Changing Beauty (Book 2) (The Deadly Beauties Live On) (14 page)

Chapter 13

THAD

“They definitely think she’s the anointed, but obviously she’s pretty fucking human. Her nails are bleeding from trying to claw her way to freedom,” Gage says quietly as I shut the door behind me. “The fact that she fought him and didn’t make a dent proves she’s not our werewolf/witch either. She could have shredded him if she was.”

Obviously he overheard what Roslyn just shared with me. I don’t want to believe she’s fully human, yet unable to be changed. But I’m relieved as fuck that she’s not the werewolf/witch. Then again, I never believed for a moment that she was.

“I thought Reese already confirmed it wasn’t her. Didn’t you send him a pic?” Dice drawls, kicking back on my couch with Karma on his lap.

“He said it wasn’t her. Didn’t know if we could trust Reese or not with that,” Gage points out. “Now about her being anointed? I don’t know. I’ve read some books about how one has to keep living in order for the weapons to keep their power. The weapons still have power—we tested them this morning—so that means another is alive. Roslyn is immune to being changed. I don’t know how their bloodlines work, but it’d make sense if they were immune to bitten fey.”

No. Hell fucking no. No way is she an anointed.

“Wendy was strong,” I remind him. “She took me on, and I took an ass-kicking. Albeit she caught me by surprise, but she was still hella strong. Roslyn isn’t.”

He frowns as though that’s bad news. I’m relieved to think of it.

“Maybe they have to be activated. There was one book that said something about needing to see a fey in changed form before they get their powers. Wendy had that amulet that enabled her to see through our human façade. I’ve been reading her books all night long.”

Not wanting to let them continue thinking Roslyn is a fucking fey slayer, I decide to shift the subject.

“Feel like going hunting?” I ask him.

“For who?” Ella asks, even though I can tell she already knows.

I just stare at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

“I think he’s the one who saved me,” she says on a sigh. “I don’t want him killed. Maybe he has a reason for attacking—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” I interrupt, glaring at her now.

She immediately slinks back, forgetting that she’s the bigger threat here. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just feel like I owe him the chance to explain himself.”

Karma sits up, apparently confused by something.

“You said you saw them first when you were in the woods? He with a girl?” Her question seems directed at Gage, so I let him answer.

“Yeah. Both of them were in masks. His tats on his hands were the same. I remember them—slave marks.”

So we freed this son of a bitch. Great. It seems we did more harm than good when we tried to fucking save everyone stuck in the slave rings.

“And this is the same guy you think saved you?” Karma asks Ella. “The same guy you thought was living with Kya?”

“Your sister?” Dice asks as Ella’s eyes widen in realization.

So the girl in the woods was Karma’s sister. Fucking perfect. The girl is so twisted up from what they did to her in the rings that she won’t even have anything to do with her twin sister.

“Get that look out of your eyes,” Karma growls at me. “She’s my sister. If they’re after her, there’s a reason. Then again, my sister might not even know what’s going on with this freak.”

I don’t give a fuck whose sister she is if she’s after Roslyn.

“Remember that you’re the one who wanted the anointed killed,” Dice reminds me.

“Your girlfriend said she was human.”

“I don’t know how to look for an anointed. They are technically human,” Karma says, still glaring at me.

“Fuck this,” I grumble, walking over to Ella. “Stay here. Gage has put a spell on my house. I’m dark and he’s dark, so it’ll keep this place safe. Keep her safe until I get back.”

Ella starts to speak, but then she sighs in defeat. She knows Kane is on his way, and he’d agree with me if I called him right now. She doesn’t need to be anywhere around this guy if she’s feeling some sort of loyalty to the prick.

***

ROSLYN

I haven’t slept, but I have heard a lot of weird conversations through the door, despite the fact they’ve been trying to keep their voices down. Most of it didn’t make sense, but I did hear Thad tell someone to keep me safe.

I also heard something about killing the anointed one? The hell are they into? And why are they talking about this anointed one like it’s me?

They’re bounty hunters, but Thad never told me how dark that job gets. He also neglected to tell me that his friends don’t seem to particularly like me very well, based on their cryptic conversations.

I’ve waited in his room for hours after quietly locking the door. The sun is close to setting, and I know someone is in the next room. That person hasn’t made a sound other than flipping channels on the TV.

I know Thad told them to keep me safe, but I don’t feel safe. At all.

Quietly, I slip out of his window, using the same stealth I used when I was a child who was running away from a neglectful home. I might have only faced one physically abusive foster father, but there are plenty other ways to abuse someone to the point they run.

My silence pays off. The TV is loud enough to mask the slight crunch my feet made when they impact the ground. I halt immediately when I hear the TV mute, as though that person somehow did hear that.

I don’t move; in fact, I barely breathe. Apparently they feel satisfied that it was nothing, because they turn the volume back up.

My eyes move to my house, and an internal war wages. I have nowhere to go but home, but Thad’s friends know where I live.

I trust Thad, even though he sounds batshit crazy. However, I don’t trust his even crazier friends. Not to mention some freak already broke into my house once.

Instead of going to the door, I move to the window of my room, raising it ever so slightly so that I can reach in and grab my purse off the small table I have wedged against the windowsill.

Note to self: Don’t just leave your purse so accessible to thieves.

After securing it to me, I walk quickly around the side to where Jenny’s car is in the driveway. I know she’s going to get pissed, but I don’t care. She owes me three-months’ worth of utilities, and that’s all she has to pay for rent.

Her keys are predictably in the ignition, because we’re apparently too trusting with all of our valuables. Hell, we barely even lock the door.

I won’t be that stupid again. I’ve gotten lax since my running days are behind me. Looks like I’m about to be running again.

Deciding I’m not ballsy enough to pull out right in front of Thad’s house, I go the opposite direction, heading toward Edgebrook.

After driving for a solid twenty minutes, I find myself beside the lake on one side, and covered by woods on the other. This stretch of highway is nothing but the lake and the woods until the lake veers and it turns into just woods on either side.

It’s creepy as hell, considering I’m officially in hiding until… Until… Hell, I don’t know how long.

What did Thad mean when he said something about me being human? What the fucking else could I be? And why was someone saying something about hashtag and Buffy while leaving?

Unbidden, Wendy’s book of freaky pictures crosses my mind, and I shudder. No way am I going there. I’m not crazy enough to believe the two coincide.

Just as I reach the end of the lake on my right, I’m swallowed up by the woods. Hella creepy indeed.

The shadows dance as the bright, full moon blares down, catching small slithers where the trees aren’t fully blocking its light. The eerie sounds of the wind howling through the woods is also less than comforting, and I’m forced to endure the sounds because Jenny’s stereo has been screwed up for months.

My heart thuds in my ears when I hear a sound that has my stomach twisting in nervous knots. Like every damn horror movie ever freaking created, the car starts sputtering until it completely stalls out in the middle of the road.

The dark, creepy, scary, no-house-in-sight road. And my cell phone is not in my purse. Of course it isn’t. Why would it be? That would be way too easy. Stupid thing probably wouldn’t have a signal out here in the middle of nowhere anyway.

Deciding not to meet up with Jason or Freddy, I stay my ass in the car and wide awake. In the movies, the girl always gets out of the car, and a hand clamps down on her ankle. Or, like an idiot, she runs into the thick of the forest. She’s usually screaming or crying or begging the killer not to kill her.

Nope. My ass is staying planted in the fucking car until someone comes by. And I’m keeping the doors locked while they work on the car outside. I’ll even be holding…

Shit. What’s in here to hit someone with?

Searching Jenny’s car, I find lipstick, perfume, and… gum. That’s so not helpful.

Just as I give up my search, something flickers and catches my eyes. I look up just in time to see something happening. Black fuzzy dots are appearing in rapid motion until there’s suddenly a body beside me. A fucking man in a motherfucking mask.

I’m dreaming and Freddy is here.

“Car problems?” the hallucination or dream killer asks candidly, looking all too relaxed in the passenger seat.

My entire body feels bone-stiff, and my fingers actually curl involuntarily, forming a white-knuckle grip on the perfume bottle and lipstick tube. A scream tries to breach my throat, but it painfully clings to my lungs, refusing to escape and share the air with this… I don’t know what this is.

My eyes are wide and unblinking as I stare into the freakiest eyes I’ve ever seen.

One second I swore they were yellow, and the next they seemed blue. The black mask is covering his entire face, but I almost feel his sick, sadistic grin.

In my dreams, I always fight as hard as I can, but it feels like I can never punch, kick, or run with all my strength.

I hope this time is different.

“Show me your true colors.” He whispers the words so low that I can barely hear them, and I edge back against the locked door, making it look like my elbow clumsily hits the unlock button.

Then, I do something stupid. I spray the son of a bitch in the face with perfume, only to hear him laughing as I dive out of the car, slamming into the unforgiving pavement on my back.

“I know you can do better than that,” he tsks. “Where are your marks?”

My freaking what?

I hear his door opening, and I do something stupid again. After heaving myself back up to my feet, I run… into the woods… whimpering, squealing, and making a whole hell of a lot of racket.

It’s too dark to see in here, and I’m just barely making out the shape of a tree before I crash into it. Limbs slap me in the face, and I cry out when my ankle twists. Stupid freaking sandals. Stupid freaking dress that I never took off.

Stupid. Freaking. Impossible. Night.

Limping slows me down, but I keep running, feeling the heat of a dark gaze on my back.

“Show me, Roslyn,” the guy’s voice says right next to my ear.

I scream, but he’s not beside me when I spin around.

“Show me your true colors,” he says from behind me.

Spinning around, I throw the tube of lipstick that I’ve apparently been holding, but all it slices through is vacant air.

“Let’s see the real you,” he says from behind me again, forcing me to spin once more.

Nothing. There’s nothing around me.

Either he’s damn good at projecting his voice, or he really is a phantom and I didn’t imagine that shit in the car.

This cannot be happening.

“Break loose. You’re not getting out of here unless you fight,” his voice says, now sounding like it’s coming in from several different angles, forcing me to spin and spin until I’m almost dizzy.

Suddenly, those same dots appear that I saw in the car, and a scream actually bubbles out of me as the freak appears right in front of my eyes. One of his hands goes to my throat, lifting me off the ground until I’m eye-level with him.

“You know you want to fight me,” he whispers.

I grip his wrist, trying to ease the choking hold on my throat, but it’s useless. My hands flail as I suck in small spurts of labored air, desperately trying to get more. I connect with his mask and drag it off, wishing I never had.

The second the mask is gone, a gasp dies on my tongue, unable to fully form for lack of oxygen. His inky black hair falls over his forehead, and underneath his hair somewhere, a scar starts, sliding down over the middle of his eye, stopping before touching the actual eye, and starting again just under it. It runs all the way down to his chin.

That’s all I can see before he shoves me against the tree, and my vision starts dimming, blurring as I lose the fight to breathe.

“I have a friend who will be very pissed if you kill her.” A girl’s voice finds my ears just as the hand on my throat disappears.