Page 13 of Lucifer's Mirror
I don’t know whether anyone will track me here, but I’m not waiting around to find out. I’m guessing I have a couple of hours before complete darkness, and I plan to be ensconced in some cozy bed and breakfast before that.
The house is quiet, and Pete’s truck is gone—I presume he’s back at work and driving off somewhere, hopefully far away. So at least I won’t have to worry about Josh while I’m gone. I find the spare key hidden under a plant pot and let myself in. Making a quick detour to the kitchen, I grab a packet of biscuits before heading down to my room and eating them on the way.
My room is in the basement. When I first arrived, I slept upstairs, but Pete said my constant screaming—I’ve always had nightmares, though I don’t remember them—kept him awake. But I like it this way. Lissa and Pete never come down here. Lissa is too lazy, and Pete thinks it’s haunted. I have no clue why—honest. I find my backpack on the bed; Zayne or Josh must have left it there. My phone is inside, and I send a quick text to Zayne asking him to come home ASAP.
If he comes before I leave, then I’ll tell him… I don’t know what, something. I don’t want him to worry that I’ve vanished without a trace. If he doesn’t come, then I’ll call him when I’m safe somewhere. But it’s a conversation I’d prefer to have in person.
Once I’ve sent the text, I quickly change into jeans and a T-shirt and slip comfortable boots on my sore feet, just in case I need to run again. I add a jacket, then shove a couple of changes of clothes into my rucksack along with some essential toiletries. And I’m done. I check my little envelope of cash. There’s over four hundred left; it should last me a while if I’m careful. And I have my savings, but I’d prefer not to access my bank account unless I have to, in case someone is checking up on me.
Am I paranoid? Hell, yes.
I heft the bag onto my shoulder, slip my phone into my pocket—no reply from Zayne yet—and head up the stairs. I pause at the front door. It’s gotten dark quicker than I expected, and I frown, a frisson of unease running through me.
At that moment, I hear the rumble of a motorbike, and the tension seeps away. The bike comes to a halt in front of the gate, and Zayne dismounts and heads up the path, removing his helmet as he walks. He stops in front of me, taking in my stuffed bag, his eyes narrowing.
“What’s going on? You didn’t come home last night. Josh was worried.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah. I told him it’s a girl thing, and I took him round to his mate’s house first thing.”
“Good.” I rub at my forehead while I decide what to tell him. Part of me wants to share what happened, but it’s so crazy, and maybe he’ll think I’m making it up or hallucinating or something. There are plenty of people who consider me crazy already. I’d hate to add Zayne to the list.
“Amber, are you leaving?”
“Only for a few days.”
“Why? What’s happened? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. Look, this is going to sound crazy, but last night when I ran off…” Shit, how do I say this? “I think something was following me.”
Zayne frowns. “Something or someone?”
“I don’t know. But I got spooked and ran, crashing straight into this guy. It was like he was waiting for me. He said he’d been expecting me for three years. Zayne, he knew something about who I was before.”
“Or maybe he was just pretending.”
“Why would he? And how would he know about me? Anyway, he said some really weird stuff that I’m still processing, but mainly he told me that I was in danger—that whatever had been following me would come back. And if I wanted to live, I should go with him.”
“And you fell for that? Honestly, Amber, are you really that naive?”
“You weren’t there—he was very convincing. And he said he would tell me what he knows. And yeah, I wanted to know what he knows, so I went. But then we met his friend, and the guy just seemed off somehow. They took me to Manchester and to this penthouse apartment and locked me in. That was when I started getting worried.”
He searches my face. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you or anything?”
“No, I never saw either of them after that. I woke up in the morning, and someone had put this through my door.” I pull the envelope from my pocket and hand him the note.
“Get out of here now. Your life is in danger,” Zayne reads. “What the fuck? You know who sent this?”
I shake my head. “No. But maybe the other guy. Trystan. He didn’t seem to want me there. And whoever it was left money as well.” I show him the cash in the envelope.
“That is seriously freaky,” he mutters.
“I know, right? And I’m worried Khaosti will find me if I stay here, and I need some time to sort things out and think about what to do next. I thought I’d go stay in a bed and breakfast for a couple of days while I do that.”
He watches me silently, maybe trying to decide if he should call the men in the white coats to come and take me away. Lock me in a padded cell. Then he shrugs. “Okay. I’ll take you on the bike.”
“Maybe it’s better if you don’t know where I am.”
