by Sammie Joyce
You’re close. You’re so close I can almost taste you…
“Just you and me, friend,” the store owner confirmed. “What can I get you? You hungry? Thirsty? Started smoking yet?”
I snickered and shook my head.
“No, I still like my lungs, thank you.”
I paused and cocked my head to look at the owner curiously.
“What is it, Mr. Mathis?” Vijay asked, a slight concern coloring his mocha skin.
“Nothing. I was just looking for someone. Has anyone come in here in the last hour or so?”
Vijay frowned as he considered my question.
“None of your friends,” he replied slowly and I perked up at his tone.
“But someone was here?” I insisted. He nodded.
“Dark-haired man,” Vijay explained, his eyes shadowing. “Not a stranger exactly but I haven’t seen him often, certainly not lately.”
Vijay trailed off and unexpectedly, I felt a chill run through me.
“You know who he is?” I asked excitedly.
“Not really…” Vijay seemed uncertain. “I feel like I’ve seen him but I can’t say for sure.”
“What did he buy?” I asked.
Vijay chuckled.
“A slushie. Everyone wants a slushie.”
That’s innocuous enough. Why am I so alarmed?
Something was nagging at me but it was so elusive, so annoying. The harder I tried to grasp it, the further it slipped from my mind.
“Not me,” I laughed, knowing that he was about to offer. “How long ago did he leave?”
Vijay shifted his eyes toward the camera screens, his frown returning as he pointed at the cameras.
“He’s still here,” the owner replied, a note of anxious excitement filling his voice. He paused and looked at me worriedly. “Is he trying to rob me?”
I craned my head across the counter to look where Vijay pointed, my own eyes narrowing as they rested on the blurry figure lounging conspicuously behind the Late-Mart’s back door. It certainly could have been someone casing the joint but it was impossible to tell what the man’s intentions were. At least not until I saw him face-to-face.
“Not on my watch he’s not,” I muttered, heading toward the front door, but Vijay called out to stop me.
“Be careful, Mr. Mathis!” Vijay begged. “I can call the police—”
“NO!” I said sharply, turning back to shake my head vehemently. I lowered my voice when I caught the stricken look on Vijay’s face. Offering him a quick smile, I continued, “We don’t even know if there’s a problem, right? We wouldn’t want to call the cops for some kid doing nothing.”
Vijay didn’t look convinced but I knew he’d respect my wishes. I was a hundred percent sure that this misanthrope hanging around back was up to no good but the last thing I wanted was the cops arriving on the scene, lest matters get messy. What I couldn’t figure out was why I had detected him from miles away. It didn’t matter—I was there now and I intended to get to the bottom of it.
“Listen,” I said, trying to ease Vijay’s mind. “Just keep an eye out on camera. If you think things are getting out of hand, call the cops—but I’m sure it won’t get to that.”
Again, I turned for the door but once more, Vijay stopped me.
“Mr. Mathis!”
Stifling a sigh, I pivoted again.
“Yes?” I was struggling not to show my irritation.
“Use the back door,” he suggested, sitting back to nod toward the back hallway. “That way he won’t see you coming.”
He slid a baseball bat over the counter and I swallowed a smile.
I don’t need a baseball bat, I thought but I only shook my head.
“I’ll go out the back door,” I agreed. “That’s good thinking but I don’t need the bat.”
I didn’t give him an opportunity to argue before heading down the back hallway. Without forewarning, I threw open the metal fire door, knowing it would catch the man off guard. Before he could run or react in any way, I was outside, kicking the door shut in my wake as I advanced upon him, vaguely aware of the camera watching my every move. If I was going to shift, I would need to do it away from the lens but I wasn’t sure if it would need to come to that—yet.
His dark eyes widened in shock as they rested on my face and for a moment, I could only return his surprised stare. I hadn’t recognized him on camera but I did now.
Son of a bitch. He’s at it again.
“Hello, Elia,” I hissed, recovering before he did, as I again moved forward. “Long time, no see.”
4
Addisyn
I hadn’t realized I had even fallen asleep until I jolted awake unexpectedly. For hours, I had been tossing and turning in my bed, one ear open to the noises in the house as always. In a way, I had come to think of myself as the mother to a newborn. My nights were sleepless, always expecting the worst, and sleep didn’t ever come easily, even now when I was fairly confident that Odessa wasn’t getting into too much trouble. The problem was, I could never really be sure.
I’d tried melatonin before bedtime, not wanting to pump sleeping pills into my blood. If Odessa had taught me anything, it was what not to do in life. The melatonin seemed to have an opposite effect on me that night, however, and I had been up every hour or two since retiring.
It was after three a.m. and I had a feeling that I wasn’t going back to sleep. It was hardly the first time my body and mind had roused me from a fitful slumber in the middle of the witching hour and I knew fighting it would be useless.
I stared at the ceiling for a long while, debating what to do for the next three hours before my alarm would sound. There was always work to be done, clients to email, and the stock market to study, but work was truly the last thing on my mind, particularly when the walls felt like they were closing in on me.
I wasn’t particularly prone to claustrophobia, especially not in my spacious master bedroom suite, but I couldn’t shake the sense that the walls were closing in on me, no matter how much I tried to tell myself that was ridiculous.
Knowing that I was only going to drive myself crazy if I stayed in bed, I threw my legs over the side of the thick mattress and padded out of the room, into my living room.
For a few minutes, I flipped through channels on my mounted television but all the shifting of stations was only wearing further on my already thin nerves and the sense of suffocation was only growing.
Chamomile tea, I decided, throwing open the door. I paused in the doorway, some throwback childhood memory overcoming me in that instant, and for a weird minute, I half expected to hear my parents fighting.
Wow. You’re losing your mind, I thought, shaking my head and pushing myself down the hall toward the kitchen. The scent of kale and avocado still lingered in the air, the combination making my stomach flip uneasily. I stood in the kitchen, looking around the familiar surroundings as if I’d never seen them before.
I needed to get out of the house, get some air. A tea wasn’t going to help me in the least.
As I padded back toward my bedroom to change out of my pajamas, I stopped to check in on Odessa. To my relief, she was sound asleep, snoring lightly on her pillow.
Any guilt I had about leaving her in the middle of the night was gently alleviated as I shuffled back to my room to dress.
Haphazardly, I threw on a black Lululemon tracksuit and shoved my unbrushed blonde hair into a messy bun, throwing on my hoodie and moving toward the door before I could change my mind. I realized I hadn’t even bothered with socks as I crammed my feet into a pair of white and black Nikes but I wouldn’t be gone long. Maybe just a drive to clear my head. We did need milk. A ride to the Late-Mart and home should do the trick, I reasoned.
I backed my burgundy Infiniti out of the garage, closing the door with the fob as I exited, and headed down the modest cul-de-sac that I’d been living in for two years.
The neighborhood was a sweet compilation of older rustic-style houses and newer ran
ch ones. Mine was the latter, a brand-new build that I had been lucky to get with the housing market being what it was.
Why did I not feel so lucky?
I shoved the morose thought out of my head, reminding myself that I lived better than ninety-seven percent of the world’s population. I had no right to bemoan my life. It was damned near perfect by any standard.
I turned on the radio, hoping that some music might help clear my dark and somewhat hazy mind. Lizzo’s voice put me in a temporarily happy place but in what seemed like no time, I was at the Late-Mart, parking in the brightly lit lot out front.
Unsurprisingly, there were no other cars around and when I stepped out of the driver’s seat, I suddenly felt uncomfortable being there alone at that time of night. I’d have to have been living under a rock not to know that Eugene had one of the highest crime rates in America but that had never really affected me one way or another. After all, an upper-middle-class financial consultant didn’t wander into dark alleys at night. At least not usually.
My hazel eyes darted around the lot, half expecting to be met with a gang of men or an unstable homeless person. I was ashamed of myself for assuming the worst but I knew it was better to be cautious than to be assaulted—or worse.
Locking the Infiniti, I hurried the few short steps to the front doors and opened it. The fluorescent lights of the interior gave me a semblance of comfort but I had to muse at how much different the Late-Mart was in the middle of the night than it was during the day.
A slightly older Indian man in a red turban sat glued to a television screen, his brow raising in surprise when he saw me. I might have caught him off guard because he almost gasped as he took in my face.
“Hi,” I offered, giving him a small smile. Immediately, he regained his composure and exhaled with relief.
“Hello,” he replied. “Do you need help?”
I shook my head and nodded toward the rear of the store.
“I’m just grabbing some milk,” I told him. He bobbed his head, turning his attention back to the screen. I almost asked him what he was watching but I got the sense that he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I couldn’t blame him. The middle of the night wasn’t the time to make new friends.
I grabbed a gallon of two percent and shuffled back up the aisle, looking casually at the items on the shelves, trying to remember if I needed anything else in the house.
Maybe some paper towels, I mused, grabbing a two-pack before making my way back toward the counter. The cashier’s nose was almost pressed to the television screen again and I couldn’t help but peer at it myself. To my surprise, I realized he was watching the security cameras. A shiver of alarm shot through me and I automatically looked toward the parking lot for my car. From where I was standing, I couldn’t make out any problems, but gauging by the expression on the man’s face, something was definitely wrong.
I decided to ask.
“Is something the matter?”
Abruptly, he looked toward me, the concern in his face clear, but he shook his head, forcing a weak smile on his mouth.
“No, no,” he said in a tone I was sure he thought was reassuring. “Can I get you anything else, madam?”
My brow furrowed and I again shot a glance toward the screen but I couldn’t see anything.
Maybe he’s just paranoid. I probably would be too if I had to work the night shift here.
“That’s everything,” I told him. He quickly rang up my total but I could tell he was still keeping an eye on the camera.
“Four seventy-six,” he intoned. I handed him a five-dollar bill and waited for my change, sensing the tension radiating off him.
“Thank you,” I murmured, casting him a last look before grabbing my milk and paper towels.
“Miss,” he called as I pushed on the door. I eyed him over my shoulder.
“Hm?”
“Go straight home now.”
The words sent another frisson of alarm through me but I didn’t press the issue. He was obviously warning me about something. I bid him goodnight and retreated to my car, my pulse quickening as I again shot my eyes about. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like I was alone there in the lot.
Yeah, because the store guy made you wary. There’s nothing out here.
I slipped into the driver’s seat, dropping my newly purchased items onto the passenger seat, and dug my keys out of my hoodie. But as I went to put them in the ignition, a flash of movement caught my eye through the window and I automatically turned to see what it was.
My heart froze as I took in the scene just beyond the lights of the parking lot. For a moment, I was sure I wasn’t reading the situation properly but as my eyes adjusted to the dim shadows beyond, I knew I wasn’t imagining things.
Two men were there, large and looming, in each other’s faces. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, my window rolled up in the late October chill, but I could plainly see they were fighting.
The smaller one stood defiantly, the fury on his face almost palpable, even from where I was, but the larger one towered over him, his handsome face contorted into ire of his own.
My heart thudded and I knew I needed to get out of there but something held me in place, staring at the enraged larger male, his blazing green eyes alive as he spat venom at his counterpart.
I opened the door slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself by turning on the car to lower the windows, but I needed to hear what they were arguing about. Inherently, I knew this wasn’t two junkies facing off over an ounce of smack. There was a tangible force flowing between them, one that was ready to erupt any second.
More reason for you to get the hell out of here, my logical voice hissed at me. Are you out of your mind?
Maybe. But I was also a girl who lived a stressful and mundane life. I never ventured out into the world during the wee hours of the morning. I never saw fights or even heard arguments. This was the most excitement I was going to get for the next five years and I wanted to savor every second of it.
“…Tybalt and Anton know you’re here?” the sexy, dark-haired man growled. His voice, albeit angry, was throaty and deep, causing ripples of warmth through my body. He wasn’t speaking loudly yet I could hear his words as clearly as if he were standing beside me.
“I already told you, Inigo, I don’t answer to them—or you.”
There was a smugness in the smaller man’s tone but I could also hear the waver in his words.
He’s afraid of Inigo, I realized and for some reason the knowledge only aroused me more. I was entranced with what was happening, confused but enthralled all the same, silently rooting for the larger man to win this battle. The gorgeous one, Inigo, advanced further and the other man tried to square his shoulders but even I could tell he was no match. Before I knew what was happening, Inigo lifted him clear off his feet, his fists curved into the lapels of the other man’s jacket, eyes boring into his face.
“I’m not going to tell you again, Elia,” Inigo hissed. “If I see you in these parts again, I don’t need to explain what’s going to happen to you.”
Elia whimpered and tried to kick his assailant off of him but Inigo’s knuckles clenched with more intensity as he drew his face evenly to Elia’s, still suspending him.
“Look at my face, Elia,” Inigo whispered and still, I could hear him so clearly. Was I reading his lips or was he in my head? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was feeling heady as I continued to gape at the scene, my head partially lowered below the glass, eyes peeking upward.
“I want you to understand my words,” Inigo continued.
Elia whined.
“I understand,” he mumbled, still squirming futilely against Inigo’s powerful grip. “Put me down!”
Unceremoniously, Inigo released his hold and Elia fell into a pile on the ground. Without immediately rising, he looked up balefully, baring his teeth, and for a strange moment, I thought he might lunge at Inigo. My hand tensed on the car door, ready to fling it open and come to
Inigo’s defense, but my worry was for naught. Just as quickly as he had glared his eyes, Elia turned away, crawling backward to escape Inigo’s deadpan expression. Whatever he had seen in the handsome man’s face had been enough to deter him from acting.
I fell back against the seat, my pulse erratic as if I had been the one involved in the showdown. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to get my bearings. I needed to get out of there before Inigo caught me spying on him. Whatever the fight had been about, it had nothing to do with me. Moreover, it wasn’t about Girl Guide cookies. I’d witnessed something with dark undertones, something I had no interest in getting involved in.
Suddenly, someone was knocking on the passenger side window. A small scream of shock escaped my lips before my eyes could spring open. When they did, I exhaled. The clerk peered in the window, his face a mask of concern.
“Are you all right, madam?” he demanded. “Why are you sitting here?”
I somehow managed a weak smile, pulling the car door shut and putting my key in the ignition to roll down the window. Clearly he hadn’t seen the fight and it was over now. There was no need to alarm him.
“I-I’m just leaving,” I replied shakily. “Sorry to have worried you.”
He nodded curtly, stepping back from my vehicle, but as he did, I saw another figure approaching from my driver’s side. I didn’t have to look fully to know who it was.
Inigo was joining the party.
5
Inigo
How did I not see her before?
I could have kicked myself as I rushed toward the red Infiniti, parked front and center outside the Late-Mart.
The truth was, I hadn’t even realized I’d dragged Elia that far, our beef starting at the back door, near the dumpster. That fool had enraged me so much, I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings, and now I’d almost done damage.
But you didn’t. All she saw was two men fighting. She didn’t see anything else.
I was lucky. The desire to shift and tear Elia’s throat out had almost gotten the best of me. How many times had the sneaky panther been told to leave town? He had been banished from his claw over a year earlier, his criminal ways too much for even the Protectors to keep under control. Banishment was a last resort but in Elia’s case, it was warranted. The shifter just could not stop robbing and assaulting, both humans and his claw members alike. For the most part, the Protectors dealt with their respective beings but in Elia’s situation, it had been all hands on deck. He was a loose cannon and needed to be stopped.