Burning Alive
Page 3

Helen shivered and heard a small moan lift from her mouth. Every cell in her body stood at attention from that one little touch. Her skin grew warm and her abdomen tightened against a jolt of heat. She wanted something she couldn’t name. Needed it. It wasn’t just desire. It went deeper than that. Bone deep. Soul deep. He had something that belonged to her and she wanted it. Even if it killed her.
His lips slid over her cheek, barely touching. Maybe not even touching, just stirring the fine hairs along her skin. Whatever he was doing, it was wonderful, fear or not. She felt as if she was being filled up with energy. She felt more alive than she ever had before. All from a barely there touch from the man who would watch her die.
Freaking irony.
From somewhere far off, Drake heard the old woman gasp in shock and he struggled to pull himself back to reality. By the time he’d made the long, long journey to the here-and-now, his fingers had wrapped themselves around one of the brunette’s braids so that her head was tilted back to the optimum angle for a slow, deep kiss. Perfect.
He would have done just that if it hadn’t been for the way she was clutching her purse against her chest like a shield. She was still afraid of him. Shit.
“Give me your name,” he ordered her, not caring how rough his voice sounded. He needed her name. Hell, he needed a lot more of her than just that, but with the audience they had, he was going to have to settle for that small piece.
“Helen Day.”
God, he loved the sound of her voice, so soft and sweet. He closed his eyes again, letting the sound of her, the smell of her, sink into him. He could spend half a year just listening to her talk, letting the gentle sweep of her voice soothe him.
He was way too wrapped up in how he could make the small space between them even smaller when he heard a warning shout from Thomas half a second too late. Miss Mabel’s walker slammed down over his head, sending pain screaming over his skull.
“Go back to your wife, you . . . you man-whore!” shouted the old woman, raising her walker for another strike.
Whore? Wife? Drake had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn’t stand there long enough to ask. He could already feel a lump swelling up on the back of his skull. The old woman might look frail, but she packed one heck of a wallop.
Drake reached for Miss Mabel, intending to carefully take the aluminum weapon from her hands before she hurt herself. Or him.
He was too late. Thomas was already on the case and had taken the old lady into his burly arms, holding her carefully despite her struggles.
Helen stood up, pushing her way around Drake to get to the old lady. “Let her go!”
Thomas ignored her, still holding on to the old woman, trying to calm her down with soothing words. “I’m not going to hurt you, ma’am. None of us are going to hurt any of you. Isn’t that right, Zach?”
Five feet away, Zach had Lexi pinned against the countertop by the cash register, nearly bent over backward. She was fighting him, pounding and clawing at him, but Zach accepted her blows, grinning like they tickled.
“Hey, she’s the one trying to hurt me. I just want to talk.” Zach’s voice dipped lower and his grin widened. “But I’m willing to play if you want, honey. I don’t mind if you like it rough.”
Lexi growled and lashed out at Zach with her fists.
From the corner of his eye, Drake saw Helen start to make a dash toward Thomas and the old woman, but Drake was faster. He snagged her by looping an arm around her waist and pulling her up against his chest. It was a mistake. As soon as he had her soft, curvy body against his, his brain started to shut down. From a vague, fuzzy distance, he could feel her fighting to free herself, pushing and pulling at his arm. He could hear her frightened voice calling her friends’ names. He could sense the panic inside her, the frantic strength that increased with every swift beat of her heart. He just couldn’t seem to figure out what it all meant or what he should do. All he knew was he couldn’t let her go. He needed her.
This whole situation had gone completely out of control, but he just didn’t care. He had Helen in his arms, reluctant as she was, and he didn’t hurt anymore. For the first time in decades, he felt good. It was such a shock that it left him reeling, staring stupidly at the part between her silky, dark braids. He wanted to bend down and kiss the smooth skin at the nape of her neck so bad it made him shake.
Drake had bent to do just that when his grip failed and Helen slipped out of his grasp.
Pain slammed into him with a tangible force that drove him to his knees right there on the chipped tile floor. Power flooded him and ripped through his veins, hammering his bones with pounding agony. He was sure every one of them had been broken, that his organs had been pulverized. Nothing else could explain so much pain. He couldn’t stand. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.
The power he housed inside his body had grown slowly, steadily, over the course of years. The pressure had increased over decades, giving him a chance to get used to the pain it caused. But now it all came flooding back inside him in the space of an instant and his brain couldn’t adjust. His body couldn’t function. At the gray edges of his mind, he heard himself scream, a terrible, high-pitched noise. He knew he was dying, but right now that was a good thing. It would all be over soon, but it couldn’t be soon enough.
Helen wasn’t sure what she’d done to Vision Man to send him to his knees, but she didn’t stop to worry about it. Miss Mabel was still trying to get away from the big bruiser who held her, and it looked as though she was running out of steam.
Lexi, on the other hand, was holding her own against the third man. He’d pushed her down so that she was almost lying on the counter near the cash register. “Stop fighting me before you hurt yourself,” he told her.
Lexi knocked the toothpick dispenser to the floor, making it spew toothpicks everywhere. She got one knee between them and pushed, but it didn’t work.
The man simply pressed his body down harder onto hers until she had no room to maneuver. “Are you done yet?”
Her hand fumbled over the counter until she found the metal stand used to collect order tickets and jammed the sharp spike into her captor’s arm.
He looked down at the metal sticking out of his skin and smiled. Actually smiled. “Good shot, woman.” He sounded as if he was proud of Lexi, which was completely insane, but at least Lexi was still able to fight.
Miss Mabel wasn’t, and Helen wasn’t sure how she was going to get her free. The man who held her was huge. Tall, wide, muscular. He probably outweighed her and Miss Mabel put together.
“Let her go,” demanded Helen, racking her brain for what to do now. Pick up a chair and hit him? No, she might hit Miss Mabel. Throw a sugar shaker at his head? She might be able to hit him without hitting her friend.
Helen was out of ideas, so she went with the best one she had. She grabbed for the closest sugar shaker, but before she could throw it, the giant stepped forward and simply handed Miss Mabel to Helen. She wasn’t sure what had changed his mind, but she didn’t question her good fortune. She gladly took over the job of supporting Miss Mabel. He was careful with her frail body, gentle. He took his time making the transfer and then when she was clear, he shot to the floor, where Vision Man was writhing.
“Zach!” he shouted. “Need a little help here with Drake when you’re done playing with the girl.”
The man who had pinned Lexi—Zach—let her go, ripped the spike out of his arm, and set it back on the counter, bloody tickets still in place. Lexi had barely regained her feet before he was also at Vision Man’s side. Zach turned to Helen, glaring at her. His pale green eyes stood out in stark contrast against his brown skin, almost looking as if they were lit from within. “What did you do to Drake?”
Helen held Miss Mabel a little tighter, turning her toward the exit. They were getting out of here as fast as possible. “Nothing. He was the one attacking me.”
“He didn’t do anything more than try to talk to you. You were the one who freaked out. What did you do to him?” he demanded.
Vision Man—Drake, they’d called him—was still convulsing on the floor, his body bowing in a powerful arc. He’d been screaming a moment ago, but now he made these horrible choking sounds, as though he couldn’t breathe. The veins in his neck and temples stood out and something odd was happening to the shimmery choker he wore. The colors in it were seething, swirling in a mix of reds, oranges, and yellows. Thin tendrils of smoke drifted up from the necklace and a matching ring on his left hand. Helen could smell the scent of burning flesh—just like in her vision.
The man who had held Miss Mabel checked his watch, his expression grim. “Three minutes until sunset. Logan isn’t going to make it in time to save him.”
Zach stood up and took a step toward Helen. Lexi had recovered her mobility and found a giant knife somewhere behind the counter. And she held it like she knew what she was doing.
Could this night get any weirder?
Zach must have seen Lexi moving toward him, because he turned and pointed a thick finger in her direction. “Stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t. They’re my friends.”
“And Drake is mine.” Zach turned to Helen. “Let the old woman go and come here.” It wasn’t a request and Helen was certain that if she didn’t do as he said, someone was going to get hurt when he made her do it, probably Miss Mabel.
This was it. Helen was fairly certain that she’d reached the end of the line. She wasn’t about to take Miss Mabel with her, so she settled the frail woman down on a seat and gave her what she hoped was a brave smile.
Miss Mabel clutched Helen’s arm with weak, gnarled fingers. “Don’t go, honey.”
“I’ll be fine,” she lied. Helen turned back toward Zach and took a step forward.
The big guy was holding Drake down so he didn’t hurt himself thrashing around, but it didn’t look like an easy job. Drake was strong—his arms and legs thick with muscle. She could see all that strength tighten his body against the convulsions. The big guy took an elbow in the stomach for his effort, letting out a pained grunt. Zach had a hold on Drake’s legs, but he didn’t take his eyes off Helen. She was sure that if she didn’t keep moving toward him he’d come for her.
Man, she didn’t want to be here right now. She didn’t want to be in the middle of this mess, completely confused as to what was happening and totally freaked out to be getting closer to a man who made her feel better with an almost touch than all the real touches from all the other men in her life put together.
“He’s going to be fine,” she told them, taking another half step forward.
“How do you know?” asked Zach.
Great. Now she’d gone and backed herself in a corner. She couldn’t exactly tell them that she knew he’d be fine because he had to live long enough to watch her die. “I just do.”
Another half step and she was close enough that Zach reached out his long arm and grabbed her by the wrist. “Whatever you did, undo it.”