“There's probably time for food though, right?” I chimed in.
My stomach was cramping terribly from the lack of food over the last few days. Alaric and James didn't seem affected by it, but they didn't seem affected by a lot of things. Me, I needed food and a nice warm coat.
Alaric pulled me toward him and wrapped an arm around me. My first instinct was to fight, but I was freezing, tired, and hungry. I simply didn't have any fight left, and his body heat was one small comfort I wasn't willing to refuse.
James gave us an irritated look, but didn't comment. Instead, we all began walking again, following the sounds of traffic.
Soon we started seeing houses here and there, and our footing transitioned from dirt and pine needles to sidewalk and asphalt. I didn't recognize where we were, but Spokane is a large city, and there was no way for me to be familiar with all of the suburbs.
As darkness fully fell, we reached a small strip mall. The smell of cooking food wafted out of a few restaurants, but the few clothing stores had already closed.
“Get her something to eat,” James instructed as he looked at Alaric. “I'll find her a coat.”
I raised a finger in the air. “And some socks . . . if you don't mind.”
James sighed loudly, then disappeared into the darkness, presumably to steal me a coat. Alaric ushered me forward toward the nearest restaurant, a small pasta/pizza place.
“It's like we're going on our first date,” Alaric intoned happily as he practically skipped along.
I glared up at him as he gently urged me toward the restaurant. “The first date usually occurs before the breakup, and it definitely occurs before the . . . ” I trailed off, not wanting to say what I had originally intended.
“The sex?” Alaric finished for me. “So we like to do things backwards,” he went on, “it's part of our charm.”
“There is no we or our,” I corrected, “and this is not a date.”
“No roses, no wine,” Alaric joked. “Got it.”
“Wonderful,” I grumbled.
Alaric held the door for me as we went inside the small restaurant. Nervous, I pulled my hair forward to cover my face. The chances that someone would recognize me as a missing person were slim, but it was still a possibility that I'd rather avoid.
I received a few odd glances at my tattered dress, though the glances were probably more because of the small amount of fabric I was wearing in the cold weather than the state of my clothing. Grunge was in again, or so I'd heard.
It was a seat-yourself restaurant, so Alaric quickly led us to a corner table where we could have our backs to the wall in case anyone tried to sneak up on us.
I glanced around the room nervously as we sat. “I feel like maybe we should have just gotten fast food,” I whispered.
Alaric sat in a slouched position like he hadn't a care in the world. “I don't eat fast food,” he replied. “That stuff will kill you.”
I laughed quietly. “If five-hundred years of living among the Vaettir doesn't kill you, the fast food surely will.”
Alaric smiled and raised an eyebrow at my joke, then turned as a young waitress came to the table to take our drink orders. Her eyes lingered on Alaric for longer than was polite, and she looked a little confused as she took in my disheveled, frizz-haired appearance.
I ordered an iced tea and gave the waitress an uncomfortable amount of eye-contact. Alaric ordered a glass of red wine and gave the waitress a cheerful wink, completely undermining the hopefully intimidating stare I had going on.
“I thought you said no wine,” I grumbled as the waitress walked away with a smile on her face.
“I lied,” he said simply. “I'm supposed to be a liar, remember?”
“And here I'd thought you'd changed,” I said sarcastically.
Alaric feigned a hurt expression. “Well at least you're talking to me now.”
I opened my mouth to argue that I was only talking to him since he was the only company present, but the waitress came back and placed our drinks in front of us. I hadn't had time to look at the menu, but it would have been a moot point as Alaric started ordering for us: fettuccine, spinach lasagna, mozzarella sticks, fried mushrooms, a pizza, and three different deserts.
I looked at him in astonishment as the waitress walked away. “Are we expecting guests?” I asked incredulously.
He winked one dark brown eye at me. “Who knows when our next meal will be? We should enjoy ourselves, for tomorrow we might be dead.”
I stared dejectedly at my iced tea, settled by Alaric's way of thinking. Suddenly I wished that I'd gotten something more extravagant like a strawberry daiquiri or a milkshake. If I was going to die sometime soon, I really didn't want to waste my time with bland iced tea.
Alaric took in my expression, then used his index finger to slowly scoot his glass of red wine in front of me. Not needing any more of an invitation, I wrapped my fingers around the stem of the glass. Alaric smiled as I took a long sip, then offered the glass back to him.
He reached out for the glass, brushing his fingertips across mine as he took it. His expression had lost its playfulness to be replaced by intensity. The look in his eyes made me gulp, and I quickly turned my gaze back to my iced tea.
My attention was drawn to the door as James charged through and I let out a sigh of relief. I didn't know how to deal with the heat in Alaric's eyes, and James was a welcome distraction. He approached our table and handed me a knee-length black coat with a fur-lined hood that I sincerely hoped was faux.
“Put it on and keep your face covered,” he said quickly. “We need to go.”
Alaric stood immediately, taking James' mood seriously. I stood and wrapped the coat around me, wanting to cry at the fact that I was going to miss another meal.
“Socks are in the pocket,” James said to me, “but you'll have to put them on later. Now move.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me forward so that I was walking in front of him. Our waitress watched us leave with what looked like our appetizers in her hands. In fact, the whole restaurant watched us leave.
So much for not making a scene.
“We were tracked,” James said as we spilled out into the parking lot. “Marcus confronted me. He's dead, but there will be more.”
I looked around the parking lot nervously as we walked, but everything in the night was still. Who the hell was Marcus?
“If Marcus was here, then Siobhan won't be far behind,” Alaric said.
Since I didn't know who the people were that they were talking about, I kept my mouth shut and allowed myself to be led down the dark sidewalk and past more closed or closing businesses. We turned and went into the parking lot of a large, abandoned warehouse. The yard was strewn with refuse, and didn't look like it had been used in many years. Whatever suburb we were in, the place had definitely seen better days to leave such a space right in the middle of town.
“Give up the girl,” a female voice said from behind us.
The three of us turned in unison to see a man and a woman standing under the illumination of a streetlight. The woman's long, white coat made her strawberry blonde hair stand out vibrantly in the light. The man looked out of place beside her in his casual street clothes and knit winter cap.
“I don't want to hurt you, Siobhan,” Alaric replied, “but the girl you cannot have.”
As the girl in question, I didn't like being talked about like I wasn't there, but I'd complain later. The mismatched pair left the sidewalk and began to approach us slowly, then everything exploded in chaotic movement.
The next thing I knew, James was shoving me out of the way as the man rushed us, and Alaric had already collided with Siobhan.
As I watched, James' hands seemed to melt through his attacker's chest, and I clutched at my own chest as searing agony hit my skin. At first I couldn't quite make sense of what was happening, especially with my own pain making things confusing, then the smell hit me, and I realized that the man's chest wasn't melting, it was
burning. I was pretty sure I’d just figured out how James had started the fire in the woods.
The man stumbled away into a crouch, then lunged at James as if he didn't have two palm-shaped, scorched craters in his chest. I panted in pain as the pair tumbled to the ground, but the scuffle was short lived as James lifted the man up by his neck. I didn't have much time to contemplate James' apparently super-human strength as his hands burned through the man's neck, cutting off the sound just as he tried to scream. I was glad that it was a quick death, because the moment of pain I'd felt in my throat was almost unbearable. I felt a little rush of energy as the man died, then James cast him aside like a rag doll.
“You burned him,” I croaked in astonishment as I rose from the ground.
“How else did you think I cauterized my victims wounds?” he asked in annoyance as he brushed his hands together to remove the man's charred flesh.
I didn't have time to answer, as Alaric drew my attention with a loud bang against a large, metal dumpster. The woman, Siobhan, had him pinned against it with fingernails that had grown to be as long as daggers at his throat. They seemed sharper too, more like claws than nails.
I opened my mouth to speak, hoping to draw her attention, then someone walked up behind her and shoved a large blade into her lower back and upwards through her stomach. I made a grunt of pain, then Siobhan slumped to the ground, dead, as the weapon withdrew, and Sophie stood before her brother, bloody blade in hand.
“I never liked her,” Sophie commented as she looked down at Siobhan's body.
“I was trying not to kill her,” Alaric answered hotly.
I personally was stunned to see Sophie, but judging by Alaric's expression he was not at all surprised that she'd found us first.
Sophie rolled her eyes at him as James and I approached. “Don't be so sentimental,” Sophie chided, “the two of you dated, what, two-hundred years ago?”
Ignoring Sophie and Alaric's bickering, I kneeled down and released the spirit from Siobhan's body. She was pretty, and I felt like maybe I should be jealous that Alaric had dated her, but really I just appreciated the fact that he didn't want to kill her. Maybe he could be sentimental after all. With that task done, I went and tended to the man James had killed.
“Do I not even get a hello?” Sophie said in irritation at my back.
I turned to glare over my shoulder at her. “Do I not even get an I'm sorry?” I asked in reply.
Sophie had the grace to look abashed. “I did what I had to do, and Maya left me anyway.”
“What?” I asked as I stood and stepped away from the now lifeless corpse, feeling much better with the new burst of energy.
“She was working for Aislin all along,” she explained. She didn't let her pain show in her expression, but I knew that she felt it none-the-less.
“Sorry to break it to you sweetheart,” James interrupted, “but so are we.”
Sophie glared at James for a moment, then turned to her brother. “Is this true?”
Alaric cringed. “I couldn't really argue with the decision.”
Sophie snorted at his answer, but seemed to accept it as well. “We need to move,” she instructed. “I could smell you from a mile away, and there will be more where these two came from.” She gestured to the two corpses on the asphalt.
“Plus,” I added, “we might want to run away from the corpses before someone calls the cops. We're not in the Salr anymore.”
For once everyone listened to me, and we made our way past the abandoned warehouse and into the alleyway behind it.
As we walked, Sophie and Alaric began whispering in a language I didn't recognize. I knew it was probably just so they could talk freely around James, but I didn't appreciate the exclusion. For all I knew, they were talking about running off and leaving James and I to find the charm on our own.
It hit me then that I'd been expecting Alaric to leave since he'd first found us. I'd expected at some point he'd decide that I simply wasn't worth the trouble, and he'd abandon me.
Yet, when we reached a busy street and hailed a cab, Sophie took the front seat, and James and Alaric each slid in on either side of me. When we reached the airport and boarded a plane with Diana, who met us there as planned, Alaric was still by my side. When I fell asleep on his shoulder during the long flight, I vaguely sensed him as he craned his neck to give me a kiss on the top of my head.
It was strange, because in that moment, while we were flying to another land, with danger at our backs, and plenty of more danger to face, for the first time in quite some time, I felt like I was going home.
xx
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Bitter Ashes (Bitter Ashes Book 1) Page 19