Three

Caution: May contain strong language.

 

A pain radiated through her skull like no other.

            It was like a hammer had been pounding its way out while a jackhammer was trying to get in. Alex groaned and slowly cracked her eyes open, realizing she was lying on her stomach in some sort of cell. “F**k,” she muttered and rolled over onto her back. She stared up at the dizzying ceiling of cement as her vision started to clear.

            Cement blocks greeted her eyes with a flickering light hanging in the middle of the tiny room. She glanced around, yawning, wondering where she was at until what had happened came slamming back into her mind. The shadows, the daemons, the voice. Something about that voice called to her and she never wanted to let it go. She wanted to bathe in its immense glory and soak up every last delicious octave. Deep and sure, like a river yet harsh like the owner had seen better days.

            Alex sat up, slowly, her body aching from the movement. How long was she out? It felt like days according the snapping and popping of her joints. She stretched once up and hopped to her feet. Her boots were still on and clothes were somewhat disheveled indicating she’d been roughly placed into this room. Most likely thrown.

            Maybe that’s why her head was pounding; she had landed face first on the concrete floor. Wondering just who was that ballsy, she traipsed around the tiny room. It was no bigger than a regular jail cell with a tiny bed in one corner that held a few pictures on the top comforter and a metal door lining the opposite side.

            She walked over, glancing at the large glossy images. Picking one up, she gasped. They were of her. From a couple of days ago when she was out with Grey for coffee, holding the steaming cup tightly between her hands. There was another of her exiting headquarters downtown with a pissed off look on her face. Most likely because her boss had upset her with his actions and ways. He can be a d****e sometimes. She flipped through them all, varying times and days of whoever caught her, with her face always scrunched up in an expression of aggravation or fatigue.

            She shuddered. Someone had been following her. But why?

            The last picture was the most recent of her entering Death’s Door after a long day of work. “What is this?” She whispered, dropping the pictures back onto the bed. Or cot rather, with its metal hinges and headboard and wooly looking blanket.

            She patted the pockets of her jeans and jacket and came up empty. No phone or wallet. Damn. She checked the waistband and noticed her dagger was gone. Whoever these guys were that had her were smart and covered all basics. She had no phone nor a weapon so she was stuck. Just what was going on?

            Just then, the door opened. The brown eyed daemon from before stepped through and kicked the door shut. Alex hopped back, ready to fight if need be. “Who are you?” She demanded.

            He shook his head and held out his arms in a placating gesture. “My name is Ryn. I’m here to watch you.”

            She cocked a brow. “Uh, why?”

            Ryn lowered his arms. “I’m under command to.”

            “By who?”

            He shrugged. “You’ll see soon enough, DeLuca.”

            “O-kay,” she muttered. “Well, can at I least find out why am I here?”

            Another shrug with his palms out. “Can’t do that.”

            “And why is that?” She stepped forward with one foot, cautious to keep an eye on his hands.

            “Under orders.”

            So, this was getting her absolutely nowhere. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Seriously?”

            He nodded.

            They had a stare-down, the headache dying out slightly, but still at the back of her head. She looked him over from his mop of brown hair to his broad chest to his boots. He was clad all in black with cargo pants, a long sleeved Henley, and some kickass combat boots. He was handsome, she’d give him that. Maybe not drop-dead gorgeous in the classical sense but he was good looking with a perfectly shaped nose that sloped gently with black hoops adorning the left nostril and high cheek bones. His lips were full while his jaw was chiseled.

            Alex hadn’t realized she moved closer to him until she saw they were over a foot apart. She quickly moved back. “So, where am I?”

            He opened his mouth but Alex answered for him.

            “Let me guess, can’t tell me?”

            “You got it.”

            She chewed on her bottom lip. “Where do I know you from?”

            This caught him off guard as he rose a brow and looked at her like she’d grown an extra head. “Me?”

            She rolled her eyes. “No, the jackass behind you. Yes you.”

            He shrugged. For the third time. “Don’t know.”

            The dull ache was back in her head, more vengeful than ever, and she gripped her forehead. “Can I get some ibuprofen or something for my head at least?”

            He nodded and left.

            Alex sighed, again, and began a frantic search for a way out. The door was locked and there was no window. She was stuck.

            Goddamn it.