Whisper to a Scream (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #6.5)

Whisper to a Scream (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #6.5)
Trina M. Lee


Chapter One

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, and I don’t know who I am. My name, identity and reason for being is stripped away, leaving me hollow and confused. Then, it all comes rushing back, hitting me with the startling truth.

Everything you thought you knew changes in a heartbeat when the tough choices come. You must adapt or crumble, accept or deny. You must embrace the change or succumb to the tragically sweet pain.

Reality’s bite is a vicious thing. The wound still runs deep.

I ask myself if I would make the same choices again. Selfishly and desperately, I know I would. Having those precious moments, knowing that kind of wholeness even for just a day would still have been worth it. Nonetheless, I hate myself for feeling this way.

A case of mistaken identity can have so many outcomes. This one altered my very soul, my reason for being. It led me to question everything I thought I knew. A man will risk himself for many things: money, power, fame, and the greatest of these, the most beautiful and the most deadly, love.

It rains now as I write this. Staring out into the night, I recall a time and place that circumstance has stolen away. I remember the soft caress of lips, the delicate scent of flowers in freshly shampooed hair and the sound of laughter, an enchanting sound created for my ears alone.

* * * *

Our meeting was unexpected, a chance encounter. As a guardian angel, I was waiting for the arrival of my charge, but Christina stepped into the ballroom instead. Only she saw me sitting there alone.

Long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. Deep brown eyes sparkled with intrigue as she glanced about the room. She moved with natural grace, heading straight for my table.

“Mr. Duchane?” She asked, continuing before I could correct her. “I’m Christina, your date for this evening.”

“Excuse me?” I accepted her outstretched hand, marveling at the softness of her skin. “I’m afraid you have the wrong man. Such a shame really. I don’t have a date.”

“My mistake,” she said with a smile. “I was told to look for a man in a grey suit. Since everyone else here is in black, I expected it to be easy. Sorry.”

Shadows lurked in her eyes. Her smile was forced. I’d witnessed enough human pain in my time. She wore it like perfume.

“Don’t be sorry,” I heard myself say. “This is the best part of my night so far.”

“That’s sweet. Have a nice evening.” This time the smile was real. It was enchanting, gifting me with the briefest glimpse into her soul.

I watched her go, gliding through the formally dressed crowd like a slow-falling star in a dark sky. The long silver skirt of her dress flowed around her legs with each step. I couldn’t take my eyes from her.

It didn’t take her long to find her mystery date. He sat across the room drinking champagne. He couldn’t be bothered to take her hand much less to pull out her chair. I questioned the circumstances of their date.

She took a seat across from him and immediately caught me staring. I averted my gaze and reminded myself that I was there to do a job. Yet, I snuck several covert glances her way.

The crowd thickened as people poured in. A band played in the corner, creating and maintaining the appropriate mood for a charity dinner and auction. Businessmen and women attempted to smooth talk one another, each seeking to create or uphold their reputation. I had little interest in the event; I was there for only one reason.

That reason swept into the room with her blonde hair bound atop her head and uncertainty quirking her lips into a comical frown. Alexa looked uncomfortable. She grabbed quickly at a passing tray laden with champagne flutes.

I didn’t look at her any longer. Capturing her attention was not my intent. My purpose was to ensure she didn’t leave before midnight.

Alexa was a werewolf, a creature of the night that most would assume to be fictitious, but she was so much more than that, a powerful being, created to battle evil. She just didn’t know that part yet. A slayer of problem paranormals, she was likely here hunting for someone on her hit list. I merely protected her from demonic forces. Whatever the worst monsters of the city were up to that night, I was to ensure she stayed away from it until she was ready for the fight.

I made the rounds, browsing auction items and engaging in senseless small talk. It wasn’t my world, but playing the part was easy enough.

An abstract art piece crafted across the surface of a mirror caught my eye. In between swirls of color, I glimpsed a flash of my dark blond hair and a flicker of my green eyes. My human appearance carefully concealed my angelic nature.

Scrawling a phony signature on the silent auction sheet, I placed a modest bid. Time was crawling. I longed for midnight when I could flee this stuffy gathering.

“I saw you looking at me,” a soft voice whispered in my ear.

Christina smiled up at me, peering from beneath lowered lashes. Though she was coy and sensual, I saw through the façade. It was too perfect, too practiced, as if she’d given the same look to countless men in her time.

My smile was authentic enough, but I was suddenly wary of this tragic beauty. Glancing around, I was unable to locate her companion. Odd.

“Have you lost your date? I can’t imagine why he’d be willing to let you out of his sight for a moment.” I searched her, seeking the truth beneath her carefully constructed appearance.