3. Ivy
IVY
I can feel him watching.
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store seem to flicker, but I know it’s not the wiring. It’s been happening every time I’ve felt him. The texts I’ve read say when the lights flicker, there is someone with a message from the other side. Someone wanting to speak to you.
The goosebumps travel down my arms and back, causing my entire body to shudder. Somewhere deep inside, where intuition lies, tells me I’m not okay. It screams inside of me that my life is going to change forevermore. It’s terrifying.
I swallow thickly, my heart pounds as if it’s trying to escape. I glance around, but there’s no one here. Just a narrow aisle next to another narrow aisle, and somewhere to the right I know there to be a cashier and a register. He’s nowhere to be found at the moment though.
At that thought, I look up and at first, I think it’s the man who’s supposed to be at the register. My body freezes.
His face is etched as if carved from stone. Perfectly chiseled jaw, sharp piercing eyes. He’s tall, his shoulders broad, he’s beautiful in so many ways.
But instinctively I know. The air bows around him. Powerful. Deadly.
With careful steps, I pretend. I pretend I don’t know deep in the marrow of my bones. I pray he can’t see my hands tremble. I move to another aisle with my little wire basket hanging from my hand and he follows, too. Even my breathing is careful.
Every time I look over my shoulder to see if he’s gone, he stares at the items on the shelves. As if he’s not watching me. He hasn’t done anything wrong. If I screamed, people would think I was paranoid.
But I know that the moment I look away, he goes back to watching me.
“I’ve had enough,” I mumble under my breath, feeling a lot less brave than I sound. I take a packet of tea bags off the shelf without looking to see what kind it is and stride up to the register to pay. I ring the bell as quickly as I can, and a woman comes out. Not the man who was here before.
My hands shake as I give my card to the woman behind the counter. If the woman behind the counter notices, she doesn’t say anything. The small hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge as she scans the item and tosses it into a small brown paper bag.
I make a plan while she hands me my receipt. I’ll leave the store and walk as fast as I can until I’m back in my room and lock the door behind me.
Once I’ve done that, I’ll call every person I can think of and tell them what’s been happening. If they think I’m crazy, I don’t care. One of them will help me.
Even if I have gone mad here in this gray city.
I tuck the paper bag with my purchases into the crook of my elbow and head for the doors.
The man from the store comes after me.
I can feel his eyes the back of my neck, burning hot. He can’t do this. He can’t stalk me and stare at me and pretend he has any right to follow me all over the city.
I’m about to turn around and tell him so when I feel it. A chill on the back of my neck and everywhere else. It’s a warning. To run.
I clench my teeth and start walking. Fast, but not too fast. My heart pounds like I’m running. I wish I could run, but if I do, I know he’ll run after me. He’ll catch me so easily and there’s no one here on the empty, narrow cobblestone street.
But there are people up ahead, coming in and out of shops and talking on their phones and looking up at the sky to see if the clouds are a different shade of gray today. As my heart races, they’re almost all a blur. I walk too fast for how many people are on the sidewalk, but I don’t care. My arm brushes against another woman’s and I almost cry with relief. They’re close enough to touch, and that means he can’t do anything to me here. Not with so many people around.
I keep moving through the crowd, my bravery growing with every step. But he’s behind me. He’s right there behind me every time I look.
The chill bears down on me. I can almost feel him breathing on the back of my neck.
I whirl around, ready to scream for help, to tell him to get away from me and stay away from me, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
The strange man is gone. There’s nobody behind me. Nobody at all. The bustling sidewalks and streets are completely empty.
Where did they go? They were all just there.
Before I can scream, a hand comes from behind me and wraps around my throat.
I try to run, twisting away from his hand, but it doesn’t work. I only make it a few steps before his hand is around my throat again, and his other hand is on my shoulder. The world becomes gray, all shades of it blurred.
He crowds me against a wall. Cold bricks press roughly into my back. My bag from the shop falls to the sidewalk. I hear it land with a crumpling sound, but I barely hear or see anything. All I can do is feel. He leans down over me, his body blocks the view of the empty street, and the darkness in his eyes terrifies me.
His hand comes back to my jaw, and I can’t look away. Caught in his stare.
“You will come to me,” he says. His voice is deep and almost seductive. So much different from what I imagined.
“No,” I gasp, although it’s so hard to breathe and even more difficult to stand. What happened to me? Tears prick as I murmur, “What have you done?”
His breath warms my neck and makes me shiver more deeply than the chills that have followed me for months in Edinburgh.
My body falls heavy, as do my eyelids. I attempt to question, to accuse, but everything is weak.
“You aren’t supposed to be here.” After the words have warmed my skin, he presses his lips to the same spot. The kiss is soft but almost familiar. I tip my head against the bricks, sensation lighting me up all down my body.
The next gasp that escapes my lips is almost a moan. Confusion fills me, but it can’t push out the tingling in my skin and the heat between my legs. I should be frozen with fear, but my body wants to arch into this demon’s touch to get more of it. I’m shocked at myself. I’m shocked that this is how my body is reacting when my worst fears are coming true.
It must be a nightmare. None of this is real.
It doesn’t feel real.
“Leave me alone.” I barely manage, my words coming out as if slurred.
His eyes widen slightly, but then they narrow again, his dark gaze searing into mine.
“You will come with me,” he repeats, slowly and clearly, stressing every word. My heart races even faster. “It is too dangerous for you here.”
“No.” I grit my teeth, refusing to let any tears escape though my eyes burn with more.
He looks into my eyes, then takes my wrist in his other hand. He lifts it into the light, turning it at different angles until the scar shows clearly and neither of us can ignore it.
“And what is this?” the demon asks, as if we’re in a debate that he intends to win.
I jerk my wrist out of his grasp and press it tight to my chest, angling myself away from him.
“No.” I back up a few steps. “That’s none of your business, and I’m?—”
“You already belong to me.”
I open my mouth to say no, and my back hits a wall.
The wall shouldn’t be there. Nothing comes from my lips but a gasp, and then I’m falling into the dark.