Chapter 6 #2
Dragging my thoughts away from that horrifying morning, I added a tip to the bill and finished my drink before dragging myself out of the chair to head out of the restaurant.
Young Palace was several blocks from the house, but parking was a nightmare in this part of the city, so I rarely drove.
The weather was so nice tonight I chose to walk, though I had stayed too long at dinner.
Darkness had fallen as I’d pigged out on potstickers.
Edmund’s warning pinged at the back of my mind, but I thought the odds of anything happening were low. Not yet seven p.m., it was early enough for the conference to still be in session. Beckett shouldn’t be a worry.
Pushing his presence out of my mind, I started down one of the quiet alleys.
This part of town was relatively safe. Many humans carried guns, while most supernaturals didn’t need one to feel secure.
Thieves and worse had long learned this was not a target rich environment and moved on to different areas.
Even so, I shifted my purse into a crossbody position and picked up my pace, keeping my eyes open for anything odd.
Old streetlamps outside the alley cast a watery golden glow over the concrete, making the small puddles of water from our last much-needed rain shimmer like glitter.
I deftly dodged those and turned out of the alley onto another street with much better lighting.
But as I reached the end of that one, I noticed an orange and white barrier and a police cruiser blocking the road.
A large crowd was crammed into the small area, everyone intent on the small stage where three men messed with their instruments.
No music yet, but the crowd had a humming anticipation about it.
Grimacing, I stopped at the blockade and looked around. The street concert took up at least three blocks, but if I went to the right, I thought I could bypass the crowds without going too far out of the way.
I made a mental note to get better about checking the neighborhood social media page, but if I saw one more passive aggressive complaint from some old biddy about street noise when the local kids were out using the basketball hoop, I might scream.
We could all use a little more grass touching in our lives, as far as I was concerned.
I decided to turn right and kept walking. The first block was fine. I passed several smiling and laughing people, some a little deep in their cups, but when I made the first left, a silence fell over the street, the crowd sounds dying to a whisper.
I quickened my steps, holding my purse close. This street was long with no cross streets for at least two blocks. I’d just passed a tall building when I heard a scraping sound, possibly a shoe sliding over gravel. Every muscle in my body tightened.
If I took off running, I’d alert whoever it was behind me that I was onto them.
Or it could be nothing, and I’d look like a scared fool.
I stopped and spun around. No one was there.
A soft exhale escaped me, then a laugh. Edmund had made me paranoid. Shaking my head, I turned back around and kept walking, this time at a more normal pace.
For the first minute, everything seemed fine. The next time the sound came, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I stopped again and turned to see a man with pale hair at least a block back.
“Hiya, pretty Alex,” Beckett said. I couldn’t make out his features that far away, but I’d never forget that voice or that nickname. In an instant, he was upon me, clawed hands gripping my jaw. “Your heartbeat sounds like a drum. Are you afraid of me?”
His grip was like iron. Struggling was useless. I had to try something else.
“Any woman would be a fool not to be afraid of a strange man approaching a lone woman in an alley.”
Beckett’s lips quirked to one side. “You think I mean you harm?”
“I can’t imagine you’re here to deliver flowers.”
A soft laugh. One of his claws pressed into my cheek, tearing through the skin. I hissed in pain and tried to extricate myself, but Beckett was immovable. Blood poured from the wound.
Beckett inhaled, his eyes taking on a strange green glow. I whimpered with fear. He touched his tongue with his claw, opening a small wound, then leaned forward and licked my cheek with the flat of his tongue. Magic sizzled against my skin, numbing the cut.
“You taste like the earth and something else I can’t identify. Something delicious, pretty Alex.”
When in doubt, line ‘em up and rack ‘em. I went completely still and waited for him to relax a hair before bringing my knee up and smashing it into his balls.
Beckett’s eyes went wide. A rasping wheeze slipped from his lips before he went down like a stone.
I turned and hauled ass, feet sliding on damp gravel. I stumbled, my knee slamming into the ground and my hands hitting the concrete, sharp rocks slicing through my skin. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I scrambled upright and ran as fast as I could.
My mother used to say fear was a wonderful motivator. I never really understood what she meant until this moment. Everything in the alley became crystal clear. The rocks, the gravel, the small puddles of water I avoided to keep from slipping again.
My mind was a tangle of thoughts. I should have worn better shoes. Why was my purse so heavy? Would Beckett try to turn me or worse?
Why was he so obsessed with me?
Why wasn’t he still in session?
And then, the final thought came as I skidded around a corner—he could catch up with me if he wanted to, so was he just playing with me, or did he have something worse in mind?
A sob tore from my throat as my feet slid, my arms pinwheeling to keep myself upright as I rounded the corner.
And straight into two massive men embroiled in a physical fight.