“For example,” he said, “I can break your fingers.” He smiled and took a step forward. “Or I can break your arm.”
Grant’s vision flared from acute pain as his left humerus snapped. He cried out and crumpled to his knees on the dirty floor. Sweat dripped from his face, trailed down his dark skin in thin, wet rivulets. He gasped for air, and his vision blurred. “You said you just wanted to talk,” he said through gritted teeth. “You said you wanted to make a deal.”
“I obviously lied.” Jaxon took another step forward, then another, until he was in front of Grant. He knelt down, forearms resting on his knees, and smiled at the cop. “Wow. Must really hurt.” He smiled a genuine smile, then stood and casually kicked Grant’s gun into a corner, the weapon making a grating noise along the floor.
“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit, I will fucking end you, I will fucking—”
“Right, right,” Jaxon interrupted. “You’re going to kill me, I’m going to regret this, blah, blah, blah.” He smiled again. “You all say the same thing.”
Grant fell quiet. The only sound he heard was the thumping of his elevated heart rate.
“Tell me where Vance is,” Jaxon said quietly. “I’ll end you quickly if you give him up.”
“I don’t know,” Grant said quickly. “He went into hiding after the night on the—” He never finished his sentence. Instead, he screamed in agony as his right forearm snapped, and he fell back, his spine bumping on the concrete. His cry was long and rough.
“I can do smaller bones, too. Like I did with your fingers.” Jaxon took a few steps back and tilted his head. Grant gasped as first one, then two ribs cracked. The pain in his body caused his vision to swim, and his mind drifted.
When his consciousness returned, he saw the ceiling above him, open and full of pipes and wiring. He was breathing hard, and his face was wet, a mixture of sweat and tears.
“I don’t...know...where Vance went...” he panted, voice low.
“Then give me someone else. Give me Emma.”
Grant’s tortured mind flashed and he thought one word: Boston. “Vance took them all with. Everyone’s in hiding.”
“Funny. I don’t believe you. Know why?”
“I don’t care.” Grant’s body twitched involuntarily and he cried out at the pain the movement caused.
“Because we already captured Isaac.”
Oh, God. Oh, no. Grant squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’ve been killing your other high ups for the last week. Now, give me someone.” He tilted his head. “Do you know how many bones there are in your body? How many teeth you have in your skull? I can do this for days. Let you sit and rot from infection. How does that sound? Or,” Jaxon stepped forward and stood over Grant, “you can give me someone.”
“F...f...f...” Grant couldn’t get the word out, and Jaxon leaned closer, eagerness in his eyes.
“F...fuck you,” Grant yelled.
Jaxon’s face changed. His brows dropped over his eyes, and his upper lip curled in disgust. Before Grant could comprehend the movement, the toe of Jaxon’s shoe slammed into his bicep, flaring the pain of his broken arm so suddenly that Grant turned his head and vomited.
“Have it your way.” Jaxon walked away from Grant, who writhed on the floor, and planted his feet a few yards down the unfinished room. “See, I can break bones, but I still haven’t perfected a few things. Such as making tiny, itty bitty lacerations. Dunno why, but I’m still practicing. Until then,” he lifted his hands to the side and tilted his head backward, “I still need my wraiths.”
Jaxon’s eyes turned a milky white, and Grant screamed. Mist formed almost instantly around the men, completely obliterating their surroundings. Seconds later, the figures appeared, somehow more terrifying and horrific than the glimpse he’d gotten of them on the rooftop months ago. Grant cried out again as two of them lifted his body from the floor and dragged him away from Jaxon savagely. His back slammed into the wall, and he lost consciousness.
Grant floated in a hazy red fog for what seemed like a long, long time. His mind kept focusing on Boston, on Vance’s hideout in Northern California, on how Isaac was going to Emma and that he was going to meet with them with his wife and kid. How they were all so close to escaping Vance’s hold. On the dead dog he’d personally removed from her apartment the night of Alex’s attack, the collar he’d slipped into his jacket pocket to later give to Isaac. On Alex’s smashed face.
Suddenly, his mind snapped forward and he opened his eyes.
“Hey, you’re back.” Jaxon was grinning. “Gonna give me a name, or do I keep this up?”
An intense burning sensation flared along Grant’s chest, and he looked down to see his shirt had been shredded to expose his flesh. While he’d been passed out, Jaxon had taken it upon himself to flay the skin from Grant’s body, one strip at a time. The entire left side of his torso, beginning just under his nipple, was bright red and oozing drips of blood, with only a few inches of intact skin left underneath his belly button. He opened his mouth to scream, but his voice was so hoarse by then, it only came out as a drawn out rasp.
“Yeah,” Jaxon said, his eyes pure white. “You look awful.” He laughed, then his head twitched, tossing his black hair and sending a wraith to peel another ribbon of skin from Grant’s stomach. The agony was unbearable, so acute, and so relentless that the word just slipped out.
“Boston!”
The wraith ceased its movements.
“What’s in Boston?” Jaxon asked quietly.
Grant gritted his teeth and his head drooped. The wraith pulled at his skin again and he screamed for the millionth time that night. “Emma! It’s Emma, she’s in Boston. Oh, God. Oh, God, please stop.” Grant continued to babble as he watched a smile stretch Jaxon’s lips.
Chapter Seventeen
NOW
2016
“Emma.” She heard Isaac whisper her name and pulled herself forth from unconsciousness in a slow crawl. “Emma.”
“Hmm?”
“Emma, wake up.”
Something was wrong. It wasn’t Isaac’s voice. She opened her eyes and saw a man hunched over her on the couch in the darkness. Emma choked on a sharp intake of breath and reached out for Isaac, but he was gone. Her eyes focused and she felt her heart stop. A flush of adrenaline swam through her stomach and up to her chest as she took in the dark, wild hair, clawed neck, and torn skin of Alex. She opened her mouth and screamed. His punctured left eye trickled a gelatinous film as he smiled. Emma thrashed wildly but his hand shoved her back down onto the cushions. He began to laugh.
“Everything's your fault.” Alex’s voice was hoarse and choked.
She screamed again.
His hands moved up, crusted in dried blood from the wraith’s attacks, and he held her face almost gingerly between his fingers. She thrashed in his grasp but couldn’t get up, couldn’t get away, couldn’t breathe.
“Emma,” he said again.
“Get away from me!” she yelled.
“Emma.” His grin was maddeningly horrific. “Emma!”
Her eyes snapped open and she saw Isaac’s face over hers, green eyes burning with worry. He held her face between his hands and wore a wild, concerned expression. He pulled her up and into a gentle hug. Struggling to control her fear, Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and watched her tears created small, dark splatters on his shirt.
Isaac held her for a long time, until her breathing slowed and her heart calmed. Eyes finally dry, she put her face in her hands and stared at the floor between spread fingers.
“What can I do?” Isaac said softly. He rested a hand on her back and scooted closer to her. “Tell me how I can help.”
Emma didn’t respond. She was too focused on the nightmarish face of Alex, back from the dead, as he reached for her. Her tears had stopped, but her heart still raced, and in a flash of blind rage she stood, gripped the glass of water still on the coffee table, and flung it against her wall. Anger burned inside
of her as shattered pieces littered the cheap vinyl that covered her living room. Isaac flinched as the glass hit, then instantly stood and grabbed her by the shoulders. Emma shrugged him off and started to pace, fists clenched, breath expelling from her nose in short, loud bursts.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m here.” He cautiously moved in front of her to stop her ferocious wandering and placed his hands on her face. He was gentle, so gentle, so calm and comforting, and she felt her fury fizzle. “Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”
Drained, Emma’s body drooped, and her head moved in a nearly imperceptible nod. She let Isaac lead her to the entrance to her bedroom. Halfway to her mattress, she paused and turned back.
“Stay with me?” she asked quietly.
He smiled. Without a word, Isaac stepped into the bedroom. He put a comforting arm around her back and together they settled onto her bed in the darkness of the night.
—-
Isaac lay awake hours after Emma drifted off, too overwhelmed to fall asleep. Eyes fully adjusted to the dark room, he gazed at her sleeping form next to him, not for the first time that night. She was curled into a slight ball, one hand underneath her pillow and the other lost in the tangles of her sheets. A few brown locks rested along her cheek as she slept, and Isaac gently reached over, brushing them away. He let his fingertips linger softly along her jaw for a moment, then sighed and turned his eyes back to the ceiling.
I feel the same way about you...
Regardless of the emotional rollercoaster they’d both been on that night, all he felt now was joy and happiness. He’d finally told her. She loved him back. There was now nothing on Earth that could come between them. Smiling, he began to drift.
Isaac woke with a start, the remnants of a dream filled with dark swirling mist fading from his mind. He was on his side, facing away from Emma. The legs of his pajama pants were bunched up around his knees, the comforter kicked half off of his body, which had left one of his bare feet exposed. The grogginess of slumber faded quickly as he recalled the events of the night before, and he rolled over.
“Emma,” he murmured. “What time is—”
She wasn’t there.
—-
Emma stared down at the small plate in front of her, which was occupied by a generous slice of strawberry pie. She poked at it with the tines of a fork. When she’d opened her eyes after a fitful night of sleep, dawn had broken, its soft light creating a blue haze in the room. Instead of attempting sleep once more, she had glanced at Isaac, who was asleep on his back, head rolled away from her, one hand on his chest. Slowly, she had scooted closer to him and rested her lips against his cheek in a soft kiss, then eased herself out of the bed carefully, so as to not disturb him. Emma had padded to the kitchen, where she sat staring at a piece of pie for at least an hour before she heard movements from her bedroom.
She looked up in time to see a wild-eyed Isaac run into view. Her heart fluttered and she dropped her fork with a loud clatter.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” She slid off of her stool.
When he saw her, obvious relief replaced his look of terror. “Oh,” he said. “Emma, I woke up and you were gone. I thought...I’m sorry, I was just worried.” He chuckled at his foolishness, shrugged, scratched the side of his head, then went into the bathroom and shut the door.
Emma took a shaky breath to slow her heart. She sat back on her stool, legs swinging slightly, and took a bite of pie. The strawberries still tasted fresh, and she hungrily took another bite. As she chewed, her mind wandered to the nightmare with Alex. How his face had looked with strips of skin torn away, how his eye leaked down to his chin. She swore she’d been able to feel it drip on her as he had hovered above her in the dream, and the pie suddenly turned sour in her mouth. Emma pushed the plate away as the door to the bathroom opened. She jumped, fork still in hand.
“Aw, man,” Isaac said. “Don’t tell me you ate the whole pie! I’m starving.” He grinned as he approached where she sat.
Emma smiled, but couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Instead she stared back down at the dessert once more, sliding a thin silver tine into the crust.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Hey,” Isaac’s face grew serious, his eyes concerned. “Hey, come on, Emma,” he said softly and stood from his chair. He positioned himself next to her barstool, reached out and tilted her face up towards his with a finger. “What’s wrong?”
His voice was quiet, which made it even more difficult for her to keep her emotions in check. “I said I’m fine,” she said, and pulled her face from him to look down at her pie again. “I’m tired, as always.”
“Wanna go back to bed? It is quite early for you to be up,” he joked.
Emma scoffed. “What, and just toss and turn while I have some more nightmares? Fuck that.”
“Maybe you need to get off of those pills,” he said in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just so sick of this, of being scared. And you know what? I’m sick of hiding from Jaxon instead of doing something about him. Not that I don’t like it here, it’s just...what if he gets stronger while we sit around? Whatever he is. What the fuck were those things on the roof? How is any of that even possible? He’ll kill us, Isaac. Plus,” she added. “I just...I’m...” Emma couldn’t bring herself to talk about her feelings quite yet, and trailed off, eyes still intent on her food.
“We’ll get it figured out. No one’s going to die, okay?” Isaac leaned against the countertop of the island and crossed his arms. His brow furrowed when she didn’t respond. “Not hungry?” He nodded toward the pie she’d been poking.
“Nah, not really.” She sighed and pushed the plate even further away from her, the ceramic bottom scraping along the counter with a slight grating noise.
“Well, fine.” Isaac pulled the food toward him. “If you’re not going to eat my pie...” Isaac picked the entire piece of dessert up with his hands, opened his mouth wide, and shoved it into his face. Crumbs and filling spilled from his mouth and fingers, coating his lips and cheeks. His eyes stayed locked onto Emma, who, despite her depression, was trying hard not to giggle.
“See?” Isaac said with his mouth full. “I’s delithouth!”
Emma burst into a laugh. Isaac chewed a bit longer, then swallowed more than once and laughed. Crumbs were stuck to his cheeks, and the dark red filling was smeared here and there on his lips.
“You look ridiculous.” Emma said once her laughter subsided.
“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Well let’s see what you look like with pie all over your face!”
Her eyes went wide and her smile dropped from her lips. “You wouldn’t....”
Isaac bent his knees and dropped into a slight crouch, his hands up and fingers curled in her direction, a wicked grin on his messy lips. He paused, then leapt forward.
Emma let out a loud squeal and jumped from her stool away from his outstretched arms. She twisted around and was able to avoid his grasp, but yelped again when she turned and saw him quickly advance in her direction. Laughing, she turned and ran into her living room, planting herself behind her couch to watch him come to a stop on the other side.
“You’re not getting away” Isaac began to circle the couch. “This is going to happen. Just accept your fate.” They completed a full circuit around the living room in a slow pace. Her legs were tense in anticipation, and she watched him carefully, knowing he could bolt toward her at any moment.
Emma grinned. “You know I could totally take you down.”
“Nope. I’m too fast.” Isaac bounded forward and flung himself over the couch in one quick motion.
She’d predicted the move, but still let him do it before she squealed again and turned to run. Part of her wanted him to catch her if only for an excuse to feel him close to her for a moment, to continue to forget the darkness that hovered over her. She shot into her bedroom with a giggle as his fingers brushed her back, aiming for the
bathroom.
“Why don’t you want my piiiiiie?” Isaac lunged forward in a burst of speed and caught her around the waist moments before she could reach the door. He ignored her cry of protest and held tight, pulling her hips back toward him. Emma’s breath left her momentarily as he spun her around, pulled her face forward with a hand on the back of her neck, and kissed her full on the mouth.
At first, their bodies were rigid against each other, uncertain. Emma slid her fingers into the curly tangles of his hair and kissed him back. Her heart melted. His right hand rose to caress her cheek. She could feel his heart racing in time with hers. Her entire body tingled. Emma felt him moan against her mouth. She pulled away, short of breath. She slid one hand from his hair and trailed a finger along his jaw, her eyes never faltering from his, her breath coming out in quick gasps.
“You taste like strawberries,” she whispered with a smile.
“I told you the pie was good,” he murmured, then bent his head down and kissed her again. His lips were soft against hers. Emma felt waves of joy mixed with desire and pure love tumbling through her, lost in the moment she’d wanted to experience for the last seven years. She didn’t want it to end, didn’t even want to move lest he let go of her. She could feel the pie crumbs that hadn’t fallen to the floor of her bedroom pressing against her face, could feel the stickiness of the filling on her lips, but all she cared about was him.
They broke apart again, and Emma rested her forehead against his, eyes closed, reveling in the intense physical waves of happiness her body was undergoing. “I love you.” She pulled away slightly and gazed into his perfect green eyes, then took him by his hand and began to direct him toward the bed.
—-
“I...” Isaac’s cheeks were flushed as he glanced around. “We shouldn’t...I mean, what if....” he couldn’t get a full sentence to come out of his mouth.
“There are no ‘what ifs’ right now, Isaac,” Emma said. She used her finger to wipe off the last smudge of filling from his face, her fingers soft against his day old stubble. He slid his hand to the back of her neck and his heart soared once more, free from the cage he’d closed it in whenever she was around. He was very aware of his body’s reaction to her closeness, as she surely was too, but he still hesitated.
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