Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(51)



Another woman might not like his instructions—the magazines her captors had provided her with and the movies she’d gotten to see made it seem like she was supposed to be completely independent. But she liked Hayden telling her what to do. At least for right now.

“Chelsea, in any of those visions, did you see the truth of us?”

“The truth of us?” She didn’t know what he meant.

“That you’re my mate. You know what that means?” The stillness she’d seen earlier returned when he asked her that question.

Happiness surged up her spine. Those times she’d been his mate? The best lives she’d ever imagined living. “I do.”

He smiled, a full-on goofy grin. Hayden only looked thirty years old, except in his eyes. In them she could see all the years he had lived. But grinning like that? It took ten years of sadness away from his gaze.

“Good. Then get upstairs, honey. I’ll be there later.”

His words spoke of promises. He didn’t know her yet, but maybe that wouldn’t matter. They’d figure it out. He’d just beat the True Believers. They’d figure the rest of it out.

Despite the small lingering headache, her steps to his room were light and giddy. She found an old T-shirt she vaguely recognized as one she’d seen him in. It still smelled like his scent—maybe she was part wolf?—and she changed into it. Cuddling into his pillow, she closed her eyes. Everything was going to be all right.

Sometime later a sound woke her up. A key being inserted into a door. Did the doctors need her now? It didn’t feel like morning. How long had she slept? She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Looking around the room and seeing early morning light coming through the shades, Chelsea realized one thing. She had no f*cking idea where she was.

With shaking hands, she yanked the covers up to her chin. Oh god. Where am I? This wasn’t a dream. Or at least she didn’t think it was. How would she know?

Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed for anything she could use as a weapon. Her shoe was the only thing readily available, as it sat right next to the bed. Her sneakers wouldn’t provide much defense , but maybe she could chuck it.

“Who’s there?” she called out as the door swung open.

The handsomest man she’d ever seen outside of television stepped into the room. All good looks aside, he still might prove to be some sort of psychopath. She’d met enough of those during the year she’d lived on the street.

“Its just me, Chelsea. I told you I had a key. What’s the matter? You smell terrified. Did you have a bad dream?”

He walked toward the bed, all long, muscled limbs that complemented his high cheekbones and closely shaven brown hair. He had scars on his knuckles. How many times did a person have to be in a fistfight to get that scarred?

“Who are you?” She raised her shoe, knowing it was ridiculous. “Where am I, and how did I get here?”

He stopped moving. “What?”

“You heard me.” She gestured with the shoe again. “Answer me.”

“Chelsea, are you saying you don’t know me?” He put his hands on his hips.

“We don’t know each other. That I’m sure of, damn it. I have no memory of getting here and no clue as to who you are. So you’d better start talking. Or I’ll…” She closed her mouth. There really wasn’t anything else to say.

“You’ll hit me with that shoe.” He nodded. “You’ve forgotten. The vision faded, and now you can’t remember. You said that would happen. I was busy focused on other things. I didn’t pay attention to the idea that you might forget.”

She sucked in her breath. “Are you telling me I know you from a vision? From one of my episodes?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. This was very bad news. She’d had a vision, and it had brought her to this person, this place. Disaster loomed on the horizon. She just knew it. Even if the man across the room could stop traffic with the intensity in which he stared at her.

Her mouth went dry. “Can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Truthfully? I’m not exactly sure I can. This has gotten complicated. You were aware of things before that I’ll now have to explain. That’s going to be hard.” He shook his head. “But for tonight, you’re safe. Sleep here. It’s your room now. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. You’re safe.”

She didn’t feel safe. But, for now, his reassurances would have to do. Running back to the doctors would be ridiculous. They’d gotten mean. The True Believers wanted her dead. She’d have to stay here until she could figure it out.

With the man who’s name she didn’t know watching her.





Chapter Three


Hayden stared at the breakfast he’d made as he set it on the tray to bring up to Chelsea. He had no idea what she ate and didn’t eat, so he’d made everything he could think of. Bacon, eggs, cereal, biscuits, and pastry he’d bought from the gourmet bakery down the street the second they’d opened. He hadn’t been sleeping anyway. The couch in the den of the living area wasn’t very comfortable. He climbed the stairs.

Napa had no shortage of extraordinary food. He’d be glad to get her whatever she wanted. But first he had to introduce himself and figure out how to explain all of this to his mate, who now had no idea who he was.

Carrie Ann Ryan & Ma's Books