Page 6 of Griffin Undone
Of course, drawing attention from men like the one who’d spoken to me wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for.
Lenny nodded, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with my assessment or acknowledging that I was, indeed, done for the night.
“You available tomorrow?”
“I haven’t missed a night in three years, Lenny.”
My boss grunted at that, but absently, his mind still on the bartenders. I fought back a sigh. Really, ridiculous wasn’t even in the ballpark at this point. Maybe I should jump onto the bar and strip. What would he do then?
Probably shake his head and say,I think you want the bar down the street, hon, all the while staring to make sure none of the other employees ripped him off.
I bet Mr. Silver Eyes would notice.Those eyes had practically stripped me bare. A shiver snaked down my spine, ending in warmth that exploded low in my belly, and yet the thought of being that exposed to anyone turned me cold.
Lenny turned away, oblivious to the chaos churning silently in my head. “See you tomorrow then.”
Watching his back, I realized that, except for that first moment when I’d called his name, he’d never actually looked at me.
And I was so close to done with all this.
“Maybe you won’t see me tomorrow, Lenny.” The words were no more than a whisper and he wasn’t close enough to hear, but they escaped anyway. Not that I’d follow through. I needed the money, and getting a job in music in Nashville was mostly a matter of who you knew, not what.
And we all know you suck in the knowing-people department.
I forced myself to relax my clenched fists, shaking out the ache as I strode toward the back rooms of the bar. My threadbare coat hung on the coatrack in the break room, and I shimmied into it and left, ignoring everything but the need to escape. The cold night air settled deep into my lungs, tasting of winter and darkness. The occasional car rushed by, exhaust white in the chilly air. People stumbled down the tilting sidewalks that ran through the downtown area, in pairs or groups, laughing and sharing drunken stories as they headed back to wherever they’d come from. Passing me by. Leaving silence in their wake. I walked by the infamous Printer’s Alley, unafraid of being accosted. Who would notice me, after all?
The question echoed, bitter, in my brain. Then the memory of yellow eyes flashed, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold hit me.
I stopped at the red light at the farthest corner of the courthouse square, waited for the Walk signal, then hurried into a quieter part of downtown. My steps were the only sound as I made my way toward my one-room apartment above the dirty pawnshop on the edge of Nashville’s inner city. I had been lucky to find it, lucky I could afford it on the little I brought home in pay from the bar. Before Lenny’s…well, things had been rough. The foster-care system had pushed me onto the streets at eighteen, no money for a college education or decent housing or a car. I’d done the best I could with my talent and a high school diploma, building a home in my tiny apartment and a quiet life. A damn good life, alone or not.
The blare of a car alarm shook me out of my self-absorption. In the abrupt silence that followed the sound cutting off, I noticed something I’d been too busy arguing with myself to realize: the street was too quiet. Totally silent—no traffic, no blaring radios or shouted arguments or…
Every hair from my wrists to my nape stood on end. How long had it been this quiet?
A glance over my shoulder showed nothing moving among the cars lined up in the lot of the tiny used-car dealership. The tax prep office next door was equally empty. Across the street, blank brick walls stared back at me. Silence should be a good thing, but it didn’t feel good. It felt—
My toe caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Blind in the dark and confusion, I threw out my hands to meet the hard concrete pavement. What I touched wasn’t concrete, though; it was flesh. Slowly, heart pounding, I looked up, up, up into eyes glittering with menace. Eyes I didn’t recognize. I didn’t recognize the body either, nor the teeth that flashed in the darkness, seeming far longer than they should be.
Before I could register more than that, rough hands spun me into the yawning black cavern of a nearby alley.
Instinct had me opening my mouth to scream, but a hard hand clamped down, covering the lower half of my face before it could escape—and cutting off my air. I sucked in, desperate to breathe, but inhaled only musky sweat, the taste bitter on my tongue. My lungs squeezed down on the nothing that filled them. Even before the lack of air fully registered, I was fighting, clawing and twisting against the unyielding body that held me captive.
“Beautiful Katherine.”
I flinched, my skull cracking against the hard chest at my back. I knew that voice.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I watched a dark shape emerge from the shadows before me—the man from Lenny’s, the one who’d spoken to me after my performance tonight. His amber eyes glowed in the black hole of the alley. I realized I was trying to shake my head, but all I really accomplished was straining my neck muscles until I thought they’d snap. Still, I couldn’t stop. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell did he want with me?
The man stepped closer. A whimper escaped into the hand covering my mouth. The grip was hurting me, but I had a feeling the man in front of me was planning much worse. When he seized my arm and tore me away from my captor, I found I’d been right—muscle and bone were crushed beneath that punishing grip. This time my scream escaped, ringing against the walls that hid me from help, drawing laughter from far more than two men. Through the agony I saw a hint of white in the dark—the amber-eyed man’s feral grin. He enjoyed my pain.
Dangling in his brutal grasp, I watched several bulkier figures surround me. All male, all with greed in their shining eyes. What they wanted was obvious. So was the fact that I wouldn’t survive it.
“I told you, Katherine,” the man said, drawing my gaze away from my pending fate, back to his cruel face. “You have a gift. I’m here to collect it—and you.”
ChapterThree
Arik
The Anigma soldiers hadn’t tried to kill me. Not surprising. Now that Maddox knew I was alive, he would want to do the honors himself. Too bad that wish had cost him half a dozen soldiers, because I had no qualms about killing.
