Drip Drop Teardrop

by Samantha Young

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Fantasy Romance; Paranormal; Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology; New Adult Romance; Paranormal Romance

Synopsis

From the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of On Dublin Street.

Even Death Can Fall in Love...

Avery hasn't had it easy.
When she was ten years old her parents died in a car crash. Now nine years later her Aunt Caroline is the only family she has left. And Caroline is dying.
So when Death comes knocking in the form of the damaged and dangerous, Brennus, Avery makes a deal with the reaper in order to save her aunt.

Brennus is an Ankou.
One of the many once mortal men and women who were given the choice to become an immortal in exchange for ferrying the dead over into their afterlife.
Nine years ago Brennus took Avery's parents and tried to take Avery, but she fought him and won. Amazed by her strength Brennus followed Avery and has watched over her.

But now he knows she is the one to offer him freedom from his obligation to the dead and he'll stop at nothing to have her.

Release date: April 28, 2011

Publisher: Samantha Young

Print pages: 166

Sample

This sallow-faced creature with the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes bruised with unnatural tiredness could not be her vivacious Aunt Caroline. Only a year ago her aunt had run the New York Marathon, power walked to her job as an editor at the Greener World Magazine, and had proclaimed Sunday, not a day of rest, but ‘Rock Climbing Sunday’. 

But like a blood-sucking vampire that enjoyed playing with its food, cancer had stalked Aunt Caroline and now taken her hostage, drawing her life source out of her day by day.

“You sure you’re going to be OK?” Avery asked for the fiftieth time as she tucked her aunt into bed. She put her meds beside her and made sure her favorite book was on her bedside cabinet along with her reading glasses, a glass of water, her cell in case she needed Avery, and the remote to the ancient mini television that sat in the corner of the room.

Aunt Caroline smiled wearily and made a shooing away gesture. “I told you, today is a good day. Will you please just go? Your friends are waiting for you.”

Ignoring the knot of anxiety in her chest, Avery pressed a light kiss to her aunt’s cheek and made her way quickly out of the apartment before she changed her mind. She had gone through this every month since her aunt’s diagnosis. But it stopped her aunt from feeling unnecessary guilt, and truth be told Avery needed the break sometimes.

“There you are.” Sarah grinned at her, throwing an arm around her as she stepped out of the apartment building.  Jemima winked at her and stubbed out her cigarette with the toe of her six inch yellow heels. At five ten with dark chocolate skin, unusual hazel eyes and a figure to die for, Jemima belonged to the world of modeling in New York City. She smoked because she swore it kept her skinny, but knowing how much Avery hated it (and everyone was taking it easy with Avery these days) she tried not to smoke around her.

“How you doin’, girl?” Jemima asked, rubbing a hand up and down her arm affectionately. 

Despite perks such as Jemima not smoking in front of her, this is what Avery hated: everyone treating her differently because her aunt was dying. It had happened when she lost her parents and it was happening again. She forced a smile. “I’m all dressed up and ready to party.”

“You don’t say.” Sarah took a step back from her, her little sequined clutch purse winking in the cast of the street lights. “Josh is going to blow a gasket when he sees you in this get up.”

Rolling her eyes, Avery pulled on the hem of her black dress. “Is it too much?”

“Nuh-uh,” Jemima assured her, already moving off the sidewalk to flag down a cab. “Just enough, I’d say. With legs as short as yours you need all the help you can get.”

“Excuse me if some of us aren’t Amazonians.”

Jemima snorted in response. 

Avery frowned as a cab pulled over and she shuffled into it with her friends. “Where are the guys?”

Sarah shrugged. “We’re meeting them at the club instead. So, your aunt’s still OK about these club nights?”

Avery smiled humorlessly. “She practically forces me into it.”

Jemima grunted from the other side of Sarah who was packed in between them. “Don’t need to sound so thrilled to be with us, girl.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Jammy is just teasing.” Sarah glared at Jemima, and the girl narrowed her exotic eyes on her.

“I told you to stop calling me Jammy.”

Sarah grinned unrepentantly and turned back to Avery. “So seriously, she’s OK?”

No, her aunt wasn’t OK. She wasn’t going to be OK ever again.

When Avery first found out about her aunt’s terminal diagnosis she was a freshman at NYU, studying journalism just like Aunt Caroline had. It had been a struggle for them to afford it anyway; Avery hadn’t moved out of their tiny one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, she was commuting. And she had a part time job at a coffee chain since they were one of the few corporate companies that Aunt Caroline didn’t have a problem with. 

But after they found the cancer it became clear that Avery was going to have to work full time to take care of them. Aunt Caroline had health insurance but it only went so far; they’d had to use Avery’s small trust fund to pay the rest of the medical bills, but Caroline couldn’t work so there was no money for rent and food. Avery quit school and got a full time job as an office assistant at the Greener World Magazine. Aunt Caroline had worked for them forever and they were devastated for them both, so they had offered Avery a job and were really flexible if she couldn’t come to work when her aunt was having a particularly bad day.

Of course, her Aunt Caroline was riddled with guilt, thinking she had somehow destroyed her big sister’s little girl’s chance for a life. That’s why she insisted that Avery joined her friends at their favorite nightclub, 4.0, at least once a month. No matter how much she tried to tell her not to feel guilty, Avery knew her aunt couldn’t help it. And it was so stupid, considering her Aunt Caroline had given up her free and easy life to take care of Avery when her parents had died. That had been nine years ago when Avery was ten years old. Her mom and dad had taken her on vacation to Europe. They were going to London, then Paris and then onto Venice and then Berlin. They only made it to London. They hired a car and her dad had taken a stupid roundabout the wrong way and they ended up in a head on collision with a truck. Her parents were killed and she had barely survived. Aunt Caroline flew over from New York, saw her through her recovery, and brought her home to her tiny apartment, to the sofa in the living room that doubled as Avery’s bed. But Avery didn’t care about losing her pretty purple bedroom with the fairy lights and gauze bed netting that hung over her four poster making her feel like a princess. All she cared about was Aunt Caroline, her hero. Her hero who had understood that all Avery wanted was to be normal again; who had spent all her extra money on cool clothes so Avery fit in at school; had stretched Avery’s curfew so she could hang out with her friends and not be singled out for being a loser. Somehow only she understood that after months of people ‘pointing’ at the kid who’d lost her parents, all Avery needed was not to be noticed.  She liked to blend. In fact, standing out made her physically afraid. And Caroline, who was the complete opposite, had never judged her for that.

And now Caroline was dying, too.

Avery swallowed against the burning lump in her throat, looking out the cab window and blinking back tears so Sarah and Jemima wouldn’t see.

She listened distantly as the girls chatted about work and guys for the forty minute or so drive to the Meatpacking District.  They pulled up to the club and Avery spotted the guys immediately. They were crowded together, not too far from the front of the line, Josh towering over nearly everyone else there. Adam and Aaron stood beside him deep in animated conversation. As her gaze washed over Josh, who was ogling the ass of the girl in front of him, she drew in a deep breath. Josh was cute in that guy next door-brown hair-perfect blue eyes-dimpled smile-kind of way.  Cute but not too cute. He had been the perfect boyfriend at school - together they weren’t uncool, but they also weren’t too cool, which satisfied Avery because that way they didn’t stick out. But when his incessant immaturity and possessiveness started leading to public drama, Avery had broken up with him just before graduation. For the first few months of college he had persisted in trying to get back together with her. He only backed off now because Jemima had threatened to castrate him if he bothered Avery when she was going through all this with her aunt.

“Avery!” 

She glanced up as Sarah took her elbow and smiled wanly at Josh as he waved them over. Jemima was already strutting towards them, ignoring the wolf whistle from the gorgeous guy two people back from the front. Avery and Sarah both rolled their eyes and then hurried over to the guys. The people behind them ‘hey-ed!’ and grumbled and complained at them for cutting in front until Jemima spun around and iced them out with one of her famous glares.

“Avery, you look amazing.” Josh pulled her into a tight hug, smooshing her face up against his hard chest. She struggled to pull back and actually had to push him away a little. He didn’t seem to notice though, his eyes washing over her, his eyebrows creasing towards each other in concern. “You OK?” He asked in sotto voce tones. “We’re all worried about you. We’re not quite sure you’re coping, Ave.”

Avery tried not to grimace at how patronizing he sounded and was thankful when Adam punched him on the arm. “Dude, shut up.” He turned to Avery, his chocolate eyes smiling. “Ave, babe, don’t listen to him. We all think you’re coping great. Its little princess here who worries like a pimp-less whore.”

“Why would a whore worry if she didn’t have a pimp?” Sarah tilted her head to the side, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I would have thought a whore would be thankful not to have a pimp. Aren’t pimps bad?”

Avery shook her head in disbelief. “Are we really having this conversation?”

“No, we’re really getting into this club right now cause I’m freezing my bony little tush off,” Jemima growled and shoved past them. They watched as she flirted with the doorman. They seemed familiar with one another. She pointed back at them and then brushed a piece of invisible lint off the doorman’s lapel. It was such a clichéd move, Avery shook her head.

It worked.

Jemima waved them down and they hurried out of the line to the entrance, ignoring the yells of complaints from everyone else in line, afraid if they didn’t move fast enough Mr. Doorman would change his mind.

The bass of the music could be heard like a faint heartbeat in the distance as they checked their jackets. Avery shivered in anticipation. A security guard gripped the handle on the double doors where the heartbeat pounded behind, each thud of the bass like a taunt beckoning Avery inside. And then the door was wrenched open, the music shooting through Avery in thrumming waves, vibrating in the air around her, demanding her hips to catch the undulations. Sarah grabbed her hand and they took off down the stairs and through the crowds clustered around the tables scattered on the edges of the main dance floor. She allowed Sarah to pull her into the throng of bodies moving to the beat of Rihanna’s Only Girl (in the World), giving herself over body and soul and letting the beat wash away her stress and grief. Here was good. Here she was just one of hundreds of people enjoying the heady bliss of the dance floor.

Soon Jemima found them and yelled that the guys were getting them drinks. Avery wasn’t sure how long it took them but it was a while before they returned with a round of JD and diet coke for the ladies, courtesy of Aaron being twenty one and Adam and Josh having fake ID’s. Avery threw back the whisky and coke and broke through the crowds so she could abandon the glass on a nearby table. She didn’t want anything, even a little glass, getting in the way of her freedom on the dance floor. 

The guys danced with them for a while, and Avery’s elbow found Josh’s stomach a couple of times when he danced too close. Just as he was beginning to destroy her buzz, the guys decided they were too hot and went off in search for a table. 

Sometime later Jemima persuaded them to leave the dance floor to get another drink and find the boys. Eventually they found them upstairs at one of the low tables and sofas that overlooked the dance floor below. They already had a round of drinks waiting for them. Avery stood with Sarah a little away from Jemima and the guys, who lounged on the sofa, sipping the JD and coke this time as they swayed their hips in time with the music. As she surveyed the huge club, Avery felt a prickle of awareness and her eyes automatically sought out the cause. 

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was him again.

The last couple of months at the club Avery had become aware of this guy watching her – well, her friends said he was - but every time she looked over at him his gaze was elsewhere. He was pretty hard to miss. It wasn’t just the fact that he was so tall and wide of shoulder. Or that he was always dressed in this stylish suit that looked as if he should be melting in it. It wasn’t his longish silky black hair or eyes that seemed to burrow through the crowds with power. No. It was the hideous, long scar across his stark face. It cut from just above his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose and deep along his left cheek in a diagonal slash. In the flashing light of the club that’s all she ever seemed to see. That ugly scar. That ugly scar that made people turn and look at him with a mixture of fear and awe. The stir he caused made Avery shrink from him in her natural disinclination to be center of attention. While she swore she found him repellent, at the same time her eyes were weirdly drawn to him. She couldn’t stop wondering what color his eyes were.

A heavy arm thumped down across her shoulder making her spill her drink.

“Hey, pretty lady,” an unfamiliar voice slurred in her ear and she drew back from the breath that stank of alcohol and looked into the face of a very drunk guy. 

Irritated, Avery tried to pull away from the stranger but he clung like a burr.

“You want to dance?” His hips gyrated at her and she heard Sarah giggle beside her. She threw her an ‘I am not amused’ look.

“No thank you.” She tried to get out from under his arm again but her dark hair got caught in his grubby hand. “Will you let go,” she snapped. Why was it drunken guys thought it was OK to manhandle strange women in public? 

“Hey, baby, chillax, I just want to dance.”

She grimaced. “Chillax? Really?” She tried to shrug him off again and only ended up spilling her drink.

“She said get off her, man!” Josh was suddenly in the guy’s face, pushing him aggressively away from Avery so she lost her balance and would have fallen if Sarah hadn’t been beside her.

“Hey, man, chillax, chillax.” The guy could barely open his eyes he was that far gone.

“Chillax? I’ll fucking chillax, man.” Josh made to lunge for him but Adam thankfully grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “You better take off!”

The drunk stumbled down the stairs away from them, half the people at the nearby seats glaring at him and the other half at Josh. Avery was with the latter half.

“Jesus, Josh.” She thrust her empty glass at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t need your help.”

Josh glared at her, completely taken aback by her attack. “The guy wouldn’t get off you! I heard you ask him to a dozen times!”

“I was handling it,” she hissed, wishing she could melt into the floor so people would stop staring. This was why she had broken up with the idiot.

“No, you weren’t. You’re just a little thing, Avery.” Josh moved to brush a hand down her arm but she jerked away from him. “You’re not strong enough to deal with guys like that.”

A flush of anger crawled up from the pit of her stomach, up across her chest, spreading up her neck like a rash of indignation. She was so fed up of people telling her she wasn’t strong enough. You’re not strong enough to cope with college and work, Avery. You’re not strong enough to cope with a sick aunt, Avery, maybe we should look in to getting you some help. You’re not strong enough to beat off some drunken guy, Avery! These people had no idea who she really was - the crap she had gone through and was still going through. And all she wanted tonight was to freakin’ dance without people staring at her expecting her to fall to pieces!

“You’re not my boyfriend, Josh, and you won’t be ever again,” she snarled, ignoring Jemima punching the air in support, clearly glad Avery was finally telling him off. “So stop pretending we are something, OK.”

He looked like a wounded puppy but Avery refused to feel bad. He’d used that look too many times to manipulate her in the past. No wonder he thought she had no backbone. “But, Ave-”

“No. No ‘but Ave’ anything. I am going back down to the dance floor and if you follow me and try to dance up my butt again, so help me God I will kick you in the nuts.”

She swept past him hurriedly and down the stairs, hearing Sarah rushing to catch up with her. Once on the dance floor Sarah gazed at her wide-eyed, clearly desperate to laugh. Avery threw her a sheepish shrug, wondering where that blast of anger had come from, and then hi-fived the hand Sarah held up to her. They burst out laughing. God, telling Josh off had felt so good. Chuckling, she spun around letting the music take over again, stripping her life down to just this moment, on this floor, with this music in the air.

A little while later she felt a tug on her arm and Sarah was gesturing at her. She leaned in and Sarah yelled in her ear, “Hey! That guy is here. He’s staring at you again!” She pointed through the crowds and Avery followed her gaze to the tall, dark scarred guy across the room. This time when she looked he didn’t look away. Their eyes locked and Avery’s heart began racing like crazy, a hot tingling flush completely different from the heat she felt from the dance floor seized a hold of her, and for a minute she couldn’t breathe, the sound of the music growing muffled, like she was under water or something. And then she blinked and he was gone, the hotness disappearing with him. She took a huge gulp of air and turned to Sarah wide-eyed.

“You OK?” Sarah shouted, looking concerned. “He’s really creepy, Avery. And he looks really dangerous all scarred up like that. Maybe we should tell someone!”

Avery managed a weak shake of her head, not entirely sure what had just happened to her. But the last thing she wanted was drawing attention to the situation. Trembling, she had to force her body to respond to the music again until eventually her muscles relaxed into it, her heart racing at a normal speed for the exertion she was putting it through. At some point Sarah told her she was going to get another drink and Avery threw her a nod in response before spinning back into the throng of dancers, not caring she was alone; she just closed her eyes and let the music sluice over her.

The beat of the Black-Eyed Peas began to wind down as the mix of the next song seeped into it, and Avery opened her eyes in disappointment as Paul Weller’s You Do Something to Me came on. She wasn’t the only one confused by the song choice, but pretty soon people shrugged it off and coupled up, swaying to the sexy romance of the music. 

Avery sighed and turned on her heel, intending to leave the dance floor. She walked straight into a brick wall of a chest. This beautiful, fresh woodsy smell fluttered up her nose and she tilted her head back slowly, her eyes taking in the dark suit, crisp white shirt, the broad-shoulders, the strong jaw. And then that face. That scar. For a moment she could look at nothing else. It was so deep the skin around it seeming to curl into itself, slightly red compared the paleness of the rest of his face. It was a hateful disfigurement. It was hard to see past it. But as that unfamiliar heat crawled up from her lower belly Avery managed to unglue her eyes from the scar and catch his gaze.  His eyes bored into her with an intensity that freaked her out. His eyes were black. Jet black. Fragments of light flickering and reflecting back at her from them. Now that she wasn’t so transfixed by the scar she could see he was older than her by the sharp, strong planes of his face. He was so pale. And that scar… she shivered.

He scared the crap out of her.

“May I have this dance?” He asked in a soft accent she couldn’t quite place – it sounded English but it wasn’t.

Her jaw dropped. Creepy scarred guy wanted to dance with her? She felt her throat closing as she glanced around. Just as she feared, people were watching. Her heart began to escalate as the old irrational terror came back. Her aunt had tried to get her to see a psychiatrist about it but that would mean someone being completely focused on her and well… wasn’t that really the whole fruit of her fear.  Avery felt a panic attack come on as people grimaced at her for talking with creepy scar guy. 

But then he touched her wrist.

 Delicious heat, like dipping into a hot bath on a cold, rainy day, rushed up her arm and her chest opened, her heart slowed. Turning back to him his face was still taut but his eyes seemed… kind? Calm flooded over her, and despite her fear Avery found herself nodding. Why am I nodding? She asked herself distantly. He slowly reached out and placed a strong hand on her waist, drawing her close. Her breath hitched in her throat as she raised her arm, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his left hand. Her tiny hand got lost in his huge one and he smiled softly at her, knocking the rest of the air out of her body. She was so sure he was hideous but when he smiled… the scar seemed inconsequential.

His wicked smile widened. “Breathe,” he whispered softly, and pulled her tight against him so that her head rested against his shoulder. She shuddered as he breathed her in, positive he must feel her heart thumping against his chest. The hand at her waist slid gently up and down her spine and she shivered, wanting to burrow closer to him. The hot tingles unfurled across her body and she felt this overwhelming need to melt into him. Even as her mind told her he frightened her, repulsed her even, a fog of intoxication descended around her as they moved perfectly together. Her mouth quirked up in surprise as he repeated the lyrics to the song in her ear. In that moment all she wanted were those lips of his on hers. 

No, she jerked back, shivering at the thought. She didn’t really want this creep anywhere near her right?

He tugged her back, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, his hands tightening around her angrily. “This is right,” he growled in her ear.

It was, wasn’t it? She thought, her heart picking up pace again. She was frightened again. Because now this weird stranger seemed so familiar.

An upbeat dance track merged into the last chords of the song and a gust of cold air blew across Avery’s skin. She blinked, opening her eyes, gobsmacked to find she was dancing alone, the dark scarred guy nowhere to be seen.


*** 


“Seriously, girl, I thought Josh was going to bust a blood vessel.” Jemima chuckled drunkenly as the cab driver headed towards Avery’s apartment. “Did you dance with that ugly guy just to piss him off?”

Avery shrugged, smiling weakly, feeling a little sick. “I don’t know.”

Sarah nudged her with her shoulder, her blue eyes concerned. “I dunno if you should have danced with him, Ave. He’s really… ugh… and I think he may have paid the DJ to play that song just so he could dance with you.”

She flinched at her friend’s unkind words. But hadn’t she been thinking the same? God, they were all so shallow. So what, she argued with herself, frowning. Scarred guy had drawn a huge amount of attention to her by dancing with her and she was furious. Every time she thought about it she shuddered in horror. He deserved the cruel words.

“Did you guys see where he went?” She asked softly, her rational mind telling her that no person alive could move that fast. 

“Nah,” Sarah replied, “I’m just glad he left. You didn’t give him your number, did you?”

Avery shook her head, refusing to acknowledge what felt like a twang of disappointment in her chest. 

“Oh my God, Ave!” Jemima squealed gesticulating wildly in her JD infused haze. “You should have got his digits! He may be creepy ass but there’s something kind of sexy about the idea of doing it with him! I’d bet he’d be super grateful, if you know what I mean!”

Avery grimaced at all the squealing in the cramped cab. “Can you make it stop?” She pleaded with Sarah, gesturing to Jemima.

“Yeah, can you?” The cabbie groaned.

Sarah giggled and patted Jemima’s arm. “Jammy, babe, you want to lower the tone a little huh? You’re deafening children in Africa.”

“Pfft!” She waved them off before promptly thumping her head back against the seat, her eyes slamming shut.

“Wow,” Avery whispered, “You’re like a witch or something.”

Sarah giggled again and then began telling her to ignore Jemima. There was nothing sexy about some built stalker guy who has a knife slash across half his face. 

Avery was so thankful when the cabbie pulled up outside her apartment. She needed to get away from all the lecturing and questions. She needed to get away from thinking about that weird guy and the way he made her feel. Like she wasn’t who she thought she was. Like she was meant for something else. God, was there anything more traumatizing than an identity crisis? Yeah, no, she definitely didn’t need that right now. 

As per usual she offered Sarah some money for their expensive cab trip but Sarah shook her head adamantly. Too tired to argue, Avery said goodbye and hurried up to her apartment.

“Avery, that you?” Her aunt’s soft voice called to her as she moved around the sitting room, kicking off her heels and stretching her feet out flat against the cold wooden floors.

“Ahh, that feels good,” she murmured before hurrying into her aunt’s room. Her Aunt Caroline was still awake, her book opened on her lap. “You can’t sleep?”

“I wanted to see if you had a good night.” She smiled softly at her.

Avery clucked her tongue reprovingly. “Aunt Caroline, you should be asleep.”

“Did you have a good time?”

At which part? She felt like asking. The part where I told off my ex-boyfriend or the part where I slow danced with the ugliest, sexy guy I’ve ever met?

“Yeah, I had a good time.”

“Did you dance?”

She grinned. “Of course. You know I love to dance.”


~2~


The following month wasn’t a great one. Aunt Caroline underwent another round of palliative chemo and spent the next few days suffering from severe fatigue. Avery stayed home from work so they lost more income. That didn’t matter so much as how strange Aunt Caroline was starting to look, kind of bloated as well as emaciated at the same time, if that were even possible. 

When she was starting to feel a little stronger her aunt told the doctors she wasn’t going to have any more chemo. They didn’t argue with her. Avery wanted to but it was selfish to ask Aunt Caroline to go through the ordeal of it all just so she wouldn’t have to live without her for an extra couple of months.

Weirdly the decision seemed to put a spring in Caroline’s step. Finally facing the cancer, facing the inevitably of her death, had lifted a weight off her shoulders and the last week of the month she had been strong enough to go to the market – they’d even gone to a movie together. She was exhausted afterwards but there was color in her cheeks again. 

Nightclub night came around as quickly as it always did and for once Avery wasn’t as worried about her aunt. Her friend, Stacey, from Greener World Magazine had come over with some wine and Caroline had said “to hell with it” and was forgoing her meds to have some. She was a grown woman. Avery wasn’t going to argue with her. She left the two of them giggling at the television in the sitting room and ventured out to find Sarah waiting for her. Jemima had a modeling job the next day and was on a 24 hour fast because of it - it involved no alcohol and an early night in bed. Josh still wasn’t talking to her, and Aaron and Adam were on a double date with a brother and sister (Avery refused to get into their complicated dating life), so it was just her and Sarah tonight. Avery didn’t mind. Sarah was the only one who seemed to be as addicted to the dance floor anyway.

They hopped in a cab, Avery thankful she’d worn skinny jeans and a leather jacket tonight, considering the bitter wind blowing in from the north east. They were early so there wasn’t much of a line outside and it wasn’t long until they were inside 4.0 sipping mojitos at a table in the corner. As soon as Jennifer Lopez’s On the Floor came on Avery was shrugging out of her jacket and dragging Sarah up to dance.  Like always, she was lost, carelessly dancing with random guys and girls who were enjoying the beat as much as she was. But somehow as the hours crept along she began to miss something. And then she choked, coming to a stop when she realized what it was. There was no familiar prickling sensation tonight. She spun around, searching the crowds and the club for tall, dark scarred guy - the tall, dark scarred guy she was afraid to admit had crossed her mind more often than he should have this past month. Huh. He wasn’t here tonight.

Of course he isn’t, Avery snorted inwardly, it’s not like he’s stalking me or anything and only comes to this club on the nights I’m here.

“You OK?!” Sarah shouted over the music, her brow creased with concern.

“I’m fine!” She shrugged it off and continued to dance. But the rest of the evening was somehow poisoned by the thought of him not being there. Avery felt a little sick. Which was just so weird… considering the guy scared the crap out of her.

Sarah didn’t seem to notice how distracted Avery was and they danced on into the night. They burst out of the club just after 1am, people milling around outside. There were no cabs.

“We’ll have to walk a little, I think,” Sarah grumbled. 

Avery groaned, the blue stilettos she had borrowed from Sarah pinching. Giving into her fate she tucked her arm into Sarah’s and they strolled down the street together, not surprised by how busy it was even at this time of night. Just as they made it out of the busier section, Avery felt an alien chill rush over her at the sight of three people ahead of them. Two guys and a girl. The girl stood in between the guys who were clearly facing off, their bodies bristling with aggression.

“Jake, cut it out!” the girl screamed, trying to pull the taller of the two men away.

“Oh God,” Sarah muttered, “Domestic.”

Avery tugged on her arm, somehow desperate to get to them. “Come on.”

“Avery…”

They grew closer, the two guys shouting in each other’s faces now, the girl having been pushed away from them.

“You think you’re a tough guy?!” the shorter of the two screamed, spittle dripping from his lips. “Yeah, let’s see how tough you are now!” There was a flash of silver and then he seemed to punch the Jake guy in the stomach. But as the girl screamed and Jake fell to his knees, Avery came to a stop, bile rising in her throat at the sight of the bloody knife pulling back from its attack on Jake’s body. The short guy brandished it at the girl. “Told you not to mess with Dominic! Bitch!” The guy spat and then he took off at a run.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Sarah was trembling as the girl screamed over her boyfriend’s body. “Avery, oh my God!”

Avery pushed past the fear gnawing at her gut and hurried over to the girl. The girl looked up at her, tears streaming down her face, mascara all over her cheeks. “Help me!” She sobbed, her hands shaking, covered in blood.

Jake lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, his white t-shirt completely soaked through with blood as it spread at a worrying pace. He shuddered in little starts that told Avery he was going into shock. Shit!

“Sarah, call 911!” Avery yelled over her shoulder and then pulled off her leather jacket. She whipped her top off, goosebumps erupting across her skin in the cold night air. Quickly, with trembling fingers, she pulled the jacket back on and zipped it up. Her top she balled up and pressed to Jake’s wound to try and staunch the bleeding. He cried out at the pressure.

“It’s OK,” Avery assured him, breathing too fast. “It’ll help, Jake. It is Jake, right?”

“It’s Jake,” the girl answered, shaking hysterically.

“They’re on their way.” Sarah cast a shadow over them. Avery looked up at her, noting a couple of people who now stood to the side, pale and in shock, watching them. Sarah was crying. 

A prickle caught at the back of Avery’s neck and her heart seemed to stop. Slowly she turned and stared across the street. She gasped. Tall, dark scarred guy was standing on the opposite sidewalk, pale and serious - his dark eyes fixed intently on Jake. There was a sense of finality about him. He sighed heavily, putting his hands into the pockets of his black wool coat before he turned away from them, slowly striding out of sight. 

And somehow Avery knew without looking down that the ambulance wasn’t going to make it in time.

Jake was already gone.