by Cece Rose
“I don’t know, can you?” I ask, keeping my expression deadpan. I really don’t have time for this. Bug off, beady eyes. I glance again across the club toward the roped off stairs, the same stairs Erik and his brother were escorted up ten minutes ago. Erik reassured me it would be fine as he left, but I could see the worry set into his eyes. This can’t be good.
“Fuck off, Robbie,” one of the bartenders says, as he lays another drink down in front of me.
“I didn’t order this,” I mumble, pushing it back towards the bartender.
“I did,” another voice answers. I look back in the direction of the guy who offered me a drink and notice a much taller man standing behind him. Robbie turns around. “Buzz off, Robert,” the taller man growls. Robbie backs up, pretty much scrambling away. He barely casts a glance back over his shoulder as he leaves.
“I didn’t say you could buy me a drink either,” I snap. I shove the drink along the bar, back towards him and deliberately turn my back on the man. A rich laugh sets the hair at the back of my neck on edge. I almost jump as I feel a feather-light touch caress across my back. His fingers trail along my back and the top of my arm as he walks around me. I look at the man standing before me. A rough stubble across his face, wild, shoulder-length hair, and he’s fucking huge, he’s both tall and broad. The thin, sleeveless top he’s wearing leaves nothing to the imagination. Thick muscles, a few noticeable tattoos, and deep-brown eyes. The man is hot as hell, and by the smug look on his face, he damn well knows it.
“You didn’t say no, though,” he says, snapping me out of my staring.
“No. Are you going to go away now?” I ask in the sweetest tone I can manage. I glance back over at the roped-off stairs, praying to see Erik and Jason walk back down them. No such fucking luck. The guy leans against the bar next to me. He looks me up and down, giving me a curious look.
“What kinda shifter are you?” he asks.
“Is that any of your business?” I retort.
“No, but I’m usually pretty good at telling. You must be a turned shifter, I’d bet. You’re not too in touch with your animal yet, it doesn’t seem to show through you the way it does with most shifters.” I roll my eyes. Great. Just what I needed, a reminder of how crap a shifter I am. A shifter that can’t shift, it’s like I’m the universe’s joke.
“l’m not sure that’s any of your business either,” I mutter.
“Guess I hit nail on the head then,” he says with a grin.
“Fine, if you’re going to keep pestering me, can you tell me your name?” I ask, my curiosity winning out. His grin widens.
“Adrian, my name is Adrian. What’s yours?”
“Lena,” I reply, begrudgingly returning his smile, finding it somewhat infectious. “So, what are you then?” I add. “Seeing as you asked me?”
“I’m a lone wolf, darling. But more interestingly, what are you?” he asks.
“I’m a turned wolf, I guess. Not that I’ve seen any evidence of my wolf side yet,” I mutter.
“So, you are new to this,” he responds.
“Tragically,” I reply.
“Selena,” a familiar voice falls over me.
“You’re back.”
“Adrian,” he greets, voice flat.
“Erik,” Adrian responds, smiling wide.
Erik ignores Adrian, and leans down to whisper into my ear. “We’ve got to go, now.”
“Is it…?”
“He is coming in now, we’ve got about two minutes to be out of here.” I feel like that time I did the ice bucket challenge. So completely and suddenly wide awake and alert. We need to move.
“Nice meeting you, Adrian, but I have to go. Thanks for the drink,” I mumble as Erik grabs on my shoulders and directs me away. He calls after us saying something, but his words don’t register.
“Where’s Jason?”
“Distracting Cyrus.”
“Shit.”
“Shit,” he agrees. “Come on, move faster,” he snaps. We weave between the people, hastily making our way towards a set of metal stairs. We take the stairs two at a time, quickly making our way out. Just as we reach the top, I feel eyes on me. I turn my head to look across the vast space. On the opposite side, standing at the top of a flight of stairs, is Cyrus. He stands still, staring at me for a moment, I freeze staring right back. “Selena, snap the fuck out of it,” Erik shouts at me, giving me a little shove towards the exit.
Cyrus moves, quicker than I could possibly imagine. Instead of walking down the stairs like a normal person, he vaults over the railing and jumps. He hits the ground in a crouch and quickly stands back up straight. The movement is so precise and well-executed, it looks as if he had no trouble at all. He starts to cross the floor. Shit. Erik grabs hold of my hand and pulls me along at a run. We run up the path, through a set of doors, and up another flight of stairs. As we crash through the main doors that lead us back outside, I turn to Erik.
“I thought you said he wouldn’t try and follow us out?”
“Aisa just informed me differently, she’s of the belief you should be going home to Cyrus.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I reply. I groan in frustration.
“Come on, we haven’t got time for this.” He pulls me along at a run, we dash down the streets, all while I swear I can sense Cyrus getting closer. A hunter taking down its prey, hiding in the shadows until it lunges in for the kill. Erik drags me around another corner and pulls out a set of keys, heading toward an unfamiliar BMW. “Jason’s,” he mutters, answering my unvoiced question as he unlocks the car with a click.
I wrench open the car door and slide into the passenger seat, closing the door with a slam behind me. Erik’s already starting the car up. Fuck, he’s fast. “Put your fucking seat belt on,” he snaps. I do as he says, and he slams down on the accelerator, speeding us the fuck out of there. As we speed down the streets, I stare out the car window, watching every shadow for sign of danger. Just as I finally begin to relax into my seat, a long howl reaches my ears. The harrowing sound echoing out into the night.
Chapter Four
We walk down the hallway of the hotel, not speaking, and walking so quietly, I doubt even those with shifter hearing can hear us. A loud bang sounds, harshly breaking the silence. Suddenly, I find myself slammed up against the wall, with Erik’s body pressed hard against mine, covering me. We stand silently for a moment. I try to peer around him, but he holds me tightly in place. Another few bangs go off and Erik’s body relaxes against mine, he chuckles and leans his head against the wall and lets out a deep breath.
“Just fucking fireworks,” he murmurs softly. I relax against him, resting my head against his chest and breathingin and out deeply. We are both way too jumpy right now. That was such a close call back there. We’ve had a couple run-ins with members of the pack, but to actually be in the same room as Cyrus, was a whole new level.
“You scared the fucking life out of me,” I mutter.
“I’d rather be safe, than sorry,” he whispers into my ear softly, his tone a unique mixture of gravel and honey. Suddenly, I’m all too aware of his warm body pressed up against mine. And, even more aware of the fact, certain parts of his body, feel really damn aware of the fact they’re pressed up against me. I try to move out the way, but his grip tightens around my waist, holding me firmly in place.
“Erik—” I begin, my following words cut off by lips pressed firmly against my own. For a split second the more reasonable side of my brain wonders whether I should be doing this, but I shut that fun-time ruining bitch up quickly by returning Erik’s kiss.
I run my hands up under the back of his shirt, before moving them towards his front, grazing my fingers lightly over his chest and abs. He tightens his grip around my waist, his fingers biting into my hips, as he kisses me harder. The feeling of the kiss is so intense I barely remember to breathe. His hands slide down from my waist, and he pulls me up so he doesn’t have to bend down so much to keep his lips locked on mine.
I wrap my legs around him as I wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips part, and I’m shocked by the sensation of his tongue, the piercing creating an extra sensation I’m not accustomed to. I moan into his mouth, tightening my legs around him, feeling like our bodies completely meld together. He presses me harder against the wall, his body completely trapping mine. I tug on his dark silky strands of hair and he groans, before nipping my bottom lip.
I hear a muffled sound coming from somewhere, but ignore it. There is nothing else I want to focus on right now. Our tongues tangle together, and he tugs on my top, pulling the side of it down. The sound of a door banging against its hinges causes us both to jump. I slide down Erik’s body and lean back up against the wall, breathing heavily. He steps back and turns in the direction of the noise. An older man is standing by a door across the hall from us, staring.
Oh my God. Why? I feel my face flame as Erik laces his hand in mine and tugs me after him, pulling me towards our room. The old man watches us as we leave, his sharp eyes following us as we walk down the hall, unlock our door, and only once our door closes behind us, do I relax.
“Mortified,” I mutter. Erik laughs and pulls me towards him, he leans down as if to kiss me again. The bed behind him catches my eye. Shit, this isn’t a good idea. I pull away, and he frowns.
“Selena?” he questions softly. I step back and mumble something probably incoherent. I move quickly toward the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I put my back to it, and slide down onto the floor.
Shit. Why the fuck did we have to go and make things awkward? I’m not looking for casual sex. And, I’m definitely not in a position for anything more. Not with Cyrus after me, and Melissa missing. There’s also the fact he’s the only thing keeping me alive and out of Cyrus’ clutches right now. I can’t risk ruining whatever it is that’s motivated him to help me, over bad feelings left from the fallout of whatever this is. I take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm myself.
“Selena?” A light knocking follows on the bathroom door. Shit. Maybe if I stay quiet he’ll go away? He knocks again, harder. “Selena, open the damn door.” I guess not.
I sigh, and then slowly I stand up, turn, and unlock the door. I stare at him for a moment. His blue eyes as unreadable as ever as he stares at me. I open my mouth to explain, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand.
“You don’t need to say anything, it’s fine, I get it,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t be,” he responds. “Look, we should probably get some sleep. We need to leave early if we’re going to make it to where we’re going in time to cross.”
“Cross?” I question, confused.
“Into Seelie. We can only cross four times a year, the next crossing time is tomorrow.” He pulls the brown, folded-up envelope from his back pocket. “And, we have two signed permissions to cross.”
“Seelie? Like fairies?”
“The very same,” he answers, stepping back. He crosses the room and sits on the sofa.
“Wait, if you can only cross four times a year, we’d be stuck there, wouldn’t we?”
“More like safe there, he wouldn’t be able to follow us.”
“I can’t go,” I respond quickly. I have to find Melissa. I have to find a way to solve this mess. I can’t just keep running.
“You’re kidding me, right? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get my hands on these? What I had to do for them?” his voice raises slightly, something flickers in his normally cold, blue eyes.
“I never asked you to do anything. I’m not going.” I cross my arms over my chest and cock my hip. He looks me up and down for a moment, seeming to contemplate it for a moment, before shrugging and turning away.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll think of a new plan.”
“One that doesn’t involve running. I need to try and find Melissa.” I say the last part softly, barely able to say her name.
“You know…you know you might not like what you find, right?”
“You told me James never came back, and that it’s still not certain what happened. I know she’s out there,” I reply softly.
“Then we’ll look,” he responds, his tone softening. “Look get some sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna grab a quick shower first,” I mumble. I grab one of my bags and head towards the bathroom.
“Selena?” he calls after me.
“Yeah?” I whisper, knowing he’ll be able to hear me.
“If you change your mind, tell me.”
I nod in agreement and then slip into the bathroom, locking the door again behind me.
~ ~ ~
The sound of someone talking softly pulls me out of my light sleep. I slip from the bed and slowly creep my way towards the door to the hallway, where I hear the conversation coming from. I press my ear to the door and try to focus on the words. I catch Erik’s voice first. “And you’re sure this will keep her knocked out for the trip?”
“I’m sure, she won’t wake for at least twelve hours. You’ll have plenty of time to get there,” Jason’s voice answers, mimicking Erik’s low tone. The freaking bastard. He’s planning to drug me!
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jason asks.
“I don’t have a choice. It’s not safe for her here. It’s not just Cyrus we have to worry about. I’d rather she be pissed off than dead,” Erik’s voice replies.
“So long as you’re sure.”
I step away from the door, not needing to hear anything more. Fuck. I look around frantically, I quickly shove one of my hoodies over the top of the plain, black pyjama top and leggings which I have been sleeping in. I slip my shoes on, and grab my duffle bag, making my way to the French doors that lead out onto the balcony. I can’t believe I’m having to try and escape a place to get away from a controlling shifter, again. I doubt my luck can get any worse, but fate is a twisted bastard. So, I tap my knuckles onto the wooden dresser as I pass it by.
The cool, night air hits me as I open the French doors quietly. Giving the room a last glance, I notice car keys on the table, on a whim I grab them and quickly make my exit. I close the doors softly behind me, and eye up my possible escape routes.
The balcony is small, barely room for the two chairs that are squished in. The barrier between the rooms balconies isn’t that high. I look left then right. Towards the right, I notice what looks to be the metal railings of a fire escape. Bingo. I throw my duffle over the wall and lift myself over, before jumping down after it. I repeat the process three times before I reach the end of the row. I look around, and down the side of the building is what I’d hoped for. I’m not that high up, only on the second floor, so I throw my duffle to the ground, feeling glad there isn’t anything fragile to break in there. I eye the wall, I’m going to have to climb a little to get to the stairs, as they lead down from what looks to be a fire exit that comes off from the main hotel corridor on each floor. I can do this, it’s not even that hard, I’ve just got to get up on to that bit of wall and then lift myself over the railing.
I manage to pull myself onto the stairs, when I hear a set of balcony doors open. I flatten myself up against the wall. After a few moments, I peek back around. A woman is standing on one of the balconies, looking out at the view. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn back around, hurriedly making my way down the stairs. When I reach the bottom, I grab for my duffle bag and rest the strap over my shoulder. Without casting a glance back at the place, I move as fast as I can away.
Once I’m sure the way into Seelie is shut, I’m going to kill him for this.
End of Part Two. Turn the page for a short sneak peek at part three, Rejecting Fate!
Rejecting Fate
I pull my phone out and check the time again. 01:38AM. He’s already an hour and a half late. I nervously cast my eyes around Shiftz. Why did he have to insist on meeting here? I again flick through our text messages. Erik was fucking pissed, but surely not mad enough to risk getting
caught by Cyrus. I pause over the text explaining that Shiftz was safe tonight, a different one of the three owners in. One that apparently, was extremely mad at Aisa for breaching club rules. Shiftz works because it’s neutral, to take a side was to ruin the whole philosophy of the place. Or so Erik said, anyway.
I sip at my drink considering whether or not I should keep waiting, beginning to fear something may have happened to Erik. My phone buzzes drawing me out of my morbid thoughts.
Sorry, something happened. On my way now, I’ll explain when I get there. See you in fifteen.
At least I know he’s still coming. I sigh, reaching for my drink again.
“Lena, isn’t it?” I look up to the owner of the deep voice, Adrian. “Fancy seeing you here again, you left in quite a rush yesterday.”
“Yeah, I did. Sorry about that,” I answer. I attempt to look busy on my phone, hoping he’ll go away, however, he doesn’t seem to get the message. He slides into the booth across from me, and pushes a drink towards me. I swear shifters have no sense of tact or personal space. “Look,” I begin.
“Relax, you’re pretty, but I can also tell when someone’s not interested. I’m not here to seduce you,” he interrupts me softly, humour lacing his voice.
“Then what are you here for?” I ask, looking up at him.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?”
“I don’t have any enemies,” I mutter.
“It sure as hell didn’t look like you were on the best of terms with the local wolf pack.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” I narrow my eyes on him. “What’s your game, what do you want?”
“I want Cyrus Hunter dead.” He pauses, assessing my face for a reaction. I try to keep my face a blank mask. He shrugs and then adds, “And, I want you to help me do it.”