Into the Darkness (Darkness #1)(14)

“Can we keep her?” Charles persisted.

“He’s hurt.” I pointed at the Boss.

It didn’t shake Charles’s single-minded focus.

“How bad?” said the third addition, speaking in a harmonious, mid-range voice that probably lent extremely well to singing.

“It’s nothing. Take her to her car and see her home. Do not touch her.” The Boss’s eyes, brimming with the assurance of authority, gripped Charles for a moment, making sure his command was understood. Then he turned to me and said, “Let him get you home safely.”

Charles said, “I did last time, didn’t I? I can be trusted with your pets.” Charles almost sounded sulky. He suddenly seemed a lot younger than he looked.

The Boss nodded once, swept a glance past me, and turned away, crimson oozing down the black leather covering his back. The Singer followed, not bothering with a glance in my direction. Charles hovered.

“I would send you away, but then I’d probably get mugged and killed,” I said, stepping out of the alley, my left foot sloshing within my shoe. Like Jared the day before, my brain was on vacation.

“Yesterday you smelled so great. Today you smell like dead rat. What gives?” Charles stepped beside me, taking the street-side of the sidewalk as we ambled back toward my car.

“Don’t talk to me. You tried to rape me. And then Jared…” I shivered.

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault! I’ve only met a few humans. Usually they’re all gung-ho. How was I supposed to know you didn’t want me? And that kid with you was all into it. Didn’t he feel all awesome and manly after? I helped the guy. He needed a boost.”

I scoffed, because yes, Jared had. But that was beside the point. It was morally wrong and I said as much.

“What’s so wrong? I don’t get it. I mean, with you—sure, okay. But you’re a freak—that’s not my fault. I’m hot; I don’t usually need to try to get the females.”

I scoffed at him. “Really? Can you be any more of an egotistical jackass?”

“Sure, if you want. I thought you weren’t into that sorta thing, though.”

I gave up. The man was dense. Or else really young despite his appearance. There was no other explanation.

“What are you guys?” I sidetracked. “What were those things? Why did the one make a blue…thing? Why do your swords glow? Am I going crazy? What’s happening to me?”

Charles whistled as I wound down to a stop. He clasped his hands behind his back in a thinking pose. It was probably a fruitless effort. “The first three would take too long to explain, and we’d probably just wipe the memories from your head anyway, making any explanation wasted time. And if I have extra time, I like to spew batter, not chatter.”

“Gross,” I muttered, spotting my car up ahead.

“As for the other questions—well, you aren’t going crazy, but possibly have been for some time. And nothing, yet, but if you’d care to remove your clothes, I will happen to you at least twice, quick or slow, hard or soft—entirely up to you.”

I ignored him. Suddenly I was bone weary. My limbs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each.

“Firebird, huh? Old school. My kinda girl.”

I sighed hugely. “It goes fast. Look, thanks for the—what are you doing?”

Charles stopped halfway to stuffing himself into my passenger seat. One eyebrow quirked as his lips tugged down at the corners. “Sitting? What do you mean? Is that a weird, human trick-question? I’m confused.”

“Why are you getting in my car? Get out.”

His mouth fell into a full frown. “The Boss gave a command—how are you resisting? You’re human.”

“Yeah, so you people—or whatever—keep reminding me. Look, I don’t need an escort. I’ve got plenty of gas, my…don’t you sit all the way down or…don’t you shut that…damn it!”

I fell into the seat with my finger already out. “Get out. Seriously.”

“This will go a lot faster if you just drive. You’re too small to make me do anything I don’t want to do. And just small enough to make me do anything you say as long as you—“

“Take off my clothes, I know.” I sighed and started the car. It would almost be easier just to give in.

I rode to my apartment in sulky silence, which didn’t prevent Charles from gabbing merrily about a whole lot of absolutely nothing. He sounded like a boy barely on the man side of puberty. If I didn’t need my hands to steer, I would have had a finger stuffed as far in my ears as possible.

I parked in the space designated for my apartment, waited for the monstrous man to unfold from the confines of my car, and beeped the alarm on. I turned toward home, so tired I could barely stand, needing sugar to cure the adrenaline crash and possible shock I was enduring.

“Wait, one thing.”

I turned back. “What now?”

He surprised me with his proximity. Before I could blink, his hand was on my head.

I awoke with a groggy head sometime in the mid-morning. I lay on top of the covers in my bed, wearing a black hoodie and dirty, spotted jeans. My left shoe was covered in a vile smelling brown sludge, as was my comforter under my foot.

I labored to sit up, moving a hand up to my fuzzy head. I felt like I’d been drinking.