Page 26 of Claimed by the Fallen
I stand and stare at him. “W-what are you doing in my house?”How do you know where Ilive?
“Checking on you, ofcourse.”
I don’t understand. I shake my head, trying to clear my muddled mind. Too much is happening. I struggle to believe I am not caught in another horrificnightmare.
The thought Adrian might be a part of whatever crazed scheme Mr. Cohen and his brother are trying to complete hits me. His position blocks my only escape from the room. My anxietyspikes.
From my right, I hear angry words fly across the room, “What in God’s name are you doinghere?”
My neck snaps toward Gabe. He and Mr. Cohen wear matching masks of anger. I’m slightly relieved to realize their hate-filled eyes are only trained on the blondman.
So much for them being friends, Iguess.
Adrian tucks his hands into his pockets. He is the epitome of nonchalance as he says, “I could ask you the same question. What are you doing with mybashert?”
“Yourbashert?” Gabegrowls.
I don’t recognize the unfamiliar word. It sounds like “baw-shirt”, and I’m pretty sure it isn’tEnglish.
I look between the men, confused as to why they are so on edge. Mr. Cohen hasn’t said anything, but he looks just as tense as his brother. They don’t like Adrian. And based on Adrian’s expression, he doesn’t like them either. I have the feeling I’m caught in the middle of a feud—one I cannot even begin tounderstand.
“Yes,” Adrian replies. His voice takes on a lethal edge. “Mybashert.”
“She is not yours,” Mr. Cohen finallyspeaks.
I register they are talking about me, and dread fills my stomach. “What aboutme?”
I’mignored.
“I assure you, gentlemen, she is.” Adrian resumes his air of indifference, waving a dismissive hand. “You may leave and resume your boy-scout routine of saving fallen orphan offspring from themselves. Now that I am here, I shall oversee hertransformation.”
Fallenorphans?
Savingthem?
Transformation?
My heart pounds in my chest. I need to get out of here. I don’t want any part in whatever ishappening.
Gabe steps towards Adrian. “You won’t touchher.”
My eyes zip between the men. I see Adrian’s lips lift into an amused, yet malicious, smirk. The fingers tucked in his pocket are raised towards me. Before he can touch me, Adrian is tackled byGabe.
All I see is a streak of black hair before their two forms crash into my mother’s antique cabinet. Expensive figurines crash on the hardwood floor. I release a shout and jump back, but Gabe launched his attack away from me. There is a good three feet between me and the grapplingmen.
Mr. Cohen joins the fray. He leaps over the coffee table effortlessly. He tries to separate his brother from Adrian. Though, I notice he gives the latter unnecessary shoves in theprocess.
I’m only shocked for a moment before I snap out of it. Seeing my opportunity for escape, I take it. I tuck my chin to my chest and make a break for the open entryway. Adrian is on his back with Gabe gripping his shirt, trying to punch him in the jaw. Mr. Cohen pushes his brother’s shoulder, preventing him from making contact. None of them notice myescape.
My breathing is ragged as I turn the metal bolt and fling open the front door. I run into the front yard, not daring to risk looking back. I need to get as far away from my house as fast as Ican.
I race down the driveway and turn towards my nearest neighbor’s house. Mrs. Hall is a widow who lives alone, but she’s friendly. She will let me in her house. All I need is to get to a phone so I can call the police. Then, they can take care of the three brawling men who broke into myhouse.
I am moments away from reaching Mrs. Hall’s front door when it hits me—thesmell.
I nearly fall over as the wave of nausea hits me. Rotting meat mixed with burnt flesh assaults my nostrils. I whirl around, trying to identify the source of the horrendous aroma. My mind replays moments from my recent nightmare, and my blood runs cold as I relate the smell to the horrific monster conjured by mymind.
It was just a dream, I tell myself.Your brain is playing tricks onyou.
