Whisper to a Scream (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #6.5)

“I suppose this is pretty crappy of me, to lure you in like this, but you’re easily the most attractive man in the room, and I just had to know what it felt like to be in your arms.” The confession fell from her lips as if it pained her. “That’s pretty weird, isn’t it? Wait, don’t answer that.”


An awkward tension settled over us. My thoughts were a jumble of questions. I sought a way to regain the ease with which we had just been speaking. Christina had stiffened; each movement was more awkward than the last.

“I’m flattered to have been chosen by a gem such as yourself,” I offered, needing her to look at me. When she didn’t, I reached to grasp her chin, tipping her gaze up to meet mine. “Are you alright? Would you like to go somewhere and talk? Perhaps I should help you find your date.”

For a moment, she was silent, regarding me with such intrigue that I couldn’t help but fear she somehow knew my true identity. Her tongue darted out to glide over her red lips. “You have the most amazing gold sparks in your eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, sure now that some part of her knew. Suspicion gripped me. Perhaps she was a plant, sent to distract me from my task.

I glanced around frantically for Alexa, finding her seated at a table with another, engaged in conversation. She appeared to be perfectly fine.

I opened my mouth, ready to demand that Christina tell me who had sent her to distract me. However, her date returned before I could. He tapped me on the shoulder, but when I turned, his irritation was directed at Christina.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

She looked at me with sudden fear as she replied, “It’s rude to leave a lady waiting. I was just passing some time.”

The man guffawed, a loud, ugly sound. “Good thing you’re not a lady then.” He grabbed her hand and gave a tug before saying to me, “Sorry, pal. You’ll have to pay for your own escort.”

They disappeared into the crowd as he dragged her from the dance floor. She didn’t look back. I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. Disappointment settled in my gut, gnawing like the unwelcome intruder it was. Another uninvited guest, harsh and foreign, made itself painfully known: jealousy.

I stalked from the room, feeling humiliated and chagrined. It was getting late. Soon enough, I could vanish from this human playground. Until then, I would dutifully watch Alexa.

The clock struck midnight, and I immediately left the disappointing charity dinner and dance. I walked down the busy city street, an illusion of humanity among those who called the streets home.

A young woman flipped me off, slurring something derogatory as she stumbled away. I winced when she almost went down on her pretty face. Unable to watch her any longer, I turned away.

Honestly, watching them self-destruct never got any easier. Centuries passed, and though time meant nothing to me, it meant everything to mankind. The humans had so little respect for the power of each passing day. They knew nothing of the greatness meant for them. No, they wasted every gift, every precious moment until they had nothing left. Then, once it was too late, regret claimed them.

The city streets were dangerous. Many creatures of the night lurked in the shadows. Most of them were human, broken people lost in the sins of the flesh. The sorrow that I felt for the lost souls tore at my heart.

A homeless man, who leaned against a bus shelter, glanced up as I approached.

He squinted and muttered, “I’ll be damned. Look at those wings.”

No one should have been able to see me as anything more than a man. Humans could see my wings only when I allowed it, although many things were beyond my control. If he saw me, my true self, then surely he was meant to see.

“Bless you, friend.” I paused to lay a hand on his shoulder. With a smile and a gentle squeeze, I nodded but didn’t linger.

Walking among humans didn’t come without a price. They were many things, all of which tugged at my heart in ways beyond my understanding. Those broken, beautiful, lost humans, with their tragic stories and self-inflicted cages, straggled by me. They knew so little of the power they possessed and the wonder they could create. In this dark world, it was far too easy for a creature of the light to step too close to the abyss, then be lured over the edge.

I continued toward the lights of the intersecting street ahead. There was a twenty-four hour coffee shop on the corner. I enjoyed their caramel macchiato. Fabulous little drink.

I ducked inside, greeted by the warmth of the well-lit establishment. It wasn’t busy, but even at this late hour, there were patrons inside. I approached the cashier and placed my order, thinking about Christina. A prostitute, I would never have guessed. I imagined that to be a very painful life. A casual glance around at my fellow customers revealed that pain was present here, too.