Deceived (Burned Book 2) Page 14

  Our group of three grew rapidly. Tanya didn't have a shy bone in her body and invited the majority of the courthouse—or it seemed like it anyway. Tanya mostly danced with Jimmy, the new clerk from the courthouse. Fresh-faced and wide-eyed, he wore a permanent dazed expression. Clerk-boy hadn't been out with Hurricane Tanya before; he was in for an exciting night. Although, he might not feel that way in the morning.

  The drinks kept coming. Shot after shot was downed to the cheers of bystanders. Despite my initial reluctance, I enjoyed myself, even with Sarah and her constant bitching. She managed to find fault with everything, from the fact that we were at a club that wasn't a House affiliate, to the small selection of premium liquors. Tanya and I created a drinking game out of it; we downed a shot with each complaint. Not the wisest choice.

  Sarah finally begged off at midnight, claiming an early yoga class. I pretended not see her expectant glare as she left. It would have been smart to leave with her, but for the first time in weeks I was having a good time. I wasn't drowning in memories. I was living. And I wanted to squeeze every last moment out of it. I wasn't worried about the House, complicated preternatural politics, or the existence of creatures that shouldn't be alive according to modern science.

  I was human. I was alive.

  My alcohol addled brain had forgotten that monsters came in human form too.

  ***

  The first thing I felt was pain. The throbbing, rhythmic beat in my head was intense. My dry tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, the taste of stale cherries and pennies coating my mouth. Awareness crept in, and with it a haze of confusion. Disjointed images of the night before flashed on my eyelids.

  I wrenched an eye open in increments. Harsh rays of light peeked through the brown wooden slats on the windows and caused the awful pain in my head to magnify. The cotton comforter I was laying under was an unfamiliar green. A comforter meant I was on a bed… one that wasn't mine. My eyes widened, ricocheting the pain to new heights.

  Where the hell was I?

  The world tilted. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of nausea, searching for any clue, any memory that would explain why I was in someone else's bedroom.

  Nothing.

  The last solid memory was the exuberant cheer and new round of shots that accompanied Sarah's grumbled departure. It seemed I wasn't the only one that was glad to see that bitch leave.

  Movement behind me. My heart froze before restarting at a dangerous dash. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I bared down, doubling my efforts to keep everything from last night in my churning stomach.

  I didn't want to know who was with me in the bed. But I had to know.

  Horror movie slow, compounded by the mining operation still going on in my brain, I turned. He was fully dressed, stretched out on top of the covers I was sprawled underneath. The shape was male. I swallowed, flashbacks from my one and only drunken frat-party-gone-wrong featured prominently in my mind.

  What had I done?

  The profile was familiar, the cap of dark hair solidified the identity. His typical thoughtful focus was replaced with the slack relaxation of sleep. Zak.

  I gasped and his eyes blinked open. Confused blue orbs stared back.

  Oh, God.

  The nausea won. I wrenched off the covers. Refusing to embarrass myself further, I was determined to at least make it to his bathroom. I tripped, fumbling with no resemblance of my normal grace, down the hallway. Falling to my knees I embraced the porcelain throne, emptying my stomach of its contents.

  Familiar hands gathered my hair off my face. A cool washcloth brushed against the back of my neck. Dizzy and empty, I lay on the soothing cold tile of the bathroom floor and welcomed the blackness that engulfed me.

  "Wake up, Arabella." Zak's voice dragged me from the benign dark, where I was happy and there was no pain. Daniel wasn't dead. I didn't have the mother of all headaches. I hadn't just made a colossal mistake, one that might cost another friend his life.

  "If you don't stay awake this time, I'm going to have to call the paramedics." The threat got my attention. He wasn't kidding.

  The last thing I wanted was a trip to the hospital.

  I forced my eyes open. They must have weighed twenty pounds each. The light seared into my brain.

  "Light." It hurt to talk. My throat was dry and sore.

  The light disappeared in a rush of fabric. The stabbing in my brain reached a more manageable level of wretchedness.

  "Ari, come on. Stay awake," he pleaded.

  A warmth eased its way through me, a balm to the raw painful ache inside me. I loved it when he shortened my name. It wasn't a big deal when anyone else did it, but for some reason, my nickname from his lips caused my heart to flip.

  I didn't want him to worry about me.

  I doubled my efforts and kept my leaded eyelids open. The lines in his face spoke of his concern. I struggled to keep him in focus, concentrating on the thick shape of his dark eyebrows.

  How much did I drink last night?

  "That's better. I was getting really worried."

  "How—?" my voice croaked, the desert in my mouth making it impossible to talk. The cool smoothness of glass met my lips. Water. Taking only a few tentative sips, I tried again. "How did I get here?"

  I had no memory from last night that involved him.

  He cleared his throat and his gaze swung to the now covered window.

  "The club, which is a favorite among the courthouse crowd, is owned by a friend of mine. I was meeting with him about his daughter when I saw you, uh, dancing."

  Unease caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. "And?" Where was this going?

  "You were pretty out of it." His hesitation sent red flags screaming at me. "So, I brought you home. You passed out," he spread his hands and shrugged, "and here you are."

  He was looking at everything except my eyes.

  I stared, my eyes traced his skin. No lies. The first tendrils of anger sizzled under my skin and I narrowed my eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "Let's walk around a little." He slid his arm under mine, taking most of my weight as I complied. "I want to make sure you stay awake."

  The room shifted as I stood and I closed my eyes against the onslaught of nausea.

  "You all right?"

  I grunted in response, hoping it would be considered a yes.

  Questions beat against my head, along with the pickaxes and jackhammers. I'd had my share of hangovers in my lifetime, but none even approached this. Certainly none with gaping holes in my memory so large I could've driven a tour bus through them.

  I had to see him to see if he lied, so I forced my eyes to stay open. My attention stayed riveted to his face preparing to pounce on any indication of falsehood.

  I had to know one thing first. "We didn't…" I lifted an eyebrow.

  His eyes widened when he realized what I was asking. "No! No. Nothing like that. I wouldn't take advantage of you." His skin was unmarred.

  Relieved, I dragged in a deep breath. "Fill in the holes. I'm so confused." A frown pulled at my face. "How exactly did I end up with you taking me home?"

  He swallowed, his discomfort almost palpable. "My client's father owns the club. I've been treating his daughter for the past several years. David is difficult to reach outside of work, so I swung by to talk to him." We walked in tight circles through his living room. My comfort the other evening forgotten as I vigilantly monitored for lies. I felt helpless. A gaping blank space filled areas where memories should have been.

  "I was heading downstairs from his office when I saw you on the dance floor. You looked pretty out of it. The guy with you…" he paused, eyebrow raised as he waited for me to supply his name.

  Nothing. There was nothing there.

  I didn't remember meeting anyone.

  Panic threatened. It wrapped around my throat, stealing my words. I struggled to keep even breaths as my heart raced in my chest.

  My answering shrug was more casual than I felt. I i
mmediately regretted the movement as nausea threatened again.

  "He was struggling to help you outside."

  I blinked.

  Outside? Where were my friends while all this was going on?

  "Things didn't look right." He cleared his throat and his cheeks reddened. "So I, uh, followed you out."

  The muscles of my neck tensed as I waited for him to continue. It took everything in me not to grab him and yell for him to get on with it like some Monty Python sketch.

  "I thought I lost you guys in the parking lot. There was a mess of people at the door and it took me a while to get outside. When I finally did, I spotted him in the rear of the lot struggling to get you in the backseat of a car. You were practically unconscious."

  I swallowed thickly, alarm bells ringing in my ears.

  "I called out to him and asked if everything was okay." He snorted, shaking his head as we turned together to make another round in his living room. "He didn't come close to getting your name right."

  I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, my feet cold from the tile floor. "What happened after that?"

  "After he figured out that he was caught, he shoved you at me and sped off."

  "He got away?"

  "I didn't want to drop you to go after him. You were out of it." We stopped as he shifted, his eyes—detached and clinical—roved over my face as he checked my eyes. "I needed to make sure you were okay. I knew things were messed up with your boyfriend and I couldn't find any of your friends so I figured it was safest to take you to my place."

  His gentle fingers moved over my wrist, eyes focused inward as he measured my pulse. He nodded when he finished. I must have passed. We shuffled back into the bedroom.

  My mind spun as I tried to make sense of the whole mess. Embarrassment warred with fear, fear of what could have happened if Zak hadn't shown up.

  A tremor racked my body.

  The first hints of anger floated like smoke into my lungs. My fists balled at my sides as I shifted, lowering myself stiffly onto the bed. It sunk gently under my weight.

  Where the hell were my friends? Why hadn't they helped?

  "There are cameras at the club, right?"

  "I assume so. David runs a pretty tight ship."

  I nodded. Alejandro would be able to get the footage. He would take care of things.

  "I drank a lot, but not that much."

  "My guess is he slipped something in your drink."

  Most likely. Son of a bitch.

  It would have been easy to do, I'd lost track of my drink long enough. After going to House clubs for so long I'd become lax. There were more dangerous things to worry about at House clubs, something like a drug in my drink would have been easily spotted since I was monitored constantly.

  I'd wanted a night out like a normal human. I'd gotten one. Shit.

  "You can call the police and report it from here if you'd like."

  "I'm not calling them." I crossed my arms across my chest.

  "But Ari—"

  "No."

  "You need to be looked at. At least go to the hospital."

  "Absolutely not." I wasn't going to bend. "No hospital. No cops. No reporting anything."

  He set his jaw, crossing his arms, unknowingly mirroring my defiance.

  "I need to call Alejandro."

  "Fine," he ground the words between clenched teeth and passed me my cell.

  I pressed the single button that would connect me and waited, watching the storm gather in Zak's eyes as he stayed rooted in front of me. I refused to ask him to leave his own bedroom so I turned, my back offering me a semblance of privacy.

  I didn't have long to wait, Alejandro answered after the first ring.

  "Where are you?" His voice was low and deadly. I'd never stayed out all night in the four years we'd been together.

  "I was drugged last night at a club." I provided the succinct version. I wanted to avoid any mention of Zak if I could. "I didn't plan to stay out all night."

  "What?" His roar caused my blood to chill. I pulled the blanket over me as I explained, each word calculated to draw as little attention to my friend who I stayed with as possible.

  "I will contact the owner immediately." His voice dropped to a growl, each word deadly. "I will take care of this."

  I shivered, glad I wasn't the focus of is ire. This time. But for how long? How long would it be before I did something to get on his bad side? That caused him to wash his hands of me?

  What was my expiration date?

  "Are you okay?" Alejandro repeated, forcing my attention back to his question. His voice had warmed considerably, to anyone else he would've sounded like the caring boyfriend. He certainly fooled me long enough. "Do you want me to send someone for you?" Worry infused his voice. "I can pick you up if you'd like."

  He sounded so sincere. Maybe he did care in his own way.

  I was picking petals off a daisy.

  He loved me.

  He loved me not.

  I closed my eyes and pulled the blanket tighter around me, wishing I could read minds instead of lies.

  But would that be any better?

  "No." I clutched the phone tight in my grasp. "I'll be fine. I'll head home in a little bit. I just want my head to clear more."

  I pressed the button to disconnect us. The weary movement zapped the last of my energy. My head sank into my hands.

  The bed dipped and Zak's warm hand rubbed slow circles on my back. The soothing motion eased the tension in my shoulders. I scooted over and made room for him on his bed.

  His eyes met mine. I answered the question that swam unasked in their depths. "He'll take care of it."

  "You mean he'll take care of him. Right?"

  I nodded. I tried to dredge up some sort of pity for the stupid human who attempted to assault me. But I had none. He'd most likely done it before and would do it again.

  I watched the struggle on Zak's face as he went through a similar range of emotions. His curt nod of acceptance stilled the swirling anxiety that had begun to build as I waited for his condemnation.

  We both knew exactly what would happen when Alejandro got a hold of him. There wasn't a single doubt in my mind that the vampire would find him.

  Alejandro was shrewd. A human was no match for the resources as his disposal.

  "Are you sure you don't want to get checked out?"

  "You're a doctor aren't you?"

  "By a physician, Ari."

  I rolled my eyes at his persistence. I was fine. "I'll have one of our medical staff check me out when I get home. How's that?" I refused to let on how much his concern meant to me, hiding behind a feigned irritation.

  His heavy sigh preceded a mumbled compliance as he settled in closer, fingers sliding in between mine. The comforting touch settled my lingering anxiety.

  "You said some stuff."

  My heart slammed against my rib cage.

  "Like what?" My tone was casual, but in reality I was anything but. I shifted so I could watch his face, his expressions. The worried v between his brows was back.

  "I'm not as oblivious as you seem to think."

  I watched each emotion flash across his face—worry, annoyance, disappointment, concern—while I squeezed each breath through tightening lungs. "You can't put a lot of faith in what I said while I was drugged."

  "I don't think it was the drug, Ari."

  I worried my lip between my teeth.

  His gaze followed, eyes darkening. "I know there are things that can't be explained by conventional science. Things that can't be explained."

  I snorted. "What, like God?"

  "I mentioned my friend before. She's …" his eyes scanned the ceiling as if the answers were written there, "different."

  "Different how?" My eyes narrowed, guard firmly in place. I didn't like where this conversation was going.

  "She can do things. Things that can't be explained. Things that regular people can't do."

  Fear seized my heart in
a tightened fist.

  "I think you might know what I mean."

  He knew.

  I swallowed, gathering my armor. I wasn't revealing a thing. Not for my safety, but for his. "No clue." I shrugged, a smirk twisted my lips. "I'm fine now. Can you take me back to my car?" I shoved the blanket off, but his gentle hand on my arm stopped me.

  "My friend is clairvoyant."

  "Yeah, right." The surprised laugher sounded lighter than it felt. I hoped it hid my mounting worry.

  "Really."

  I froze, searching his skin. Not a single shimmer.

  "I've known her for years. I have no doubt in her abilities."

  The silence stretched between us. I was afraid to say anything. Afraid I'd say too much.

  "I have a feeling you know exactly what I'm talking about."

  What had I said? My heart raced, panic threatened. "I'm not clairvoyant." I bit out.

  "But you are something."

  I tried to think of some clever comeback, but my thoughts were a clouded mess. Everything in me shouted to run, but I remained frozen to the spot, torn between putting voice to the words and running away as fast as I could.

  He took my silence for agreement, which I suppose it was.

  "May I ask?"

  "No," I snapped.

  His eyes watched me, following every movement as my thoughts raced to catch up. "I don't need to know." He held up his hands in surrender. "But you can trust me. I've kept her secret for years."

  I flashed back to Alejandro's torture room, to the begging, the pleas.

  "Everyone has a breaking point." After a few moments I whispered, "People like to use those with special talents for their own purposes."

  "Is that what Alejandro does?"

  Again, I denied nothing.

  "I wish there was something I could do to help." Startled, I looked deep into his eyes.

  "There's nothing." And there wasn't. My bleak future stretched before me. I was a passenger on a train that had no choice but to follow the tracks. The heavy weight pressed against my chest. I should have never gotten on board. "There's only one way out."

  "There's no one in the police? He can't have bought everyone. What he's doing is illegal—"

  I laughed bitterly. "Human laws mean little in his world."