Dying Forever (Waking Forever Book 3) (32 page)

“Who are you?” The man managed through his labored breathing.

“
Who
is hardly important.
Why
we are here should be of greater concern to you.” The tall woman with long black hair crouched down next to Tom, the scent of musk and patchouli wafting over him.

“Can we get on with this?” The third woman
, who had disappeared from Tom’s line of sight as soon as the women had entered the room, spoke. He had barely managed to register her heavier frame and short brown pageboy cut hair . Now the venom in the woman’s voice caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

The taller woman rolled her eyes. “Patience is a virtue.”

A quiet laugh came from behind Tom. “What would you know about virtue?”

Shrugging, the woman stood up,
peering down at Tom. “True, but I am well acquainted with vices.”

The three women laughed in unison and the sound sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. He tried to shift, a faint cramp building in his left side from the angle
of his body. The black haired woman, whose gaze had momentarily left Tom, refocused her attentions back on the man and immediately the pressure on his chest, arms, and legs doubled.

“Please
. Whatever you want, I’m sure we can work it out.” Tom forced the panic out of his voice as he strained against the invisible restraints.

The tall woman knelt next to Tom, her brown eyes narrowing as she looked the man up and down. “It seems only fair to tell y
ou that if you don’t cooperate you’ll be dead in about ten minutes.” Standing up, her back to the man, she sighed. “These things can’t be helped.”

Choking back a sob, Tom cleared his throat. “I - I’m sure
we can work it out.” Tears began to stream from the corners of the man’s eyes.  “And if you think I’ll identify you or report you, I promise -”

“Stop.” The woman turned and looked down at the man
, roughly wiping at his face with her hand. “Just stop. Have some dignity.” Rubbing her damp hand over her chest, she took a deep breath. “Some pride.”

A rush of anger and frustrat
ion coursed through Tom, emboldening him as he lifted his head off the floor. “Fuck you!” Turning his rage on the woman at his feet, he practically spat the words.

“Terrible language
, Tom.” Tisking, the woman knelt next to the man. “Where’s Alison Bailey?”

Tom’s eyes widened
when he saw the heavyset woman begin circling him, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “Alison? What does she have to do -” A pain akin to a hot poker being thrust into the man’s right bicep forced a scream from between his clenched teeth. Looking down, his arm was red and inflamed, but nothing was protruding from the wound.

“Victoria has a
special talent. I would encourage you to leave the questions to me or she can relocate that burning to just behind your right eye.” A faint smile spread across the raven haired woman’s lips. “Now - Alison?”

“I - I don’t know.” Tom wouldn’t wish these three women on his worst enemy, much less someone he considered a friend.
He had no intention of turning this pack on Alison. “I haven’t heard from her in over a week.”

“
Yes, she has gone off the grid. Makes the hunt more interesting, if not unnecessarily drawn out.” Standing up, the woman nodded at the short haired woman. A split second later, Tom’s head was spinning as his body was lifted up off the floor and quickly turned over. Static electricity coursed through him.

Upside down
, the blood rushed to Tom’s face as he panted, tears streaming off his face onto the beige carpet. A tearing sound filled the room and his t-shirt fell to the floor in shreds. Unable to turn his head at all now, Tom slammed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the onslaught.

A mild
itch started at the center of his back and began spreading across his shoulder blades. Clamping his teeth together so hard he thought for sure he had shattered them, Tom stifled a scream, determined not to give his tormentors the pleasure.

“More.” The tall woman’s voice broke through Tom’s pain and a moment later the unbearable itching turned into an intense burning. His eye’s
opened as a wave of nausea rippled through him, the putrid scent of burning hair and flesh filling the room seconds before Tom’s lunch came up in a series of violent retches.

The sound of popping and sizzling flesh
emanated from the man’s back as the woman’s voice filled his head. “Alison. Where is she?”

Spittle streamed from his mouth as grunts of agony escaped in spite of his efforts to contain them. The room spun again and the blaze that had consumed his back lessened as the ceiling of his apartment came into focus.

“Fine. Subject change.” The woman ran her fingers along Tom’s exposed chest, the smell of patchouli filling the room. “The articles you’re working on with Alison - who’s seen them?”

Barely able to keep his thoughts in order, and feeling the darkness of unconsciousness creeping into the back of his brain, Tom swallowed. “No - no one.”

He felt a warm hand laid flat on his chest as the woman’s lips were pressed to his ear. “This has not gone as well as I would have hoped.” The woman’s hand felt as if it were vibrating on Tom’s chest as his heart began to pound in his throat and ears. “Let’s speed you up a bit, get those creative juices flowing as they say.”

“Sto - I can’t -” Unable to catch his breath, Tom’s body began to spasm.

“Wait - not yet.” The woman’s hand was still on his chest. “Alison?”

Tom knew no matter what he told the woman, she would kill him. The realization that he was going to die washed over him and he was surprised when no sense of fear or dread followed. In the end, it was a simple notion, a soothing realization that he cared for Alison and
would protect her. He was relieved at how easily he had found the courage to defy his tormentor.

His throat burned and when he spoke, Tom’s voice was tight and low.
“Go to hell.”

“What a waste.” The woman sighed and moved away from Tom. Looking at Victoria
, she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together absently. “Burn him. Slowly. From the inside out.”

“I don’t think we should be doing this, Ash.” Alison looked over her shoulder as the detective picked the lock of Tom Hutchinson’s apartment.

“This is no time to go ACLU on me
, Ali. The man is a no show for our meeting and isn’t answering his phone.” Ash stopped the work on the lock and looked at Alison. “Besides -” Frowning, she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Besides what?” Alison felt a pang of panic at the dire look on Ash’s face.

Crinkling her nose, Ash resumed her work on the lock. “It doesn’t smell great in there.”

Alison took a deep breath through her nose. “I don’t smell anything.”

A series of clicks came from the deadbolt and Ash put the two thin metal pins she had been using in her pant pocket. “Perk of the whole shifter thing.” Tapping the side of her nose with her index finger, she took a deep breath. “Or curse, depending on what I’m smelling. Wait here.”

Alison wasn’t inclined to argue with her friend. If something horrible had happened to Tom, she knew she didn’t have the stomach to not make the scene worse by
vomiting.

Ash opened the door and
, entering the apartment, quickly closed the door behind her, leaving Alison alone in the walkway. After nearly five minutes, Alison gently knocked on the door. “Ash?” She waited, her stomach turning as her heart raced, a thin film of sweat forming on her brow. When no reply came, she slowly turned the doorknob.

Opening the door just enough to see the beige Berber carpet that lined the entryway, Alison raised her voice. “Tom? Ash?”
The scent of burnt meat and plastic wafted over Alison and she stifled a dry heave.

“Don’t come in!” Ash’s voice was tight and urgent. “This is Detective Haines, badge 36952 -”

Alison’s mouth went dry as she heard Ash telling a dispatcher she was at the scene of a homicide. “Oh, god.” Covering her mouth, she took a step back from the door.

“Ali, wait out there.” Ash instructed. “Officers will be here shortly.” The detective appeared in the doorway. “Just tell the truth. You and Tom were working on an article, he didn’t show up for a meeting
, and you found him. You and I are friends, so you called me first.” Ash reached for the scared woman’s hand. “Okay?”

“How?” The blonde’s voice was weak and barely above a whisper, her throat dry.

“Doesn’t matter.” Ash looked over her shoulder.

“Did he - suffer?”
Biting her lower lip, Ash nodded, and tears flooded Alison’s eyes. She knew the details mattered. Even though she had always been under the impression there was no good way to die, some ends were preferable to others.

“Ali.” Ash stepped the rest of the way through the door and took the shaken woman in her arms. “Go back to the car
. I’ll come get you when the officers arrive.” She held the woman tightly, wishing desperately she could spare her this grief.

Pulling back from Ash, Alison wiped her face. “No. I’ll stay here.” The truth was she didn’t want to be alone, even if it meant loitering outside a crime scene.

Ash hugged her again and Alison tried to find comfort in the reassuring embrace. All she could think was how decent Tom had been, and that no one - but particularly him - deserved to die like this. The smell of burnt flesh and hair hit Alison again and she gagged, the realization that Tom had been burned pushing sour bile into her mouth.

Stepping back, Ash rubbed Alison’s back as the blonde bent over, trying to force back a full
-on retch. “Shhh - it’s okay, sweetie. Just breathe.”

Alison wanted Bryce, but knew the woman’s presence would only add to what was sure to be a slew of questions. “I’m going to call Bryce.
I know she can’t be here, but she - I need to talk to her.”

Ash wasn’t sure that was the best idea
. She didn’t know the redhead well enough to discern the possibility of her rushing over in a fit of protectiveness, but Alison seemed desperate to at least talk to the woman; so Ash excused herself.

“Are you okay?” Bryce’s voice was layered with concern
when she answered the phone. “You’re upset.”

Suppressing a sob, Alison cleared her throat before she spoke. “Tom is dead.”

“What’s the address? I’m coming over.”

“No. The police will be here in a minute and I don’t want to have to explain multiple relationships.” Alison
cringed, hating the way that sounded. She quickly corrected herself. “Not that you and I are anything to explain, I mean-”

“Ali, it’s okay. I understand. Ash is there with you then?” Bryce’s voice was low and reassuring.

Nodding, Alison wiped at the tears which continued to flow unchecked. “Yeah. She’s here.”

“Then you’ll be fine.” Bryce
soothed Alison.

“Thank you.” Alison felt the comforting tones of Bryce’s voice run through her and she was finally able to catch her breath. “I’ll call you later.”

Bryce hesitated. She wanted to tell Alison how much she meant to her. How the idea of anything to do with her causing the beautiful woman this much pain made Bryce ache with regret. She had no words and feared anything she might say would only make matters worse or more confusing for Alison. “Take care.”

Ash emerged from the apartment and quickly closed the door behind her. “Everything okay
?” She reached for Alison’s hand.

Alison gently squeezed her friend’s hand. “Not even close, but I’ll manage.”

“They cleaned out the place. No cell phone, laptop, USB - nothing.” Ash rubbed the back of her neck.

“It was Annabel and her gaggle of crazy. Right?” Alison quickly interjected.

“Odds are good.” Pulling her cell phone from her pant pocket, Ash quickly texted Emma. “I’m letting Emma know what’s happened and that you and I will be here for a while once the police arrive.” Putting her phone back in her pocket, Ash took a deep breath. “She may get assigned the case - if we could get that lucky.”

“Would it matter?”

“It could.” Ash glanced up and saw two uniformed officers coming down the walkway. Lowering her voice, she looked closely at Alison. “The less suspicion the better.” Smiling, she stepped around Alison and addressed the officers. “Ghantt - Hernandez, sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”

The taller Hispanic officer nodded. “Good to see you
, Detective Haines. CSI is on their way. What’s happened?”

Alison stood perfectly still, forcing eye contact with the two uniformed officers as Ash explained their version of what had transpired. The exchange became a low hum in Alison’s ears as her thoughts wandered to Bryce and both the incredible and horrific world their relationship had opened up to her.

Shortly after, two homicide detectives arrived. Their names were blurs to Alison, who numbly took their business cards. She managed to not cry while answering their questions regarding her relationship with Tom Hutchinson and what she may have known about his murder.