Obsidian Souls (Soul Series) (4 page)

             
I looked at him and dialed the police again. I could hear his sigh of annoyance. They answered on the first ring so they couldn’t be that busy.

             
“Hello? I just called, and I really need someone to come help me. I was just attacked, and I need someone to come here.”

             
“Lady, what don’t you understand? We can’t get involved,” the dispatcher said.

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“What I mean is, no one’s coming! You can come file a report like I said last time, but we don’t get involved with them.”

             
“Who’s them? You don’t even know who attacked me!”

             
“Look lady, if something happened there, it was with them. We don’t get involved with them.” I heard the agitation in her voice and realized that not only were they not coming, but also she was actually annoyed that I had called again.

             
“Can you at least tell me who they are?” I asked as I looked squarely at Caden, who was now reclining against the brick wall of the bar. He was looking bored and didn’t even blink at the question I had just asked the dispatcher. The only vibe he was putting out was smug irritation. It was clear, he knew exactly what the outcome was going to be. That he had to suffer through this ridiculous turn of events, until I, the slow-witted damsel in distress, finally realized her situation completely sucked, and that she had no other options.

             
“You got yourself involved with them, you figure it out,” The dispatcher replied and dead silence followed. I hung up the phone with a shaking hand.

             
I looked back at him, weighed my options, and realized he didn’t seem to really care if I came or not. He wasn’t trying to force me or crowd me, and I had a scary feeling that perhaps he was telling the truth about Carl. The slightly frightening but very sexy man leaning against the wall might be the only thing standing between Carl and myself.

             
As I stood, I watched him walk back to the open door and pause. I could go in, or I could go home, but something had changed, and no matter what I chose, it couldn’t be undone. It had been set in motion the moment I had come here. That short moment after I had first seen Caden, my gut feeling had been to get up, and run hard and fast, and to never ever come back to this place again. It had been correct. If I had run, maybe this horrible foreboding wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be in a dirty alleyway with the only haven appearing to be the lion’s den itself.

             
I’ve messed up in life before. Almost every time, I’d had that strong gut feeling that I was on the wrong path, but I didn’t listen to it. Later, I would lecture myself about how I needed to stop ignoring it, but yet again, here I was. This time, I was stuck in between some psycho crazy man apparently ready to stalk me and another alluring but equally dangerous man.

             
“You said THEY would come for me. Don’t you mean him?”

             
“He’s not normally alone, and he’s not very patient.”

             
Correction, I now had crazy MEN who were planning to stalk me.

             
“It will take him some time to find me, won’t it? I’m not sure he even has my last name.”

             
“Alexandria Verdane, known to most as Lex, age twenty-five, unit #thirty-eight, fifteen Blossom Road. You’ve worked at Bio Lab for the last seven months as an assistant botanist. You just applied for an internal promotion.”

             
That got me to my feet quickly, as I backed further away from him.

“How do you know all that? And why?” I went from quasi acceptance to the verge of hysteria. I was ready to run if he made the slightest movement in my direction, but he didn’t, not even an inch. He was relaxed as ever, still leaning against the brick wall of the bar.

             
“I knew who you were five minutes after you walked into my bar.” His posture remained relaxed but his eyes were hard as they met my own. His stare made me uneasy. “And if I know it, they will too. The how and why doesn’t matter. You don’t strike me as a stupid person. Trust your instincts.”

             
If I had trusted my instincts, none of this would be happening. And the lion’s den it would be.

Chapter Six

             
The light’s had been dimmed down so low that all that was left were shadows upon shadows, and all I could hear was my feet hitting the marbled floor. I looked at the rounded booths in the corner wondering how comfortable they would be to sleep on. I just wanted somewhere to curl up and fall apart, but I wouldn’t, at least not until I had a moment alone.

             
“What’s your name?” I asked.

             
“Caden.”

             
“I meant your full name. I figure if you know everything about me I should at least know your full name.”

             
“It’s Acair. And I don’t know everything, not yet anyway.”

That wasn’t very comforting, and my brain searched again for an alternative solution to staying here. I couldn’t call Amanda, she might be near them, and who knew what they would ask Mark. Maybe Gilly? On the other hand, I could go stay with my brother out of town.

             
“I wouldn’t involve anyone in this,” he broke through my concentration with his warning. He said it as if he had been reading my mind. “It won’t end well for them. These men don’t value life.”

             
“Who says I was going to?” I lied. I followed him deeper into the bar, leading me to who knows where.

             
“Uh huh.”

             
I’ve always hated the uh huh, especially when they were right. It got under my skin. “Are you going to tell me what is going on? Who you are? Who Carl is?”

             
He didn’t answer. He just kept walking, and I kept following him, mostly because I was just too scared to do anything else. Scared to leave, scared to stay. When he started walking into the back room, off the kitchen area, and started down a flight of stairs I froze. It felt like I was at a cross roads and the street signs read “Bad,” and “Worse.” Either way, I couldn’t force my legs to move another step. I just stood there rooted to my spot firmer than the old oak at my favorite park.

             
He quickly sensed me not behind him, and his large frame stopped. He turned, and with a prolonged sigh said, “Look, who we are is a long story that you’re not ready to know. And I’m not going to say it’s going to be okay. It might not be. What I can say is that for now, you’ll be safe here.”

             
We stood about four feet apart and stared at each other with the tension thick between us. We both waited to see what I would do, and I had about as much idea as he did.

             
“Why do you want me here?” I wasn’t sure if I meant it as an accusation or a question, but I needed to know before I went down into what looked like a basement with him. Something about basements made everything creepy. Too many horror movies I’m sure, but everyone gets killed in the basement to my knowledge.

             
“I don’t like them, and they want you. So it’s in my interest to keep you out of their hands.”

             
It was a simple, matter of fact answer, which explained nothing and everything, and in some crazy way made me feel better about his motives. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that. I’ve never had to think tactically before so I wasn’t sure if this situation pertained, but it was the only quasi advice I could think of.

             
“You keep saying they? Who are they?”

             
“Carl is not alone. If he is interested, they are all going to be interested.”

             
That also answered nothing for me, but I followed him into the basement anyway. That old oak tree at the park I loved was taken out by a hurricane last year. Maybe being rooted to one spot is overrated.

             
I was about to keep questioning him just as I noticed, in between shelves of jarred olives and a hamper of bar towels, there was a set of gleaming stainless steel elevator doors. It looked way too modern for the prewar building and completely out of place. He put his finger to a small green square on the wall next to the doors, and they silently glided open.

             
“After you,” he stepped to the side and motioned me in.

             
“I think I’ll just crash on a booth upstairs,” I said as I took a step back.

             
He looked at me and shook his head no. “It’s not as safe upstairs.”

He seemed to be losing patience with the reassuring role quickly, not that he had been much better in the alleyway. Only the fact that he truly didn’t seem to want me here, made me feel safe going with him. I didn’t really feel like he would put up much of a fight if I tried to leave. He might even be glad.

             
“I’m going home tomorrow,” I said this in a matter of fact way, with a do not try to keep me here attitude, as I walked past him into the elevator. It was a bit ridiculous, and totally unbelievable considering he’d just saved me less than an hour ago, but it was all I had to hold my tattered pride together.

             
I watched the doors close, and I felt my stomach flip-flop as we quickly plummeted. The elevator buttons had symbols instead of numbers, so I couldn’t gauge how far under we were going, but we stopped fairly quick.

             
The doors opened, and I followed him into an apartment that could have been in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Well, minus the lack of windows that is. The furniture in the main living area was supple looking deep chocolate brown leather. The floors were a gleaming hardwood with beautiful wool area rugs. It was a huge space with high ceilings that you wouldn’t have expected. The dining set looked like carved mahogany and an open kitchen with matching mahogany cabinets. Everything was warm and inviting, the exact opposite of what he gave off.

             
He moved gracefully for a man of his size, as he headed to the wet bar set in the wall of the living room. He poured an inch of golden liquid into a beautiful cut crystal glass and held it out to me.

             
“No, thanks,” I replied and watched him toss it back in one swig.

             
“I’m guessing you’re pretty tired. I’ll just show you to the spare room.”

             
In other words, I don’t want to spend any more time with you. I got the hint, not that I cared. I was exhausted, it had to be at least three a.m. by now, and I wasn’t in the mood for fake pleasantries anymore than he was.

             
The room he showed me to was much better than the booth I had been expecting. Same hardwood floors and a large high bed was made up with a white down comforter and lots of white fluffy pillows that looked more than inviting right now. There was a simple but elegant wood dresser and nightstand.

             
“There’s a private bathroom through that door, and it has whatever you might need in the medicine cabinet. I’ll get you a t-shirt to sleep in. Do you want shorts or sweatpants?”

             
“Whatever you’ve got is fine. Thanks.”

             
“I don’t have anything small though, just my stuff.”

             
I was kicking off my heels as he was talking. It felt like such sweet relief to have them off. My feet felt swollen to twice their natural size, and I wasn’t sure I would even be able to get them back on. What a bad night to break in new heels.

             
“You’re shorter than I realized. How tall are you? Are you even over five feet?”

             
“Five foot, one inch.” He didn’t have to have such an odd look on his face. Lots of women are short. He was looking at me like I had a deformity.

             
“You’re really quite short.” He was picking up and examining one of my discarded shoes as he said this. The pants I had on covered a good portion of the heel.  I guess he had not realized how much of me had been artificial height.

             
The way he was staring at me now might have been slightly insulting, but I just didn’t even care. I just wanted him gone. I was beyond the point of exhaustion and my emotions were raw.  I’d stay for the night and decide what to do and where to go in the morning, but right now I just wanted, no needed, to be alone.

             
“I’m really beat. Would you mind getting me those clothes?” Okay, that might have been bordering on rude, but his manners weren’t exactly up to par either. If he thought a little poorly of me, it didn’t matter. After tomorrow, I had no plan on seeing him ever again.