I dodge to my right, jumping out of its way, and bump the side of the dresser with my elbow, knocking a lamp to the ground.
“Ow!” I exclaim, rubbing my elbow as an eruption of giggles flutter through the room. “Real funny, you freakin' little gremlins.” I hate Sprites. Not only are they strange, abnormal-looking creatures, but their personalities and mischievousness are irritating.
I scan the room until I spot one standing on the bed, materializing pretty much out of nowhere. I start to make my way to it as it jumps on the bed, fluttering its wings, letting out giggle after giggle, unfazed by me.
Right as I reach the foot of the bed, I’m rammed from behind, the force slamming mostly against the back of my knees. Arms wrap around them and I jerk back, falling forward, as I slam face first into the floor. The knife shoots out from my fingers as I try to flip to my back. Rolling over, I lift my knee to kick it, but it has disappeared. I groan. This is the last thing I need. A bunch of giggling Sprites that want to play hide-and-seek-torture-Gemma.
I start to sit up, reaching for my knife when something cracks over the top of my head. I hear the sound of glass shattering and then I’m surrounded by broken pieces of the lamp. My head spins as the room starts to sway. I tip sideways, my vision spotting. The last thing I hear are giggles and then everything goes black.
***
I’m standing in front of a slender tunnel, smothered by darkness, but there’s a light glowing vividly at the end of it. I walk towards it with my hands to my side and my heart knocking inside my chest. As I get closer, I can hear voices that ring with familiarity.
When I reach the light and step into the warmth, the tunnel opens up, altering as it splits open and widens out into a room that has red walls decorated with metal lanterns. In the middle of the room is a table, enclosed by chairs, and sitting in one of the end chairs is Alex.
He’s leaning back, his brown hair slicked back in a style I’ve never seen on him before. He’s dressed in a black shirt, black pants, and black boots; not his usual choice for clothing. His green eyes look a little darker, too, and, I have to admit, I don’t like it. I don’t like his look at all.
Standing next to him is a woman with blond hair that runs down her back in curls. A form-fitting black dress hugs her body and her black stilettos make her look taller than she really is. There’s a haughty look in her eyes and the way she carries her chin high, along with her shoulders. She snakes her arm around Alex’s shoulders as she leans in and whispers something in his ear. He responds with a grin; jealousy and anger blaze inside me. I have the urge to step forward, pull her hair, and then slap him across the face, but I clench my hands into fists, telling myself it isn’t what it looks like because Alex loves me.
In the corner of the room is a massively large, iron-rod birdcage. The door to it is secured with a heavy padlock and someone’s crouched inside. I inch closer to the cage, trying to get a better view of who it is and I’m shocked to find it’s a man, because usually there are Black Angels inside these kinds of cages.
He’s sporting worn looking jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, his dark hair curled up slightly below his ears. His arms are tracked with various shaped tattoos and his head is tipped forward with his back turned to me.
“Are you ready to cooperate?” Alex’s voice causes me to look at him and his gaze is targeted at the cage.
The woman beside him tracks her long nails through Alex’s hair, ruffling it. “Oh he’s going to try and be the strong and silent type. How sweet.” Her voice is sugary and annoying.
Alex shoves the woman aside, causing her to lose her balance and topple in her heels. She grasps on to the edge of the table, regaining her balance, and shoots Alex a dirty glare. “What was that for?”
He ignores her and fixes his attention on the guy inside the cage, his eyes like cinders. “You know you’re just making it harder on yourself. If you join us, there’d be no pain. If you don’t… well, let’s just say I wouldn’t choose that route if I were you.”
I don’t like the tone in his voice, or the stone look on his face. Something’s wrong. He’s not acting like himself.
The guy in the cage gradually turns around and faces Alex. It’s Evan, only he looks beaten and worn down; dark bags underneath his eyes, his lips cracked like he’s dehydrated, and there are scratches on his skin.
“You know I’ll never join you,” Evan says calmly. “So I don’t even know why you’re trying.”
Alex pushes the chair back and slowly stands to his feet. Walking toward the cage, he smiles. “Oh, I haven’t even begun to try.”
I don’t get it. Why is he acting this way? Like he’s possessed. “Oh my God, he’s possessed,” I whisper in horror, backing up, wishing I didn’t have to watch this.
The door behind me swings open and Draven enters the room. He walks past the blond, before stopping beside Alex and me. He observes Evan with a sinister expression and then puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
“Any luck getting him to cooperate?” Draven asks, slanting his head to the side to look at the cage.
“I’m still working on it,” Alex responds in a deadpan tone. “But he’s being uncooperative.”
Draven shakes his head as he drops his hand from Alex’s shoulder. “It’s one thing I’ve never understood about you humans. You always want to do things the hard way. Go ahead Alex, take his soul.”
I watch in horror as both Alex and Draven walk towards the cage with their arms to the side of them, their eyes cold. I don’t know what they’re going to do, but the tension and coldness in the air let me know that it’s bad. I don’t want to watch. I don’t want to see Alex acting this way and I’m grateful when I feel myself being pulled away, glad I never get to find out just how far into the darkness of evil he’s gone.
Chapter 22
Gemma
I open my eyes and my knee instinctively shoots up along with my arm, ready to kick the ass of the creeper hovering over me.