Now she knew there was a real chance that fantasy would never become a reality. This might be it for her. At twenty-three years of age, Elizabeth might be seeing her last night, hearing her last sounds and saying goodbye to the dreams she never got to achieve.
The knowledge that her very survival was up to her and her alone gave her unsettling odds, and they were not in her favor.
Chapter Three
Xavier rolled over in bed and let out a giant yawn. After his post workout talk with Dante, he'd been beyond exhausted. He'd laid down with the intention of just resting his mind so he could refocus, but a glance at his bedside clock told him that short rest had turned into a six-hour nap.
Stretching, he swung his feet over the side of the bed before walking to the bathroom. He turned the water on until it was ice cold and splashed it across his face.
He needed to wake up. It was an hour past the time he had agreed to meet up with Dante and the others. If what his brother said was true, the others were catching on to Xavier's change in behavior. And as much as he hated to admit it, Dante was right. He had to lead by example and couldn't keep disappearing, showing indifference to the others. He wasn't only letting them down, but his legacy as well.
A few minutes later he was on his way to meet with Dante and the others for their nightly patrol of the city streets. He took the fire escape steps two at a time, figuring he could race through the alley and make up for lost time.
He’d barely rounded the corner past 6th Street when his ears captured something off in the distance.
Crying.
The sound of a muffled cry came from somewhere close by. He could almost feel her dread as he ran down the street trying to ge
t a fix on her location.
He stopped when he reached the alley behind the old carpet factory. The sound coming from her was quieter, but he sensed she was much closer than before.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on her fear, trying to zero in on exactly where she was. Out of all the powers he'd been given, his instinctive skill of determining locations of a victim was one that he cherished the most.
A pungent odor hit his nose and turned his head toward the alley. Whoever was attacking the woman reeked of cheap scotch and dime store aftershave.
He hurried down the alley, making sure nothing stood in his way as he jumped over trash bins and old wooden pallets left outside to rot.
It took only seconds, and he found what he was looking for. Xavier stopped and stared at the asshole straddling the young woman who lay beneath him.
“Get off of the lady!” He ordered the man.
The man glanced over at Xavier and quickly replied, “Get lost. I found this one first.”
Xavier heard his drunken and slurred words, but didn't care. Obviously, this guy had no idea who he was dealing with.
He couldn’t send a message to his brother. He could've and probably should've reached out for help. But all Xavier could think of was the lifeless body lying on the ground. She hadn't moved. Not an inch since he'd found them. And he couldn't see her face, but a small trail of blood looked to be coming from her forehead.
“I’m going to say this once more before I make you regret ever touching this woman. Leave the lady alone! Got it?”
Either the guy was stupid, or just had a death wish, but he looked back at Xavier and said, “Go to hell! This one’s mine.”
Xavier clenched his fists at his sides. That rage that he’d been having a hard time controlling was starting to rear its ugly head again. He took two steps forward and reached his hand out, pointing toward the woman’s attacker.
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