Page 4 of Licking Fire

Chapter Two

Alondra Pallon brushedflakes of snow from the shoulders of her red jacket before she rubbed her hands together, hoping to get some feeling back into them. She was careful to use slow movements, as her upper right arm was injured. It was bandaged, and she hoped the bleeding had finally stopped. It was the least of her concerns at the moment.

She knew she should remove her knit cap, but she was still freezing, and the idea of giving up any amount of warmth made her even colder. Shivering, she blew into her hands, hoping to warm them somewhat. Her mittens were in her pockets, soaked through. Everything on her was wet and cold.

Tears threatened to fall, but she clung to them, refusing to give in.

She’d hit the lowest point in her life, and she could only hope the rest of her life went smoother. She couldn’t continue as she’d been going for the past few weeks. She’d never survive. And she couldn’t do it alone.

Help was needed.

She stood outside the high-rise door that lacked anything in the way of holiday decorations, and continued to try to warm herself. Rayer Drackos owned the entire building. Heck, he owned most of this side of the city. She knew as much. She’d done her homework.

The lure of the building before her was too great to resist. While she’d lingered outside more than once, losing her nerve and leaving, the time had come to make contact with the reclusive businessman.

At the very least, she could warm up in the building’s lobby if the doorman didn’t run her off. Gathering her courage, Alondra crossed the busy street and entered the building, instantly getting hit with a blast of warm air.

She shivered and glanced around, wondering if she’d have a minute to not only warm up, but gather her thoughts as well. Within seconds, she was greeted by the doorman, who looked happy to see her.

She froze.

“It’s a cold one out there today,” the man said, his voice kind, his smile even kinder.

All she did was nod.

He walked around from the back of his desk and held a cup out, as if he’d been expecting her. Steam rolled off it. “Here. A quick bit of tea to take the chill out of the air.”

Alondra took the cup from the man and brought it to her lips, her gaze never leaving him. There was a certain something about the man that said he was incredibly caring and safe.

Something she’d not felt in weeks.

Exhaustion nearly won out, but she managed to stay upright and keep hold of the paper cup. The hot liquid slid over her tongue and down her throat, doing just as the man had promised. It took some of the cold from her, seeming to thaw her achingly cold bones.

She glanced around the lobby once more. The smallest of Christmas trees sat upon the counter of the desk, lit up, the only thing in the lobby indicating the holidays were upon them.

The doorman grinned. “That is my touch.”

She nodded. “I like it.”

The man winked. “The building’s owner is so-so on it.”

From the lack of anything more than strategically placed, high-end, modern artwork in the lobby, Mr. Drackos wasn’t much for holiday cheer.

She’d always loved this time of year when she was little. Not so much anymore. Now it was a harsh reminder of how alone she was in the world. And for one brief moment, she wished she had someone to share the holiday with.

Someone to laugh with.

Someone to love.

Various lies ran through her head to tell the doorman in order to be permitted access to Mr. Drackos. When Alondra finally settled on one that might work, she opened her mouth to say it but he cut her off.

“Take the elevator to the top floor. You’ll find who and what you’re looking for there,” the man said, winking again. He reached out and eased the cup from her hand before easing her in the direction of the elevator doors. “I’m Timothy, and he’ll be expecting you.”

Before she could so much as question why he wasn’t demanding to know who she was and what she wanted, he had her loaded onto the elevator and the button for the top floor pressed, and then the doors were shutting.

Stunned, she rode up in silence, all by herself, staring at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. The doors opened when she reached the top floor and she stepped out, still at a loss as to why it had been so easy to gain access to the city’s number-one recluse.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she said to herself, walking in the direction of the door.

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