Red Handed (Young Adult Alien Huntress 1)
Page 7Allison opened her mouth to respond, but Ryan cut her off with a look. Just a single, dark look that caused her to press her lips together in a mutinous line. Then, of course, she flashed me a teeth-baring scowl as if everything was my fault and whipped around, flouncing away.
I was once again alone with Ryan—who I wasn't sure I liked. He was too bossy, too arrogant, too everything. But I knew I liked to look at him. He was a (sexy) mystery, a (beautiful) confusing puzzle.
“What's your name?” he asked me. His blue eyes were swirling, churning. Like an ocean tempest.
“Phoenix.”
“Cute,” he said.
“You wouldn't think so if it was your name,” I grumbled.
His lips twitched into a smile. “I was talking about you, not the name. But I like that, too.”
He thought I was cute? “It's stupid.”
“No way.”
“Every day someone compares me to a bird that burns to death.”
“That bird also rises from its own ashes, stronger than ever before.”
Okay. I now officially liked my name. I'd never thought of it that way, but loved the image. I had risen from my own ashes and was trying to make a better life for myself.
Ryan's expression changed from amused to regretful in the blink of an eye. “I'm very sorry, Phoenix,” he said.
I blinked over at him in confusion. “For what?” Despite his earlier rudeness, he really had done nothing but help me.
I grabbed onto his wrist and tried to shove him away. He held tight. Weak as I was, I couldn't budge him. Strangely, I was only growing weaker. Swiftly so.
“My fingers are doused with a sleep aid,” he explained calmly. “Sleep, Phoenix.”
Our conversation, his praise of my name—obviously only a means of distracting me, I thought darkly. I tried to scream at him, to curse him, but only managed to suck in more of the bitter fumes. How dare he do this! How dare he…do…this…
Once again, I was faced with a black spiderweb. This one was stronger, more potent than the other. Alluring, beckoning me to peace. Like a drug. Sleep would be unbelievably sweet.
I was going to pass out; I knew I was.
But I fought it, fought the sweetness, just as I had fought the Sybilins. Just as I now fought Ryan. What was he planning to do with me? I wriggled and bucked and landed a blow to his right eye. My fist smacked into bone. Satisfaction flooded me.
“Damn it,” he growled, but there was no real heat to the words. He tried to capture my hands with his free one. “That hurt.”
Good. I managed to punch him a second time before he pinned both of my wrists.
“I'm not going to harm you,” he said. He sounded far away, slurred. “Stop fighting. Please. I'm doing this for your own good.”
I didn't want to obey him, but the world around me was crumbling. No, not crumbling. Had crumbled. Completely. I had no solid anchor; I was floating. My head was too heavy, my shoulders weighted with bricks. My eyelids closed, practically glued together. For me, there was only darkness and a never-ending tunnel.
“How is she still fighting?” I heard Allison say. I hadn't heard her return.
“I don't know,” Ryan said, and there was awe in his tone. “Sleep, Phoenix. Sleep.” Warm breath tickled my ear. “Everything's going to be okay. I'll take care of it. I'll take care of you. Promise.”
It was the last thing I heard before finally sinking into oblivion.
“Load her up,” I heard a man say. He sounded far away yet familiar. Ryan, I realized a moment later. Mmm, Ryan. So cute. No, bastard. “Take her home, and be careful with her.”
Suddenly I was floating.
“Kadar,” Ryan called.
“Yeah?”
“Tell her parents…I don't know.” Ryan paused. “I hate to tell them we're cops and we caught her using. I don't want her in trouble after everything she did.”
“I won't mention the drugs, all right?” someone—Kadar?—replied. A man; a stranger to me. “I'll just tell them I found her like this and used her ID to track down her address. We'll leave it up to the parentals to decide what she did or didn't do at the party.”
I should protest. I tried to open my mouth, but no sound emerged.
“Fine,” Ryan said. “That'll be fine.”
The fog claimed me again, and I knew only darkness.
“How could you, Nix? How could you?”
My mom's angry voice battered through the black shroud covering my mind. My body pulsed and throbbed with pain, I suddenly realized, as if I'd been in a wreck. A fight. Something.
My mouth was dry, so dry. My skin prickled and itched.
I'll take care of you. Promise.
“Nix! Wake up. Right now.”
There was my mom again, insistent and furious. What had I done wrong this time? Had I stayed out too late and missed curfew?
Everything's going to be okay.
Again, the male voice filled my head. I wanted to see the speaker. See his face, which somehow shimmered tauntingly in shadows. I moaned, trying to force myself to wake up completely.
As consciousness gradually claimed me, I smacked my dry lips together. God, I was thirsty.
“Finally,” my mother grumbled. Her fingers closed around my shoulders, and she shook me. “Come on, Nix. I'm tired of waiting.” There was a tension-filled pause. “And I'm not going to do it anymore, not when you're responsible for every bit of my pain.”
I cracked open my heavy eyelids. Too-bright sunlight filtered past my white curtains, causing my eyes to tear and burn. I rubbed a shaky hand over my face and scratched at my itchy cheek.
“Water,” I rasped past the hard lump in my throat. Past the cotton in my mouth. “Water.”
Exasperated, my mom stomped from my room, only to return a few minutes later with a glass. I drained the contents in seconds, sucking it down as if my life depended on it. Hmm, good. So good. Cold and wet and heaven on earth. When I finished, I set the cup on my nightstand.
“You ready to talk now?” she said.
“What's going on?” I asked. I was in my bedroom, lying on my bed, but the last thing I remembered was trees. And dirt. Moonlight. Yes, moonlight. In the next instant, a boy's face flashed into my mind. The boy's face, the one who kept speaking in my mind.