Halfling (Black Petals Book 1) (2 page)

“I don’t know. My mom would never tell me,” I answer through a shaky voice.

Blayk approaches me swiftly and lifts my hand up to his face. He pulls off my ring and looks it over while squatting in front of me. “It says
Darius Ranchiller
inside the ring.”

“Are you sure that this was his?” Landon asks after a moment, nodding to the ring in Blayk’s hand. Confusion fills both of their gazes.

I nod hastily. “That’s what my mom told me.”

“Impossible,” Landon breathes while looking to Blayk. He then moves his gaze back to me. “I wouldn’t be wearing that ring around in public, darling. It could get you in an
awful lot
of trouble.”

“Do you know the guy who goes by the name written in this ring?” Blayk asks grimly. He smiles at me darkly, causing me to cringe.

“No, I assumed that the name on the inside was the maker of the ring. The company who made it,” I spit quickly. I don’t know anything about jewelry.

“We need to let her go,” Landon mutters to his brother. “She’s innocent. Just a little, human girl.”

A little, human girl? What? What a weirdo. I am a full grown woman. I’m an adult. Something about him using the word ‘
human
’ to describe me, makes me look at Landon, to his funky contacts. Are these two some of those vampire fanatic weirdos? The people who pretend to be vampires and drink actual blood? I did a study on them in high school during the big vampire surge in pop culture a few years ago. Not cool. Creepy. Very creepy. If that is what they are trying to pull off,
why me
?

Blayk grabs my hand and presses the ring into my palm gently.

“What if I don’t want to let her go?” Blayk argues, a sickening grin playing at his lips.

“You owe me for bailing you out last weekend. This is what I want in return,” Landon persuades, glancing between Blayk and me.

I take a deep breath before instinctually rambling, “I promise I won’t tell a soul. I won’t go to the cops or anything, I swear.”

“See?” Landon purrs and runs his hand across his hairy chin as if it’s itchy.

“Not good enough. Father will know we’re hiding something, and he’ll get it out of us like he always does. Then she’ll be dead anyways. I honestly don’t care if she lives or dies she’s just a-”

Landon cuts his brother off. “
Blayk
! She knows nothing. I’m getting her out of here
now
. You owe me.”

Blayk runs the palm of his hand across the back of his neck and sighs deeply. “Fine, go, but I’m not keeping anything from him when he asks me what I’m not telling him. That’s not part of this deal.”

Landon and Blayk make eye contact for a long moment, before Landon grabs his wallet and car keys from the half table next to the door. “Fine,” he mutters in a low grumble. “You’re just like our father, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re as cold as he is.” Then Landon looks to me and motions with his free hand for me to stand. I’m trembling so intensely that I don’t know if I can.

Finally, after seeing that I’m not able to get up on my own, he grabs my hand and pulls me up in one swift movement. Wow, he’s strong. I test my legs before letting go of him.

“What’s your name?” Landon asks me, a hint of worry in his gaze.

“Megan,” I say in a quiet squeak. I’m not even sure if he’s heard me. Seriously, what are the chances that I get kidnapped by crazies?

“Alright, Megan, you’re coming with me.” Landon looks to me apologetically and nods to the door.

“Hell if I am!” I shout without even meaning to. Call it adrenalin kicking into gear, instincts or both. Remind me again, why I didn’t take that self-defense class that was offered at my workplace last week.

Blayk rolls his eyes at me, as if I’m some child throwing a tantrum, and walks into the other room.

“It’ll make it a lot easier for you, if you listen to everything that I say. Now follow me unless you want to get yourself killed,” Landon suggests grimly and opens the front door. And here I thought that Blayk seemed like such a normal guy in the car on the way here. Now though, I’m aware that he was merely acting, because he saw my father’s ring and thought I was someone else or something.

I follow Landon outside, not because I want to, but because I have no choice. First of all, I’m not staying in the house with Blayk, he’s psychotic. Not that Landon isn’t, but he does seem to be the least psychotic of the two. Secondly, if I’m outside, maybe I can make a run for it or get a neighbors attention.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Landon warns, “Don’t try to run or scream. If you do, I’ll
make
you come with me, and you won’t like that.”

I cringe. His tone is menacing. I have to do
something
. I’m not going to get into a car with another complete stranger. I’ve been there, and look how that turned out.

I follow Landon across the front lawn to another beautiful car parked in front of Blayk’s. He opens the passenger door for me. I hesitate understandably. I
get into the passenger side and he shuts the door for me. Once Landon is about to take his seat on the driver’s side, I throw my door back open and spring out of the vehicle.

I sprint down the sidewalk towards the nearest house. It’s another huge mansion made of brick. I use the elaborate knocker on the door and begin screaming. I’m half surprised that Landon doesn’t catch up to me right away, I’m not the fastest runner in all truthfulness. Maybe he doesn’t want to make a scene and get caught. When no one answers immediately, I go at the knocker again and push the doorbell repeatedly.

A hand wraps around my wrist tightly and yanks me back. I gasp.
Shit
. I turn to face Landon, who still looks at me apologetically, or maybe it’s pity that I see in his expression, I’m not sure.

“
Come with me
,” he says in a pleading tone.

The front door of the mansion finally swings open, and I nearly burst into tears when Blayk stares back at me through the doorway. Did I somehow manage to run to the wrong house? I look to my left and see that
no
, this
is
the neighbor’s house. What the hell?!

“Keep a handle on your
pet
,” Blayk sneers, before slamming the door in our faces.

Landon grabs my wrist a little harsher and leads me back to his bright yellow car. He shoves me inside and locks the door while he walks around the car to his side. How did that just happen? I know I ran to the right house. So many questions invade my mind, giving me a headache and making me want to scream.

“That was a nice try. Running, I mean. It would’ve worked if all six of the homes in this neighborhood weren’t adjoined by tunnels. We own all six,” Landon tells me, as if trying to keep my sanity intact.

I look around the gated neighborhood. This isn’t a rich subdivision of sorts, but a gated home fixed to look like a subdivision. I clench my teeth. What in the hell are the chances? How do two twenty something year olds own so much property? How do they have so much money? Drugs. It has to be drugs. It must be a gang.

“Are you chilly?” He asks, eyeing me carefully. I realize that I’m hugging myself, but it’s not because I’m cold, but rather, because I’m scared, and it comforts me.

I shake my head.

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to save your life. You have no idea what you just walked into,” he mutters under his breath and begins driving.

“It’s drugs, isn’t it?” I wonder out loud.

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid it’s far worse than that.”

What could be worse than drugs? He sees my look of confusion and answers, “You don’t want to know, trust me. Do you have anywhere that you can stay? Outside of Toronto, I mean. Preferably, outside of Ontario.”

I shake my head.

He nods and appears to be thinking.

“Just take me home, I promise I won’t say a word to anyone,” I beg. This really can’t be happening. I must have the worst luck in the world. Leave it to me to get wrapped up in a mess like this. It’s just my luck. My mother always told me growing up that I was unlucky and all the terrible stuff that happened to her after my birth, was all because of me, maybe she was right and I am bad luck.

Landon grips the steering wheel tighter. “I can’t. You can’t stay in Toronto. There are people here who will track you down and kill you.”

“How? They don’t even know me. They don’t have any connection to me at all!” I argue sternly.

He grimaces. “I can’t tell you all that you need to know to understand this situation. I can only warn you about what
will
happen. You
will
be hunted down and killed, Megan. That is a promise.”

The way he says these words is harsh. I don’t understand how what he says is possible. He’s sure that I will be killed that much is clear, but I don’t think he’s thought this through entirely.
How
will they find me? They don’t even have my last name.

“Take me back to the community centre, where I left my car parked. I won’t tell anyone about you or Blayk, and you don’t tell anyone about me. If people somehow magically come after me, then that’s my fault for not listening to you,” I suggest.

He sighs and turns the music completely off. I know he’s done arguing with me. He doesn’t seem to have the energy or will to continue arguing about this. It’s as if he doesn’t care enough to continue with me. “Okay. If that’s what you want, but I think you’re making a mistake. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I give him the address of the community centre gratefully. Maybe I will survive this day after all.

“You really should get rid of that ring, Megan. It’s dangerous to have in your possession,” Landon says after a moment of silence. I glance down at it in my palm. He’s not lying. This ring has already gotten me into more trouble than it’s worth. I roll down the window, and I am about to throw it out, when he grabs my wrist to stop me. “Don’t. If you throw it out, someone else could pick it up. Give it to me, and I’ll take care of it.”

I give the ring one last look before dropping it into his cup holder and rolling the window back up. “What’s so special about it anyway?”

He hesitates, as if trying to come up with an appropriate way to word his answer. “Rings like this one belong to a group of people who
kill
a certain group of others I guess you could say.” So I was right, it’s a gang related ring. Lovely. Good to know I’ve been wearing that since it fit my finger. How could my mom not have known my dad was part of a gang? Then again, my mom doesn’t know much. I can’t believe I’ve been wearing a murderer ring my whole life.

We pull into the community centre parking lot, and Landon unlocks the doors. “Good luck.” He says this like he knows the words will be useless.

I nod before exiting the car and sprinting to my own car, jumping in and locking the doors as quickly as I can. So much for city clean up. What a morning. I wait until his car is out of sight, before I exit the parking lot and head home. I guess Madison Street West will have to stay uncleaned. I hold back tears the whole way home and drive in all sorts of directions in case he’s following me.

Once I get home, I break down into tears. I close all of the blinds and lock all of the windows and doors. Call me paranoid, but I
am
worried about Landon’s warning. Remembering that I told Blayk I work with seniors, I rashly call and quit my job, not wanting to risk him finding me at work.

What if I do go to the cops? Can’t they protect me somehow? Can they put me in witness protection? I promised I wouldn’t, but I only promised because I thought it would save my life.

Witness protection?
Really, Megan? No, they wouldn’t do that. You aren’t even scratched. You have no proof of even being taken.

Calm down, no one is coming after you, you’re over reacting. At least that’s what I tell myself. I’m probably just shaken up, right? I walk into the bathroom and open up the medicine cupboard. I grab some cold medicine that has drowsy listed as a side effect and pop three into my mouth. I lean down and take a sip of water from the tap to wash them down. I need to sleep ever so badly right now.

While I’m waiting for them to kick in, I decide to jump into the shower. I don’t realize how terrible of an idea this is, until I’m already inside. How am I supposed to hear someone break into my house with the water running? I throw shampoo into my hair and lather it intensely, then I wash it out. When I close my eyes to keep soap from getting into them, my mind goes into panic mode, suddenly I’m opening my eyes expecting to see someone standing in my bathroom ready to kill me. Luckily, I manage to evade the soap. I’m left gasping for breath in the shower. I’m absolutely paranoid like a psycho, I know that.

I don’t have anyone to call. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m stuck here in this house, with my own thoughts. Every noise, no matter how little, makes me flinch for the rest of the evening. The pills do nothing to help me sleep, but eventually I do manage to get some shut eye. I sleep the rest of the day and all night.

When morning rolls around, I am startled awake by the sound of my neighbor’s dog barking. It takes me a moment to remember the events of the day before.