Dead Chance Read online

  "Yes," tears fell down his bright red face. He still rolled around holding himself.

  I put a tip on the police blog anonymously: woman being attacked near Fourth and Boreal Street. The police might get here before the man escaped. Either way, he would be hurting for some time. Walking the rest of the way to the cafe, I cursed picking bits of glass out of my hands.

  Entering the shop, Dan, the best sushi chef in town, stopped bagging up and order. "Dianna! What happened?" he came out from around the counter.

  Some of the patrons looked at me, taking in my disheveled hair, bloodied hands, and knees.

  I said, "You should see the other guy."

  A few people snickered.

  Dan asked, "Do I need to call the police?"

  "Already taken care of." I didn't see Whisper.

  "Whisper's in back. Follow me. She can bandage you up." Dan's dark eyes were full of concern.

  "I'm a big girl, Dan. I can manage on my own. But if you could get me a plate of the usual?"

  He said, "Sure." He went back to helping a customer.

  I headed to the employees only door. Whisper was in her office. As I passed her, she winced taking in my appearance. She got up from her desk and followed me making tisking noises. "Shame."

  I followed her eyes. "Crap." The shoes were trashed, with major scuffing all over the fronts and sides. They had been my fancy black heels for work, now they were headed for the donation bin. Maybe someone out there knew how to fix them.

  Whisper shook her head at me. "So, was it a bug or?"

  "Human. I let my guard down."

  We walked to the bathroom, and she got out the first aid kit. She had put it together herself. It included a chocolate bar because her deep love of movies included the Potter series. Grabbing the tweezers before I could, she held out her palm face up.

  I obediently put one hand in it.

  As she picked out bits of glass, tossing it in a cup by the sink, I grit my teeth. Little hurts were the worst. Loud gurgles came from my stomach. Fighting always made me hungry.

  Misty came into the back room. She was a high school student who worked about ten hours a week at the shop. She put her hands to her mouth. "Oh no."

  Whisper said, "We got this. Can you get Dianna's order from Daniel?"

  Misty nodded, "Sure." She put a hand on my upper arm and squeezed. She was a good kid.

  When she left, Whisper said, "This is going to hurt. Your skin is healing over some of the shards."

  As she used the tweezers to dig at the freshly grown flesh, I said, "Tell me something I don't know."

  "Newborns are colorblind."

  "Well, I guess that proves it," I said.

  "What?" Her skilled hands kept getting out pieces of the glass. "Okay, that hand is done, next."

  As I put my other hand in hers, I said, "We are raised into seeing color."

  She snorted, "A pasty girl like you doesn't need to tell me that."

  Whisper was the most beautiful person I'd ever met in real life. She looked like an after-image of a model's photo shoot, with barely a pore visible on her skin. Her amber eyes were slightly uptilted and pale against her dark complexion. Her hair was in braids today, giving her slim body a queenly aura. Her body appeared stuck at fourteen, slim like a tomboy. But those killer eyes and thick dark lashes made her a true beauty on the outside.

  On the inside, Whisper was my beacon of sanity and the only person I knew that was aware of the existence of monsters. She had visions and used tea reading to try and make sense of them.

  I was tan, for a white person descended from a lot of Knutsons. My mother had some Hispanic blood, but somehow the paler skin had won out. I'd gotten her eyes though, blue-gray. Sometimes I looked in my mirror and wondered what she'd think of who I'd become.

  Pain in my knee from the skin healing over the glass made my stomach rumble even louder.

  Whisper said, "Patience."

  The tweezers gripped a particularly long transparent green sliver.

  Misty came in with a tray of food, as Whisper covered my hands with a damp cloth.

  "You okay, Dianna?"

  "With the glass gone, I am fine. Thanks, Misty," I said nodding at the plate of sushi. I felt a little drool escape my lips.

  Misty nodded, "Dan needs some help with a shitty customer." She held a hand to her mouth, "Sorry."

  Whisper shrugged, "Shouldn't swear, but yeah. Sometimes we can all be shitty." She left to help Misty and Dan out front.

  Grateful, I washed off my hands and sat on the closed toilet. I shoved sushi into my mouth while digging out the bits buried in my knees. I had to cut open some skin to get most of it out. It hurt. More annoying than painful, like a flu shot.

  Washing both knees, I used some bandages over the spots that hadn't healed. I undid my long hair from its chignon and put the bobby pins in an empty mint container in my crossover body bag. Those pesky pins were the devil to keep track of. Using a comb from my bag, I combed out all the glass. Then I put my hair up in a top knot.

  I wanted to tell Whisper about my almost date. It would have been the first one in six years! We never really shared that part of our lives with each other. She was my closest friend, but we both had trust issues. Knowing that the world had actual monsters in it made us both a bit wary.

  I brought the empty plate out to Dan. "Thanks for the meal." I handed him more than enough to cover it and tip Misty.

  Dan took it. He pointed to the bandages on my hands and knee and asked, "Are you alright?"

  "Just bad luck. Fell on a broken bottle. Well, a couple broken bottles."

  "Okay." He said it like he didn't quite believe me.

  I wasn't willing to talk about the monsters with anyone, except Whisper. I waved to Dan and Misty and headed over to Whisper.

  She sat at one of the wooden tables and chairs and waved me over. I sat across from her.

  "Dianna, I was feeling anxious about you." Her beautiful eyes were worried.

  I tilted my head.

  "You need to be on alert, okay?"

  "I will be after this. That jerk hit me in the back. I wasn't paying attention." Another reason to not get involved with Roth. He broke my concentration.

  "What's up?" She stared at me as if I had the answer to her anxiety.

  "Well," I cleared my throat. "I said yes to going on a date."

  Whisper's eyes lit up. "With who? And where?"

  "With Roth and not sure. He said to dress up, but not black tie, whatever that means. But I-”

  "Hold it! Isn't Roth your brand new boss?" Her voice rose a notch.

  "Yes. He is."

  She frowned. "That is trouble you don't need."

  "He made a very convincing argument, but-"

  "Any man can sound convincing when they want to get into your pants," Whisper interrupted. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  "Whisper." I sighed. "Listen. This is not-"

  Her expression was dark as she spoke over me again, "This is a mistake, Dianna."

  My jaw jutted out. "Roth is fun. I have only ever been in one very brief relationship."

  Whisper's face clouded over.

  "Roth is fun. Neither of us is searching for a deep commitment. Aren't I allowed to have fun?"

  Her lips pursed, "He's banging your co-workers. How soon before he asks you to all play together, Dianna?"

  "Bye, Whisper." I waved again to Misty and Dan.

  Outside the wind chill pierced through my layers. My best friend should be coming over to help me pick out an outfit, not spewing trash talk about Roth. If she didn't approve, too fucking bad.

  Chapter Four

  I kicked a can down the street. Cars drove by, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of other pedestrians. I looked at my hands in the street light as I came to a crosswalk.

  I peeled back a bandage. The skin under it was smooth. The walk signal lit up as the traffic stopped. I hurried across the street.

  Deciding to get home faster, I shoved the u
sed bandage in my back pocket and took a narrow alley. It was too narrow for vehicles, and usually, only cats and rats roamed down it.

  I didn’t hear him. His arms went around me, locking mine in place. His bit my neck slightly, but I slammed my head into his stopping the attack. He stumbled back.

  I turned around, ready to fight a monster. But what stood there was a man in a ski mask, with it partially pulled up revealing his mouth and chin.

  “You smell so good,” he said.

  I leapt forward with a kick to the side of his hip. He partially dodged. He turned around and ran.

  He ran so fast. I tried to keep pace but couldn’t.

  “What the hell,” I said, holding my neck and catching my breath at the alley exit.

  I looked around, but there was no sign of him. I started home, wondering if maybe I’d been seeing things.

  It had been known to happen.

  Chapter Five

  My cell chimed as I entered my apartment. It was from Roth, letting me know he'd be there in about an hour. Smiling and humming the tune Roth had been whistling, I took a quick shower. While blow drying my hair, I picked out my dress and lingerie.

  Roth said red was his favorite color. Enticing him would be fun. With that in mind, I picked out a red sheath dress with a matching belt and killer heels in silver, trimmed with red and clear crystals. I'd gotten the dress years ago at a consignment shop, but it was a classic cut and in great shape since I'd never worn it.

  I put on some silver bangles on my left arm. I wore simple makeup, with an extra coat of mascara and ruby red lipstick. Running out of time, I brushed my hair, letting it fall free. It went just past my waist. It was thick and naturally wavy. Roth had only seen me with it pulled back styles: a bun, a chignon, or a ponytail. Maybe this would help set the mood.

  I checked out my hands, the skin was without any wounds. My knee had healed as well. The scratch on my neck still stung. I put cover-up over it. It would mend soon enough.

  I touched it.

  At least the scratch let me know I hadn’t imagined the speedster.

  I heard a knock at my door. Opening it, I expected to see one of my neighbors. Roth wore a black tee that seemed to absorb light and an even darker tight-waisted, but otherwise loose, pair of black pants. He smiled and looked me up and down.

  "Now this is a sight to behold." Roth put his hand on his heart, "Lucifer himself would be green with envy seeing you on my arm."

  I knew I was frowning, but couldn't stop it. "How'd you get in the building?"

  "Ah, your neighbor Devon let me in. A true gentleman, that boy."

  I snickered. "Your maybe six years his senior."

  "How old do you think I am?" Roth moved closer to me, invading my space.

  I felt the heat from his body. My pulse picked up, and I didn't move away.

  He backed up, holding out a hand.

  I held up my pointer finger. "One second." I gathered a silver clutch. I put my ID, credit card, cash, phone, and keys in it.

  "Should I grab a jacket?"

  "No, Di. I can keep you warm all night." Roth's pale eyes were still twinkling with devilry.

  I set the alarm, shut the door, and locked it. Roth still held out his hand. I put my hand in his. His long fingers made my hand seem small, even though he wasn't that much taller than me. With the heels on, I had about an inch on him in height.

  He moved my hand to the crook of his arm.

  "Time to set the night on fire."

  As we left the building, I wondered if this date actually was a good idea.

  Chapter Six

  Roth's car was a Maserati in red. Like himself, the car was loud and an attention seeker. The car made me wonder if he was a trust fund kid. I knew little about cars or vehicles in general. The car was one I'd seen in an action movie Whisper enjoyed. Pushing her and the argument out of my mind, I was determined to have a great time.

  He kept the radio off, and asked, "Have you ever been to La Mademoiselle?"

  "No," I said.

  He turned on the radio, and loud R&B pounded out making conversation virtually impossible.

  In a short time, we pulled up to a building I'd seen but never paid much attention too. The area was the posh part of town, where the haves frequent and the rest of us hear about. The classically designed building was probably ten years old at best. It was ten stories tall. What was this place? A fancy club? Or condos? Both?

  A valet opened Roth's door.

  Coming over with a bounce in his step, Roth opened my door, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm.

  Large wooden doors were opened for us as we entered.

  Two men held the doors open.

  "Mr. Craig," said a man in a black tuxedo with long tails. "So glad you choose to dine here tonight with your companion." His words were heavily accented with French.

  "Always a pleasure, Gabin."

  Gabin said, "Please, follow me this way, Monsieur, and Mademoiselle." He led us to an elevator.

  As we went up in stories, I met Roth's eyes. They twinkled.

  I mouthed, 'Where are we going?'

  He smiled so wide, I could see his sharp canines.

  The elevator stopped, and Gabin led us out. The floor had a small quartet playing their rendition of a modern love song. There was a large area for dancing. Gabin didn't stop, we went through curtains that led to a balcony.

  A small table with two chairs and a spectacular view of the city. Overwhelmed, I sat in a chair when Roth held it out.

  Another man appeared holding a wine bottle.

  Gabin opened it, offering Roth the cork to smell.

  Roth smelled it and nodded.

  Gabin poured the glasses for us. "White Bordeaux," he informed me.

  Roth took a sip, "Perfection."

  Gabin bowed slightly, promising to return with the first course.

  The balcony was covered in potted flowers and plants, and lights. The view was over the river, looking at the city’s skyline across it. It was breathtaking.

  "Wow. Do you always take dates here," the question left my mouth before I could stop it. Stupid.

  He didn't laugh. His pale eyes looking almost clear in the moonlight pierced me. "No. You are the only one." He poured more wine into his glass. Holding it up, he gestured until I raised mine. "To the start of a wild ride."

  I took a sip expecting to hate it. It tasted amazing. Looking at the glass, I took another conservative drink.

  Roth's pale eyes looked at me with a fiery heat in them. "The real deal is always the best."

  Taking another sip, I watched Roth. He had turned his head. His profile showed the bump in his nose where it had been broken at some point. Otherwise, his face was symmetrical. The sharpness of his features would make most men pretty, but it made him seem more male.

  Watching him drink, I admired his dark brows. I'd always been a sucker for dark hair. Roth's natural black hair was gorgeous. I was glad the red dye was growing out to his tips and had faded. It suited him, but his hair constantly fell over his eyes now. I restrained myself many times from reaching out to brush it back.

  Now, I didn't need to. I stretched out, brushing his hair away from his eye.

  Roth stopped moving. His hand reached up and captured mine briefly before letting go.

  Taking a drink, I tried to steady my heart rate. His hand was warm. It would be easy to be held by him.

  I focused on the various blooming flowers and plants. I appreciated the hard work it took to care for them. Let alone, grow them to look picture perfect.

  My grandfather who'd raised me, Grandfather Erik, had been a gardener. It had given me a deep appreciation of nature. All these plants must spend time in a greenhouse, and were brought out for our date. I hope they didn't end up harmed by the chill.

  Touching my arm, Roth said, "You are far away. Where did you go?"

  "Just admiring the plants. Hoping the cold doesn't kill them." I met his eyes.

  "Gabin tends
to them well." He asked, "What is your favorite?"

  "Orchids." My Grandfather Erik loved to raise them.

  "Temperamental plants. Suits you." He grinned.

  I crossed my arms. "So, do you even like plants?"

  He shrugged. "I like trees more than the others. Rowan is my favorite."

  "I don't know much about trees," I admitted.

  He held out his hand. "I suppose we all favor things we grew accustomed to."

  "You mean things we grew up with," I asked.

  "Exactly." Bringing his open hand closer, I gave in and put my hand in it. He gently held it.

  I bit my lip. I'd come out to have fun. Shaking off doubts, I relaxed.

  His finger stroked my hand. "Sorry. You are such fun to tease." He put both hands on mine and said in a deeper voice, "I wonder what other faces you make when teased?"

  I blushed. Roth released my hand as the host Gabin, and the waiter arrived. The waiter held a tray of canapes. I selected two that looked like smoked salmon.

  Roth took a couple of the same types. He ate delicately. Enjoying each bite. I'd finished mine before he'd eaten half of one of his. Crap. This left conversation to me. Dating was hard. Why was I putting myself through this?

  "So, does each tattoo have a story?" I took a sip of the wine. Most people I knew with ink had a story for each one. Even if the story started with, 'Well, one night I got drunk.'

  "Of course." He smiled. "Each one is a symbol of things I've overcome."

  "A dragon?"

  "I've fought my share, Di."

  I smiled. "Right."

  He said, "Could you be a math nerd who never fell prey to gaming?"

  "I never did the paper or video game stuff. I had girlfriends that kept me somewhat normal. They were both into science, biology, but also clothes and make-up." Thinking about Julie and Sara made my heart ache. They should be here.

  "Well, I am sorry for bringing up something that put that shade of pain in your eyes."

  It was my turn to shrug. "We all go through painful times."

  "Something tells me you've felt too much of it too soon." His eyes held empathy, not pity.