The Alpha's Search (The Craven Trilogy, #1) (3 page)

I had two days holiday owing to me, so I booked the next couple of days off. If Craven came back to the shop he'd have to make do with Candice or Sarah.

On the way home after work, I stopped off at the corner shop, and treated myself to chocolate and crisps. When I got back to the flat, I didn't mention anything about the day's events to Alison. She'd have quizzed me about it all night. I just wanted to shut myself away in my bedroom with Coke, chocolate, crisps and a good book. I was almost half way through 'Fated', and loving every minute of it, even though Alison had done her best to spoil it for me. She mocked me at every opportunity: '
What on earth do you see in werewolves?
'

Good as the book was—it wasn't long before I began to nod off. A couple of times, I woke myself up when the book slipped out of my hand. Eventually, I must have drifted off to sleep.

I lifted the flaming torch from its cradle, and held it out in front of me. The light from the flames lit up the tunnel. There was a fork ahead. Which way? Left? Right? I listened, but there were no sounds. I took the left fork. A breeze blew along the tunnel—I was terrified the flame might be extinguished. A sound—a voice? I stood still and listened. The voice came again—it sounded distant—the words barely audible. I edged forward towards a bend in the tunnel. The voice again. This time I caught a word: 'Lewis' or was it 'Louise'? I couldn't be sure. The voice was getting louder now. Someone was coming towards me. Frozen to the spot, I waited. I heard the word again: 'Louise'. Whoever it was, was only a few metres away now. I still had time to turn and run away. A strong gust of wind rushed through the tunnel. The flame was extinguished, and I was plunged into darkness. My heart was racing. 'Louise'. The voice was almost upon me. I stared into the darkness. Waiting—what else could I do?

Two spots of light moving towards me. Eyes.

The torch re-ignited. In front of me was a figure? A man? It was a face I recognised.

“Jeez!” I sat up in bed. My heart felt as though it was about to burst out of my chest. Another damn nightmare! This one had been a little different. It had been the first time I'd seen the occupant of the cave. Until now, I'd only ever seen his eyes. What's more, I'd recognised him—it was Craven.

I needed a drink—something stronger than Coke.

“Finished your book?” Alison asked without looking up from the TV.

I didn't recognise the programme she was watching, but I'd have bet good money it was some reality rubbish. She loved those stupid things. And she had the nerve to criticise my books!

“Not yet. I fell asleep.”

“It's that riveting eh?”

“I had the same nightmare.”

“Are you okay?” She turned to face me.

“Yeah—it's only a dream. But...”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. You have to tell me now.”

I sat on the arm of the sofa. “You remember the guy from Destiny that I told you about?”

“The guy who rescued you?”

“Yeah. His name is Craven.”

“Is that his first name?”

“No. Craven's his last name. I don't know his first name. He came in the shop again today.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“That doesn't matter. What matters is that he was in my dream. He was the person in the cave.”

Alison shrugged. “Is that it? I thought this was going to be some big revelation.”

“But... He was in my dream.”

“Hardly a surprise. He saves you from those two thugs. Then he comes into the shop. You've got him on the brain. Do you fancy him?”

I hesitated a moment too long.

“You do.”

“I hardly know him.”

“But you'd like to get to know him. It's written all over your face.”

“That's rubbish.” I could feel my cheeks redden. “I need a glass of wine.”

“Whoops.” Alison looked sheepish.

“What?”

“I kinda finished it off.”

“Kinda? All of it?”

“Sorry.”

“Great! Thanks a bunch.”

Back in my bedroom, I thought about what Alison had said. She was right. There was little wonder Craven was kicking around inside my head given the events of the last few days.

My mind went back to the dream. Who was Louise, and why had Craven called her name?

*********

I
'd given Alison strict instructions not to wake me the next morning. What was the point of having a day off work if I couldn't have a lie-in? Even so, I was gobsmacked when I checked my phone and found it was 11.30am. That was one morning I was never going to get back. Alison's dirty breakfast pots were still in the sink—they could whistle. The lazy mare always expected me to clean up after her.

I'd just made myself a coffee when there was a knock at the door. Whatever they were selling, I didn't want any, so I ignored it. Another knock—they weren't going to give up. I nipped into my bedroom and threw on a dressing gown.

“Who is it?” I called through the closed door.

“Parcel for Alison Groves,” a male voice said.

“Leave it there please.”

“I need a signature.”

“Alison isn't in.”

“You can sign for it.”

Alison was always ordering clothes online. She thought nothing of ordering five dresses, and sending four back. She'd even been known to wear one for a night out, and then to return it for a refund. I didn't know how she had the front. She'd kill me if I didn't take the parcel in.

“Just a minute.” I cracked the door open.

“Hello there,” the man said. He had a box-shaped parcel in his arms.

“Hi.” I waited for him to pass me the electronic
thingamajig
for me to sign, but he just stood there. “You said you wanted me to sign?” I said.

“Could I bring this in? It's quite heavy.”

I was about to wave him in when it occurred to me that he wasn't wearing a uniform. Instead, he wore an immaculate black suit. Tall, middle-aged with grey hair, the man looked as though he should have been working at an undertakers. I'm not sure why, but alarm bells were ringing. What if he was a mad axe murderer?

“Sorry. You can't come in.” I glanced both ways down the corridor—hoping I might see one of the neighbours. There was no one in sight. “I'll sign for it, but you'll have to leave the parcel there.”

“I'm not supposed to do that. If I could just step inside...?”

“No.” I closed the door a little. If he made a move, I'd slam it shut on his face.

He forced a smile, but I could see the anger in his eyes. “I'll come back another time,” he said, and was gone before I could say anything else.

Alison was not going to be best pleased, but I didn't care. I was glad to see the back of weirdy mcweird.

I checked the window. There was no sign of a delivery van in the car parking spaces in front of our block, but it was always possible he'd parked around the back. I was just about to go to the back window when I spotted him. He no longer had the parcel. Had someone else agreed to sign for it? I couldn't imagine who else would. Just then, he stopped and glanced up at my window, so I ducked out of sight. The man gave me a serious case of the creeps. After a few seconds, I risked another look. He was climbing into the driver's seat of a black Jag. What kind of delivery service provided their drivers with Jags? 

“Shit!” I almost jumped out of my skin when the phone in my pocket rang and vibrated.

Caller display didn't show a name—just a number I didn't recognise.

“Hello?” I was ready to give a mouthful to anyone asking if I'd considered changing my mobile service provider.

“Jackie?”

My heart sank.

“Michael? I didn't recognise your number.”

“I've changed contracts. Got myself a new IPhone. Great offer—couldn't resist.”

“That's nice.” I tried, but failed, to sound like I gave a shit.

“I called in the shop, but you weren't there.”

“That's cos I'm here,” I said. How rude did I have to be before he got the message?

“Yeah.” He laughed his stupid laugh. It was one of the things I'd grown to hate about him—trust me, there were many others.

Michael had been a mistake. I blamed Candice. In a moment of weakness I'd allowed her to talk me into going on a blind date. I still hadn't forgiven her.

“I wondered if you might like to go out for a drink tonight?” he said. “Or tomorrow, if you're busy.”

“I don't think that would be a good idea,” I said.

“Oh” I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I really thought he'd got the message the last time he'd contacted me. I realised now that
subtle
wasn't going to cut it.

“I'm sorry, Michael. You and I—it's not going to work out.”

“But...”

“I'd prefer it if you didn't contact me again.”

“Oh?”

“Sorry. Bye.” I ended the call and wondered when I'd become such a bitch. Still, what was it they said? Cruel to be kind?

The phone rang again. Okay—the gloves were off now. I was going to have to be even more blunt. “Michael. I told you I didn't want you to call me again. Now, fuck off!”

“Hello.” The voice wasn't Michael's.

I slumped onto the sofa. It took me a few moments to compose myself. “Mr Craven?”

“You recognise my voice.”

“How did you get my number? Why are you calling my personal mobile?”

“I apologise for the intrusion, but it's essential I meet with you as soon as possible.”

“I'm not working today. I have a couple of day’s holiday. If you call into the shop, I'm sure one of the other staff will be able to help...”

“This is a personal matter.”

“I'm sorry. I can't meet with you. I have to hang up now.”

“Wait. Do you know the name Louise?”

I tried to speak, but words had deserted me. This made no sense. How could he know about the name in my dream? How had he found my number? My breathing was laboured, and I felt a little light-headed.

“Sorry,” I eventually managed to say. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

My finger was hovering over the 'End call' button.

“I think you do, Louise.”

“Why did you call me that?”

“Can we meet?”

“I asked why you called me Louise! Tell me!”

“I will. I promise to explain everything, but not on the phone. Can I come around...?”

“No! Don't come here or I'll call the police.”

“Okay. Sorry. Can we meet somewhere more public? A coffee shop maybe?”

I hesitated. I had to know how he knew about my dreams.

“Do you know The Bean Mill? It's just off the high street.”

“I'll find it. When?”

“One o' clock.”

“Okay...”

I hung up.

––––––––

M
y hands were trembling. What was happening? Who was Craven, and what did he want with me? He'd called me Louise—what was that all about? Maybe he'd mistaken me for someone else. Perhaps I had a doppelganger out there somewhere. That must be it. But that didn't explain why he'd been in my dreams or why I'd heard the name Louise in my dreams. There was another more obvious explanation—one which I was doing my best to ignore. What if he did actually know me? What if he'd known me from
before
?

Immediately after my
incident
, I'd almost driven myself insane—trying to remember who I was. The doctors had told me that my memory might return, but it could take months, years, and may never come back at all. Over the years, I'd come to accept it never would. My '
before
' life had gone for good. I'd come to realise that I had to make the most of now or I'd spend my whole time looking back—wondering. But maybe, just maybe, Craven did know me. If he did then I owed it to myself to talk to him. Besides, he'd been following me for days—at work and at Destiny. He wasn't about to let it go.

The door opened—scaring me half to death.

“I told them at work that I was feeling ill,” Alison said.

“You don't look ill. Are you?”

“Course not.” She grinned. “Just bored out of my tiny skull. Anyway, why should I have to work when you're skiving?”

“I'm not skiving. I'm on holiday.”

“Same difference. I thought we could do some serious shopping.”

“I can't.”

“Course you can—grab your bag. We'll go for a drink first.”

“I can't. I'm meeting someone.”

“Who? Have you gone and got yourself a fella?”

“No.”

“You have! You sly cow. Why didn't you tell me? You've not got back with that loser Michael have you?”

Alison had never liked him.

“No. It's not Michael.”

“Who then? You may as well tell me or I'll follow you and find out.”

I knew she would.

“Craven.”

“What? The guy who's been stalking you?”

“He hasn't been stalking me—not exactly.”

“Why are you meeting him?”

“He called me. We're just having coffee.”

“He could be a serial killer.”

“Don't be daft. Anyway, there'll be plenty of people around. We're meeting in Bean Mill.”

As soon as I'd said it, I regretted it.

“Bean Mill? Hmmm.” Alison had a stupid grin on her face.

“No. Definitely not!” I shook my head. “No, no, no!”

“What?”

“You can't come.”

“It'll be safer if I keep an eye on you. I'll be discreet.”

“You? Discreet?” I snorted. “Some chance.”

“Hey, I can do discreet. I'll keep my distance and observe. If he tries any funny business, I'll Mace his arse. Or his eyes. Probably his eyes would be best.”

Arguing with Alison would be pointless, and anyway, I liked the idea that someone would have my back.

“Is he in there?” Alison had her nose pressed against the large front window of Bean Mill.

“Is this is your idea of discreet?” I pulled her away, and then, as casually as I could, I glanced inside.

“He's over there.”

“Where?”

“Over there—near the loo. You wait here until I'm at his table.”

“Okay.”

“Don't sit too close to us.”

“Okay! Okay! Go! Go! Before he gets fed up of waiting.”

Craven already had a drink, so I stopped at the counter and ordered myself a Latte. While I was waiting to be served, I glanced over my shoulder to find him staring straight at me.