Chapter 08 | The Devil of Siren City

Skylar

“No!” I say, a sharp pain stabbing behind my right eye.

“No?”

Nausea turns my stomach. I drop my bags. The orchid, too. “No,” I say through blurred vision. “I mean—“

Someone nudges my shoulder. “You’re being very rude, lady.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding my throbbing temples.

“Here we are, three upstanding gentlemen offering to walk you home in this dangerous city, and you say no?”

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re gonna be.”

“I didn’t mean to— ahh!”

My knees threaten to buckle. The throbbing continues, pain stabbing deeper, the voice growing louder and louder.

Now.

Do it now.

“I can’t,” I answer it. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

Yes, you did.

You want them to die.

Just like you did before—

“No!” I say. “Shut up! Please stop...”

One of them shoves me against the wall, forcing me to look up into his eyes. He’s young, far too young, but strong in the arms and torso. This isn’t the first time he’s roughed up a woman in an alleyway. I probably won’t be the last one, either.

The voice in my head laughs.

Welcome to Siren City.

“Let me go,” I beg.

“Hey, Rouge,” says the man to his left, his voice full of nerves. “This bitch is crazy.”

“Yeah,” Rouge answers with a laugh. “No shit.”

“What should we do with her?” the other asks.

A switchblade flicks open. I tremble as Rouge touches it against my cheek. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he says, his voice smooth, almost seductive.

You just gonna let this happen?

“No,” I whisper.

Rouge smirks. “No?”

“No.”

He laughs. “What are you gonna do? Where you gonna go?” He pinches my chin with two firm fingers. “You belong to Ares now, babe.”

Gross.

I headbutt him, my forehead colliding with his nose.

Rouge stumbles back, his free hand coming to touch the blood now dripping from his nostril. “What the fuck—”

That’s my girl!

But I didn’t do that!

That wasn’t—

I punch him, aiming for his chin. Sharp pain fires through my fingers and forearm, turning me numb from the elbow down. I hiss from the pain, cradling my hand while staring at it in shock.

How did I—?

Sorry to interrupt, but you should be running now.

I pivot to dash away, but a rock solid arm hooks me by the neck.

“Hel—!”

Smothered by a gloved hand, I tumble to the concrete, my knees kicked out from under me. He yanks my head back by the hair and presses another blade against my throat. Cold and sharp.

Rouge stands over me. He wipes his nose, spreading red along his cheek. “I think I’m going to enjoy watching Ares do what he’s going to do to you.” He chuckles. “Maybe he’ll let me play with what’s left of you…”

Trash cans clatter behind Rouge; the third man thrown into the bins hard enough to knock the wind out of him. A shape emerges from the noise, moving fast, forcing Rouge to spin around as the man behind me suddenly loosens his grip on my hair.

I pull myself free, feeling the cruel scratch of the blade on my neck as I spin onto my back and kick him in the knees. He fumbles backward, stumbling over my shopping bags before falling to the ground, his focus locked on something behind me instead.

I look. And gasp.

Adrian stands tall, his hand firmly pressed against Rouge’s throat. Pinned to the wall, Rouge squirms, slashing wildly with his knife. In one quick movement with his free hand, Adrian disarms him, tossing the blade to the ground. Rouge is clearly outmatched. Adrian’s terse expression stays firm, his eyes showing little more than minor annoyance over this encounter.

I watch with bated breath, actively aware of the other man behind me, but he doesn’t seem all that interested in grabbing me again. He crab walks backward with a coward’s whimper as Adrian slams Rouge harder against the wall. Adrian flexes, sliding Rouge higher until the kid’s toes barely scrape the ground.

A rush of heat curls throughout my body.

Yes.

Adrian stares into his eyes, almost as if he wants Rouge to stare back. After a moment, Rouge stops struggling. His eyes widen. Then, panic. Fear. Respect. It all crosses Rouge’s face before he nods; a silent plea to be let go.

Adrian casually tosses him to the ground with a flick of his arm. A troublesome pest. Nothing more.

“Come on.” Rouge gets up, nearly tripping over himself as he grabs his friends. “Come on!”

They scatter like roaches, their racing feet thudding against the pavement as they bolt out of the alley, their panicked sounds blending with the midday rush on Market Street.

I exhale, my digits trembling as my adrenaline reaches its end.

“Skylar.” Adrian kneels, his leg close enough to graze mine. “You’re all right now.”

I push myself up further and accept his hand. It’s cold to the touch. He’s so calm. “Thank you,” I say.

He pulls me to my feet. When I let go of his hand, I see red on my fingers. With trained eyes, I immediately spot the line of dripping blood traveling down his arm, staining the sleeves of his white shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” I bend and grab a shirt from one of my shopping bag. “Let me see.”

“Don’t—”

I tie it around his bicep, the clear source of the wound. Rouge wasn’t as amateurish with that knife as he seemed. “Hold this here,” I say. “Keep pressure on it.”

Adrian obeys. “I’ll replace the shirt,” he says, more concerned about that over his well-being.

“I bought two,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.” I look over my shoulder, still aware of what brought me to this alley in the first place. “Let’s get back to the apartment. I’ll take a closer look at it.”

Adrian reaches out. His fingers on my chin, he softly guides my head to one side. “They cut you,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Can’t even feel it.”

He flexes his jaw, his eyes tinged with anger. His touch lingers for a few breaths before he lets me go and I step back, bending to gather my bags now spread out on the ground. And the orchid. It survived, thankfully. Only lost a dash of soil when I dropped it.

Adrian takes half of the bags without a word, his eyes checking me over again.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Really. They just scared me, mostly.”

You belong to Ares now, babe.

Who the fuck is Ares?