The Halfling (Aria Fae #1) Page 17

  Leaping amongst the rooftops, I felt my heartbeat picking up in pace, and had I listened to my gut just then, I may have saved myself some trouble.

  As it was, I was still riding high on all of my successes, still feeling invincible in the way unique to all teenagers of any race, and when I saw the familiar scene, despite the warning of my instincts, I didn’t hesitate to intervene.

  Here was where I made my second mistake, and one that no doubt would have landed me in hot water with the Peace Brokers were this a mission they had sent me on.

  I allowed myself to walk into an environment I was wholly unfamiliar with, without taking the time to assess it properly.

  It was something I had seen thrice before, and my pride blinded my ability to see it for what it was, rather than what it appeared to be. The situation differed none from the three I’d encountered before it, and I swooped in with all the confidence I always maintained.

  There was a drug addict who looked vaguely familiar, and I realized it was one of the men who’d tried to attack Sam a few nights ago in the alley near my apartment. He was the shorter and meaner looking of the two, his smell confirming his identity to me.

  I landed in front of him as if appearing out of nowhere. “Let her go,” I said, and slammed my staff into his stomach.

  He released the woman he was holding, letting out a grunt of pain and bending over to clutch at his midsection. When he looked up, though, there was a smile on his face that was wide and ugly.

  He spat at the ground, and the woman he’d been pretending to kidnap brought her hands around to the front of her and wiggled her fingers, showing me that she had not been restrained, as I had assumed. She pulled the handkerchief that had been used as a gag out of her mouth and gave me a grin just as unsettling.

  “He’d said you’d come,” she said.

  For the first time, I took in all of my surroundings carefully, and noticed that I had been led right into a trap. The dark, murky water of the Grant City Bay enclosed me on the east, and large docking warehouses stood in the other three directions. When two black cars pulled into the spaces between the buildings a moment later, blocking my escape, and the man I’d been searching for the past week stepped out, I saw that I was not only trapped, but outnumbered.

  Sam cursed in my ear, but I barely heard her. The man named Dyson was heading my way, a semi-automatic weapon clutched between his large hands.

  The foul word that slipped past my lips was a repeat of Sam’s.

  CHAPTER 42

  “So you’re the one running around causing all the trouble,” Dyson said, stopping only ten feet in front of me, his dark eyes running over me in a way that made my skin crawl. He shooed the woman and the addict away with a flick of his wrist, and they sauntered off into the shadows.

  “And you’re the one stealing women in Grant City and sending them into slavery,” I retorted, disguising my voice. “The one flooding the streets with Black Magic.”

  My grip was tight on my staff, the weapon in his hands having formed a lump in my throat that I was just glad I could speak past.

  “It’s a shame that you know that,” he said. “Because now I haven’t any choice at all in killing you.” His voice was deep and even, the disinterested tone belying his words. He didn’t consider it a shame at all. He was a man who enjoyed killing. I didn’t need to read his aura to see that.

  “Afraid you can’t beat me with your hands?” I said, nodding toward the weapon. “You have to bring an assault rifle to take care of one girl in a mask?”

  This made him smile, but there was no kindness, no humor in it, and it somehow served to make his sharp face more severe, his dark eyes more intense and intimidating.

  “I don’t need this to kill you,” he said. “It was to keep you from suffering, in fact, but if you’d have it another way…”

  He snapped his fingers, and another goon in a black suit stepped out of one of the black cars blocking the alley, and took the gun, standing sentry with it, while Dyson turned back to face me.

  “See?” he said. “I’ll kill you with my own two hands since that’s how you prefer it. You can even keep hold of that little wooden staff of yours. It’s cute.”

  Sam spoke in my ear for the first time since his arrival, and her voice was as tight as a strung string. “I think you should get out of there. I think you should get out of there now. I’m calling the cops.”

  I didn’t respond to this for obvious reasons, but across from me, Dyson’s shiny baldhead tilted, his eyes narrowing and his lips pulling up in a smile. “You’ve got a friend in your ear,” he said. “I knew there was more than one of you.”

  Before I could respond to this, my mind spinning with the fact that Dyson should not have been able to hear Sam at all, he attacked me, moving much faster than I anticipated.

  I managed to duck his first blow, my staff striking out at his leg with enough force that it should have knocked him back, or at the very least, incited some sort of reaction from him. As it was, he didn’t even blink, his leg buckling not in the least.

  Then the back of his hand connected with my face, the impact coming before I had any chance to even realize it was in effect. Pain exploded in my cheek as his knuckles raked across my teeth. I tasted blood in my mouth at the same time as stars appeared behind my eyes.

  Sam screamed in my ear, but I barely heard her, my heart pounding too loudly in my chest.

  I didn’t hit the pavement, at least, but only stumbled to the side, shaking my head to clear my vision and spitting a dribble of blood onto the pavement.

  There was a small, deep chuckle from Dyson. “She bleeds,” he said, moving in again even as he said the words.

  I wasn’t afraid just then, I’d been trained too well by the Peace Brokers to let this rattle me. Swinging my staff around and focusing, I caught him across his jaw with the end of the staff, and the smile left his cocky face, his dark eyes and aura flashing with that reddish-black that marred every hateful, lost soul.

  He mimicked my previous action of spitting some scarlet onto the concrete.

  “I guess you bleed, too,” I said, and swung my staff hard and fast at his head.

  But his movements were impossibly fast, his body inexplicably agile, and had my brain been even as fast as my body, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me so long to deduce that Dyson was not human.

  He caught the staff with a swiftness that dazzled me, ripping the staff from my hands with such superior strength that I was jerked forward several feet before letting go of it. Tossing it to the side, I heard it clatter somewhere behind me as he gripped my throat in a death choke before I could even blink.

  The air was instantly cut off from my lungs, and my body reacted by striking out several times at my captor, but if this had any affect on him at all, it was completely non-evident.

  My face and lungs began to burn, my muscles threatening to panic as the oxygen was stopped from reaching them. I gave up the useless kicking and punching as the world began to dim around the edges, the lights of the city verging on blackout. Instead, my fingers clawed at the hand gripping my throat, my mouth working like a fish.

  Smiling once more, those dark eyes staring into mine, Dyson lifted me off the ground, his relentless hand ever tightening around my neck. My feet dangled, kicking hopelessly at the air.

  Now it was impossible not to feel fear. In fact, I’m ashamed to admit that in that moment fear was all I felt. I was on the verge of suffocation, the doorway of death, and more than anything, I was afraid. I didn’t want to die. There was so much more life to live.

  As my vision began to tunnel, the focal point those dark, terrible eyes, I heard myself rasp. “What… are… you?”

  His eyes lit up gold, answering my question, but I barely had time to acknowledge this answer because I was slipping away, fading into a sea of darkness…

  CHAPTER 43

  I hit the pavement hard, gasping for air, my eyes watering and bulging out of my head, my vision leaking back with
spots of gray that made me dizzy.

  “Get out of there!” Sam’s voice screeched in my ear. “Get out of there now!”

  There was no time to question this, and I realized as I stumbled to my feet, still struggling to breathe, that the chemical agent Matt had put in the buttons of my jacket had been set off.

  As the world swam back to focus, I saw Dyson was blinking, rubbing his face and batting at the air, yelling profanities.

  “Shoot her, damn it!” he growled, his eyes red and dripping with the irritant.

  I was running, albeit slower than usual because my lungs were on fire and my head was spinning in slow circles. Knowing it could mean ill for me, I took the time to scoop up my staff before using the only option of escape.

  The gunfire from the assault rifle ripped through the air at the same time as I leapt off the edge of the dock I had retreated onto.

  Pain ripped through my leg and my midsection at the same time as I hit the water, diving in headfirst. I broke the surface and swam deep, concentrating all my strength on swimming as fast and as far as possible. Bullets rained into the murky water around me, but I could not afford to pay them mind. Soon, I was out of range anyway, having retreated east along the bay.

  It did not take long in the chilly water before I was completely drained, the dark of the night and the threatening darkness of my mind a combination that I knew I would not be able to stave off for long.

  I crawled out of the bay not too far away, but far enough that I knew I was safe (though that was certainly a word I’d hesitate to apply at the moment). Stumbling out of the water, I found that I was shivering, my body wracked with pain and my muscles slow to respond to my commands.

  It took much longer than it should have to determine where I was, my mind stalling like a frozen computer. My shaking fingers reached up to confirm that my communication device had fallen out of my ear in the water, and I resisted the urge to lie down right where I stood, stumbling out to a main street in search of something that would reveal my location.

  Luckily, I saw a local burger joint my mind had recorded for further investigation when funds allowed it, and knew that I was much closer to my apartment than I was to the factory, but in my current condition, I wasn’t sure I would make it to either.

  Somehow, I managed to reach my apartment building. Every step of the way threatened to be my last, each breath and assertion of strength gearing toward a close. I was hurt, and I wasn’t sure how badly just yet, but I was certain of one thing; I was running on fumes.

  The streets of Grant City were quiet at this late hour, and the silence of the place, along with my current condition, lulled me into the shadows before I could open the door and make it inside.

  Instead, the darkness claimed me, and I collapsed to the pavement outside my apartment building, where demons and wrongdoers were surely watching from the shadows.

  ***

  My eyes peeled open slowly, the pain flaring in various spots on my body the first thing to register with my awareness. After that came a flood of memories: the trap, fighting Dyson, jumping into the bay, collapsing on the doorstep of my apartment building.

  I shot up into a seated position when I realized I didn’t know where I was, that I was lying in a bed I didn’t recognize, the agony in my body intensifying, making me wince.

  “Easy,” said a deep, familiar voice.

  I turned my head to see that Thomas Reid was sitting in a chair beside the bed I was lying on, a book open in his hand. He shut it now as he leaned forward, studying me.

  “What… happened?” I said, my voice scratchy and throat raw. “How’d I get here? Where is here?”

  I tried to get up, but various parts of my body screamed, and when Thomas placed a gentle hand on me to insist I remain, I obeyed. “I found you outside,” he said. “Carried you in. That’s all I know.”

  There was a question in these words and in the transfixing hazel of his eyes. “Huh,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. Then, “Oh, crap! Matt and Sam!” I moved to get up again. “I have to go.”

  Thomas stopped me by saying, “Your friends are waiting out in the living room.”

  It seemed to take a second for this to register. My cheeks flushed and I said, “So this is your bed?” before I could stop myself.

  Thomas nodded, no hint of his usual hidden amusement with me touching his aura.

  My face burned hotter still. “Are these… your clothes, too?”

  Another nod.

  “Did you… change me?”

  Sighing, he said, “Your friend, Samantha, did, but I examined your wounds.” His eyes went to the spot on my midsection that was in pain and the other spot on my thigh.

  I pulled my shirt up to examine the injuries, and Thomas turned his head respectfully. I wasn’t particularly surprised to see a deep purple and yellow bruise over the right side of my ribs and abdomen. Pulling up my pant leg revealed a similar bruise on my upper right thigh. I ran a tongue out over my bottom lip and tasted blood, knowing that Dyson had busted it open when he’d backhanded me.

  Much more than the physical pain, however, was the wound to my pride, my confidence. I hated the fear that spiraled in my stomach when I thought of Dyson and his dark eyes. I hated that I’d not only lost to him, but that I was afraid to go up against him again, that what had happened had me wanting to turn tail and run.

  A lump formed in my throat as I saw that Thomas was staring at me. “Those were much worse a couple hours ago,” he said. “I wanted to take you to the hospital, but your two friends out there insisted that wasn’t necessary.” His hazel gaze went to the fading marks I knew must be on my neck from where Dyson had strangled me. “I guess they were right. I would’ve sworn you’d broken several ribs.”

  I surveyed my injuries, trying to find something to say. “Well… would you look at that?” was what I came up with.

  “I am,” Thomas replied, making my cheeks heat.

  Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I placed my feet on the ground and went to make an exit, but Thomas said, “What happened, Aria?”

  I only looked at him, and was filled with relief when Sam poked her head into the room, saving me from having to answer. Upon seeing me, her blue eyes filled with tears, and she came rushing over to the bed, nearly tackling me in a hug.

  “Oh, thank God!” she said.

  I gritted my teeth at her embrace. “Still hurting just a little, Sam,” I winced. I had indeed broken ribs, and they were still mending.

  She released me quickly, stepping back and looking at me as though she thought she’d never see me again. “Aria… I’m so sorry… I was so worried…”

  Matt entered the small room a second later, the four of us three too many in the tight space. Thomas’ bedroom was as bare as a bedroom could be, everything neat and tidy, revealing of his military background, but it was only marginally bigger than the full-sized bed it contained.

  Matt scooped me up into an embrace nearly as tight as Sam’s, and I had to point out to him as well that I needed a bit of gentle handling. “I was the one who said no hospital,” he admitted. “Was it the right thing?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Matt. You did good. You both did.”

  “Would you two excuse us?” Thomas said, his deep, even voice cutting into the reunion.

  Both Matt and Sam looked to me, and I gave a nod, telling them it was okay to go. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I told them. “I’m fine, really.”

  Thomas was still in his chair, and I took a seat across from him on the bed.

  “What did they tell you?” I asked.

  “They didn’t tell me anything. They wouldn’t. They just arrived here a few minutes after I found you, demanding that I not take you to the hospital.”

  I nodded, silently thanking my friends for this. “I don’t have insurance,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, but that didn’t make it sound any less lame.

  Thomas only looked at me, rubbing some of the dark stubble on his cheeks and
sitting back in his chair.

  “I fell into the bay,” I added. “Got caught in a current. They must’ve followed me here.” When still he didn’t speak, I stood from the bed. His head tilted back to look up at me. “Look, thanks for your help. I really appreciate it, but I’m fine now. I’ll just take my friends and go.”

  When I reached the door of the bedroom, he stopped me in my tracks by saying, “Don’t forget to pick up your suit and your mask on the way out.”

  I felt my shoulders tighten and turned back toward him. With more than reluctance, I reclaimed the seat across from him on the bed. “Say what’s on your mind, Thomas.”

  “You’re the one they’ve been talking about in the news, the girl in the mask running around saving people in Grant City.”

  This was not a question, and I didn’t give an answer.

  When some awkward silence passed, and I could stand it no more, I said, “That’s ridiculous.”

  With trained precision and swiftness, Thomas struck out at me with his fist. My own training kicked in and I blocked the blow, anger rising in my gut.

  “What the hell?” I said.

  “Nothing about you is what it seems. What are you, Aria?”

  Standing, I narrowed my eyes and met his gaze, forcing as much of my will onto him as I could. “I’m nothing,” I said, my voice low and more revealing than I would have preferred. “I’m nobody.”

  With that, I stalked out of the room, grabbing my still-soaked suit and mask off the dresser beside the bed and making sure my staff was tucked inside the jacket. It was, so without sparing a glance at Thomas Reid, I left the room with those words hanging in the air between us.

  I felt his hazel eyes follow me every step of the way.

  CHAPTER 44

  I felt no better once Sam, Matt, and I were closed behind the door of my own apartment. If anything, my mood was all the worse, and I hopped in the shower and donned new clothes before coming out to face them.