Filed To Story: Zaia Toussaint and Sebastian King: Werewolf Book PDF Free
What were my instincts telling me?
There’s silence on the other side and I slowly move back, staring at my hand on the wall. I hear a door shut quietly and jump back from the wall. Someone was in there… but what was that?
A chill rushes through me and memories of long ago return. That fear of someone trying to kill me in my own apartment makes my blood run cold, and I quickly get off the bed, a strong urge to check every door and in every drawer overcoming me.
I shut the window, no longer trusting it open, before I check every room, behind the couch, the curtains, and the kitchen area.
There’s nothing here… relax Valerie.
I run my hand through my hair, as I decide to return to my room when my gaze falls on the front door and I freeze. Beneath the small gap in the door, I can see what looks like the shadowy outline of feet..
Someone’s out there and just that thought makes my blood run cold.
VALERIE.
My heart almost stops, and my eyes glimmer as I ready myself. I’m no longer that helpless woman I once was…
Even if just the thought of being attacked in my apartment sickens me, I have changed. After the war, I made sure to train, to hone my abilities. Zaia and I had our workout sessions four times a day. I trained hard and although it’s not really something I enjoyed, it’s something I realised I needed.
I silently walk towards the door, my bare feet making no noise and when I’m halfway there, I see the shadow move as the person turns away and I close my eyes when they disappear from outside my door.
The silent creak of the floorboards in their wake as they move along is a reminder that there was indeed someone right outside the door moments ago….
Exhaling slowly, I close my eyes, trying to calm myself before I turn my back to the door and look around the room, placing a hand on my forehead.
“It could have been the neighbours…”
I glance at the far wall. They’re silent and I can hear the faint snoring from beyond the wall.
I enter my bedroom, about to lock the door, when I realise it doesn’t even have alatch.
Great…
I get back into bed and lying on my back, I stare at the wall behind me. Could it have been one of the neighbours on this side? I did hear something before…
Shaking my head, I roll onto my side, listening to the sound of a distant siren, and of someone taking the trash out…
I like it here… it reminds me of my childhood and the small part of town back home where I lived growing up…
I wake suddenly to the sound of someone banging on the door.
“What on earth!”
I matter as I scramble out of bed.
Are those my groceries? They said they’ll deliver after eleven and I don’t sleep in! I glance at the clock as I rush to the door.
I pull it open to see a woman in her mid-fifties standing there, her hands on her hips and it’s obvious from her face that she’s not impressed.
“Can I help you?”
I ask, brushing my hair back.
“Yes, you can. Is that white piece of junk out front yours?”
she asks, rather rudely.
I blink as I glance past her, although we are far too high up to see where she’s pointing past the balcony to the ground far below, five floors down.
My car is white, but it’s anything but junk, even if I did downgrade to something a little modest…
“I’m afraid I’m not sure. My car is quite new. It wouldn’t be classed as junk.”
I answer, running my fingers through my hair.
“Well, move it, you’re blocking me in!”
“I’ll be right there,”
I say, shutting the door with a snap.
How rude.
I had made sure to not block any access. The only thing parked behind my car was an off-road old minivan. I had asked someone about it who said it had notbeen moved in months.
Were they mistaken, or was this woman being petty? I’m sure it’s the latter.
Grabbing some black yoga pants, I pull them on and grab my keys with one hand. and sneakers with the other. Putting them on, I hurry out of the front door and down the stairs.
She’s waiting outside, arms crossed as I hurry to my car, not missing the way everyone is watching. She scoffs, walking over to… yes, the actual piece of junk around here. The minivan.
And she called my car junk?
I reverse, and she spits on the ground, getting into her van, and I sit there patiently. Goddess, this woman is testing me…
I wait until she’s driven off, and I’m about to move back where I was parked when the car makes a strange noise.
What on earth was that?!
I slowly move closer to the wall ahead, but that odd sound makes me stop and turn the engine off. I get out and peer underneath. Not that I know anythingabout cars, but that does not sound good.
“Look like someone tampered with it.”
I turn to see a young man in his early thirties remark, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t leave a car like that out on these streets. They may have been after the parts.”
With those words, he turns and walks off, leaving me to sigh once more. Well, looks like I’ll have to call a garage… I lock the doors and I’m about to return to my apartment and get ready for the day when I stop, seeing a bike parked in the shadows.
It doesn’t fit in… more so than my car. It is a deep black with a royal blue shine with red accents and seats. I don’t know much about bikes, but that one is sexy and expensive…
A black helmet sits on the seat, and it surprises me that no one’s taken it… then why was my car touched?
Sighing, I shake my head and go back inside. I need coffee.
It’s a few hours later and I’ve finished putting my shopping away, which was dropped off by a rather frazzled delivery man. Muttering about how there should have been a lift.
Goddess, doesn’t look like this is the place that ordered groceries online.
Now dressed in tan cropped pants and a white shirt that’s tucked in, I finish the look with a cropped sleeve matching tan blazer. I leave my apartment, deciding to go exploring, and drop my car off at the nearest garage. I just need to get a little used to this place.
The weather is cool, but still rather pleasant. I get into my car, driving slowly as it makes that odd noise every other minute.
“Ah, I should have just called someone to pick it up…
The old man from the first floor said the garage wasn’t far and suggested I take it there.
Sighing, I follow his instructions and find myself outside what looks like a car junkyard.
Is this the place? This is the perfect place to bury a body, I think, shuddering.
I shake my head, glancing at the entrance between the battered metal grail fences. There’s barbed wire along the top of them. The gate, if you can call it that, hangs open, the padlock chain swinging slightly in the breeze.
I drive through, coughing as my car emits fumes. I hope I didn’t make it worse by driving here. I should have listened to my gut instinct.
Alternate Rock music is blaring through the open garage entrance where a few cars are lifted, one with missing wheels, another with an entire smashed bumper.
I get out of the car, glancing around. I can’t see anyone…
The strong smell of petrol hits my nose and I clear my throat.
“Excuse me,is anyone here?”
I ask, trying to hear if I can catch a heartbeat over the blaring music.
I enter the garage, seeing no one, and just when I think maybe there really isn’t anyone here, I see a pair of legs in dirty torn denim jeans sticking out from under a red car.
For a moment I freeze, my throat drying at the thick muscles that are in those torn jeans… two chains are hooked on the side and the bulge at the front does not go unnoticed.
What are you doing, Val!
“Hello? Is he deaf?”
I mutter. “Excuse me!”
The man suddenly slides out from under the car and I’m staring at a deliciously chiselled torso with zero fat and pure muscle. And a tattoo that covers his arm and chest….
Tattoos I recognise…
My heart is in my mouth as my gaze snaps up to the man’s face.
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