Resurrect: (Lycan Academy of Shapeshifting: Operation Shift Book 1) Page 3

  “Get out there before I boot you out,” Luella said. “And if you end up needing a place to go, just text me. I’ll keep these two out late.”

  “You’re completely vulgar, you know that?” I said to her.

  “You’ve had a hard day and you need to unwind in whatever way you can.”

  Jamie whistled as Oliver started laughing. She couldn’t have embarrassed me more if she tried.

  I was no virgin and certainly not a sweet little innocent thing. A girl doesn’t grow up around sexy French, German, and Italian men then come out fresh as a daisy. It’s not humanly possible. But that didn’t mean I was ready to bring myself down to the level of a one night stand. I would settle for a snog and maybe exchange numbers.

  I took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage, making my way down the side by the steps as those who stayed behind in the pub started clapping when they saw me. I gave a little bow, a smile, and a toss of my hair, leaving them wanting a little more.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sing like that before.” A deep voice greeted me. It was him. He looked down at me with the same intensity as he did when I was on stage. I straightened my back and met his eyes, refusing to appear like the shy little university student I pretended to be on the train.

  “Few people have. I had a rather unique array of vocal coaches.”

  He was quiet for a moment. But that didn’t stop him from making an advance. If anything I felt as though he was telling any other men in the pub to back off. That he saw me first and I wasn’t going to leave the pub without him.

  I bit my lip. The same way I did on the train. Looking exactly how I didn’t want to look. Like a nervous little teenager. It didn’t seem to turn him off.

  “Tell me about it over a drink,” he said. There was no asking with this guy. It was a command. And tonight, for whatever strange reason, I didn’t mind being commanded.

  “Only if you can find a decent place for us to sit. Most of the chairs look taken.”

  He placed his hand on the small of my back and led me to the bar. I didn’t know how he found it the least bit enticing. I was still sweaty. I could feel droplets running down my back. And the strange part was that he didn’t seem to mind even in the slightest.

  ‘Maybe Luella’s body spray is working its magic after all.’

  “Two beers,” he said to the bartender.

  “On the house for the lady.” The bartender took out two icy cold beers and un-popped the lids. “Bands get to drink for free after the show. We cleaned house in tips tonight thanks to you guys.”

  I flashed him a smile. “Do you think that will translate into booking again with your manager?”

  The bartender cleaned up two spots by the bar with his moist towel as a couple got up from their seats. I took one and started sipping my beer for a bit of liquid courage.

  “Probably,” he said. “It’s not often we get quality bands around here. It’s mostly wannabes who learned how to play guitar from an online video.”

  I nearly choked on my beer as it went down. If only he knew.

  “Amateurs,” I said with a grin as the guy sat down next to me and the bartender turned away to serve more customers.

  “So… tell me about these vocal coaches you had,” he said.

  “You really want to know about that?” I asked, curious if he actually had game beyond simply staring me down on a train with those gorgeous blue eyes.

  “I want to know.”

  I sipped some more beer and started talking. “I was trained in opera. But my love for it waned after I first heard hard rock music when I was twelve years old.”

  “That’s how you hit those incredible notes and still carry a heavy metal sound.”

  “That’s the idea. We wanted to be different from the rest of the bands out there.”

  He moved his arm closer to mine. His finger started edging over my skin and stopped at my copper bracelet. If I wasn’t still so hot from being on stage I might have gotten goosebumps.

  “You are,” he said. I could see his pupils dilating. He was interested. Beyond interested. I, however, needed a little more convincing. Or maybe I just saw one too many ax murderer movies. Either way, he had me intrigued. And I didn’t know why.

  “Why did you follow me off the train this morning?” I asked. “You freaked me out.”

  “Perhaps we had the same destination and I wasn’t following you.”

  “You were definitely following me.”

  “How can you be sure?” He shot me a smirk as if he found my accusation amusing.

  “I guess I can’t be. But you know us women. We have our intuition.”

  “What does your intuition tell you now?”

  His gaze was locked onto me just like when I was on stage. Refusing to let go and drawing me in closer. I found myself leaning in toward him, wanting to know what he smelled like. There was a heavy musk to his skin. A scent that made me even more intrigued. No other man I had ever encountered smelled like that.

  My chin started trembling. A nervous twitch that I couldn’t control. Somehow it never happened when I was on stage. Playing for a crowd thrilled me. Even flirting with guys over the years thrilled me. But this man had a different effect on me. He practically made me feel insecure. Like I wasn’t good enough somehow and he had chosen me out of a crowd of gorgeous girls.

  “That you’re not all you’re pretending to be,” I answered. “There’s something more there.”

  “Ask me anything and I’ll tell you.”

  I flipped my hair back in the way guys tend to love. It makes them want to reach out and touch it. He kept his hand close but didn’t move it.

  “Other than why you were following me?”

  He didn’t say anything. His lips didn’t even move to correct me.

  “Fine,” I conceded. “If you weren’t following me, how did you know I would be here at the pub tonight?”

  “I didn’t. I frequent this place all the time. It has a nice atmosphere and books the best bands in London.”

  ‘Yeah, right. I totally believe you.’

  “Where did you learn opera?” he asked me.

  “Paris. And from my mum.” I silently scolded myself. I didn’t talk about my mum often. Actually, I rarely talked about her with others at all. A part of me always grieved for her and probably always would.

  “Did she share your talent?”

  I nodded and took another sip of my beer. “She taught me everything she knew. And she introduced me to the best vocal coaches in the industry. Until I saw Dream Theater playing in a music video in a random shop TV. That was the end of my motivation to have a career in opera.”

  He didn’t speak again for what felt like minutes. His hand gradually made contact with my skin again and felt down the length of my arm from my elbow to my wrist. His touch was so soft yet incredibly intimate. That same heat I felt onstage was rising inside me.

  ‘Maybe Luella is right. Maybe I do need something more to get my mind off King’s College and my dad.’

  I must have been giving off the right signals because he got even bolder. He reached up to touch my hair, feeling the strands of curls spiraling down my back. He left a trail of heat behind as his let his finger glide along my collar bone then up to my cheek where he let his hand rest.

  I cast my gaze downward, feeling a little shy from his sensual touch.

  As it turned out, I was willing to get a little more relaxed than I realized. The high from being on stage had me in desperate need to come down a little. And a few more drinks had me feeling as though I was practically floating. Not to mention that the guy was the best flirt I had ever encountered. He mixed the perfect amount of touching with quips of humor followed by something insanely flirtatious that I didn’t expect.

  I didn’t want to seem easy. I also didn’t even know how far I wanted to take things. I’m not the type to just hop into bed with someone.

  And yet, this guy had some sort of hold over me. Once he locked his e
yes on mine I couldn’t let go. I remember a foggy moment. And maybe I stumbled trying to get off the chair. Then he caught me. He was up close and personal. I could feel the warmth from his chest through his white t-shirt. His hand rested under my chin as I looked down once more with embarrassment.

  “Don’t hide that beautiful face,” he said. “I want to see it.”

  A few more memories were hazy. I recall walking through the bar as it started losing customers. The bartender was cleaning up and starting to put chairs up on tables. Then before I knew it, I was locked in the bathroom with this mysterious and insanely sexy guy I had only met a few hours ago. If you can even call that a formal meeting. More like a crazy encounter.

  He had me pinned up against the wall. His leather jacket was off. And I was tearing off his shirt. The man was built. I could feel the muscles in his chest pushing up against me as his lips crashed into mine, begging me for more and finally receiving it when I opened my mouth. He didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss even further.

  I raised my leg up and wrapped it around him as he ripped my top open. Then I pulled him in even closer, wanting to feel that need and have him fulfill it.

  ‘What am I doing? I don’t even know his name! I’m not this easy!’

  The sane part of me said I should back off. I should charge out of the bathroom and make a run for it. That this guy was obviously bad news and a crazy stalker who kept women in cages inside his basement. The other part of me couldn’t care less. His scent was intoxicating.

  He ran his hand through my hair as I breathed him in deeper. The heat inside me was getting even more intense. Too intense. I didn’t know what was going on. Then as soon as I started having doubt he pressed even harder against me, making me moan and want more.

  He started kissing my neck. It sent prickles down my arms and back. I was so sensitive there and he knew it when my mouth opened wide and his hands trailed along places I only let a handful of men ever touch me.

  Then he pulled away for air. For a moment, I thought I saw a glow in his eyes. Something gold. A luminous light that wasn’t even possible. He didn’t let me think about it very long. His lips were on top of mine within a second, crushing every lingering doubt I had.

  The last thing I remember from that night was him kissing the other side of my neck, forcing every rational thought I had from my mind. There was only him. His body. His scent. His touch. The weight of his chest pushed up against mine.

  Then everything faded to black.

  3

  I tried opening my eyes. They wouldn’t budge. There was something heavy on top of them. I opened my mouth. All that did was allow a ton of dirt to come cascading through my teeth. I never tasted something so disgusting. I started coughing. Hacking. But there was nowhere for the air to get out. I was choking. My throat was closing up. I struggled to move. My arm twitched. Then my leg.

  ‘I’m dying. I have to be dying.’

  It took every single ounce of strength I had but I managed to get my arm above my head. A few inches. Then a few more. My body was convulsing. I needed air. I needed to breathe. I needed to see the sun.

  My skin touched something above my knuckles. It wasn’t anything solid. It was empty space. There was an opening above me. My hand was free. I started moving it back and forth, pushing aside whatever was on top of me.

  Once I got a little away I worked fiercely, thrusting away the dirt until my face was uncovered and I could gasp for air. Only first I needed to get the dirt out of my mouth. I spit it up and started coughing uncontrollably as it shredded my throat and burned all the way down to my chest. It was on fire. Like I swallowed hot coals.

  I busted my other arm free and started digging my body out. My knuckles were bleeding. I could feel the hot trickle of blood running down the back of my hands.

  When I finally got enough of it off of me, I struggled to sit up. It took some effort from my back muscles that I definitely wasn’t used to using. I groaned as I started breaking free. It wasn’t long before I was able to sit up straight. And when I did, I frantically worked to free my legs. They were deeper than the rest of my body.

  When they were finally out from under the wet dirt, I peered above me and tried standing. Every single shred of my body ached. Like I had just woken up after the most extreme workout I had ever done. My muscles burned with every movement I made. And I couldn’t get a solid breath for the life of me.

  I spit up more and more gobs of dirt. Finally, I had to reach inside my mouth and start pulling it out with my fingers. That was when I realized I shredded my fingernails. When I finally got a good gasp of air to fill my lungs I looked straight up. I was surrounded by dirt walls.

  No. They weren’t dirt walls. It was a grave. A rectangular grave primed and ready for a coffin to be lowered down.

  ‘What the hell happened? What did he do to me? Did I die?’

  Alcohol poisoning. It had to be alcohol poisoning. I drank too much. I let him take complete advantage of me and I drank myself under a table. Or… he murdered me. Maybe he was the ax-wielding murderer I thought he might be. My instincts were right all along and he meant me harm from the very start. Then he killed me and buried me in a grave hoping a coffin would be laid over me so no one would find the body. He tried to cover it up!

  I shook my head free of the thought and replaced it with another one. Survival. Somehow, against all odds, I survived whatever he did to me. I looked down at my tank top to see that it was still hanging over my shoulders, revealing my lace bra to the world. Or at least it used to be nice lace. It was covered in blood. A lot of it. Was it mine? I didn’t remember him stabbing me. All I could recall was enjoying every second of his body pressing into mine before blacking out.

  If he did try to kill me, he did it after undressing me. Maybe he didn’t take complete advantage. Or he took what he wanted then dressed me again.

  ‘Stop! I have to get out of here.’

  The sky was dark above me. The moon was peeking through the clouds but no light shined over me. I was trapped. The walls of dirt were far enough apart to prevent me from climbing.

  ‘I have to try something.’

  I latched my fingers into the dirt before me toward the narrow end. That was when I noticed my pale knuckles. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were bleeding when I dug myself free of the dirt. There were blood stains on my skin but no cuts or scrapes. Like they healed in a matter of seconds.

  I squinted down at my skin and felt my knuckles. The skin didn’t feel like it had ever broken open.

  I didn’t allow myself to focus on it for too long. I was starting to hyperventilate. If I wasn’t having a panic attack in front of Kings College, I certainly was now.

  ‘Use it. Use the adrenaline and get out of here.’

  I lodged my hands into the dirt, feeling my fingernails break from the pressure. Then I hopped up and jammed my leg into one side of the grime-ridden wall. Followed by the other. I removed my hand and lodged it higher, digging my fingers in deeper.

  ‘I can do this! Climb out one step at a time.’

  It took ages but I finally managed to climb up to the top. Mostly because the dirt was moist from fresh rain and it wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world to jam my toes and hands into the walls of dirt.

  ‘Good thing I wore my tough leather boots.’

  I threw one arm over the edge of the grave, then the other, crawling out like I was gasping for a final breath of life and finally reaching the heavens above me.

  I let out a groan and rolled over the instant I reached the top. Sweat trickled down my forehead and into my filthy hair. The cloudy sky rolled above me, revealing slivers of the moon between gusts of wind.

  I wanted to stick around and catch my breath until I realized that I might not have been passed out that long. How could I have been? I would have suffocated much sooner if I was. That meant only one thing. My attacker, the guy I allowed to touch me and make me desire him after he stalked me might still be nearby. And i
f he realized I wasn’t dead he might very well come back and finish the job he started.

  I shot up from the ground and looked around, searching for any sign that he was near. I didn’t see movement. What I did see was the way the grass beneath my feet swayed in the gentle breeze. An owl hooted from atop a Celtic cross grave marker. The iron black gate several yards away was locked tight but the metal was still creaking as though someone had just finished locking it and ran for the hills.

  I jumped when I heard the owl fly away. The sound its wings made as it flapped in the air was overwhelming. And loud! I could see the owl through the night sky with perfect clarity. Then I smelled something. The same way I could smell fresh food from a really good restaurant before even turning the street corner. There was food nearby.

  When I turned around to see what the hell I was smelling I saw nothing more than a small brown rabbit with big floppy ears. They twitched back and forth as it started sensing danger.

  ‘This isn’t right. I’m not smelling a damn rabbit. Rabbits don’t smell like that.’

  But it did. It smelled divine. A growling sound left my throat as the rabbit hopped away and I saw a potential meal flee.

  I rubbed my eyes.

  ‘Why am I thinking this way? What’s going on?’

  A loud snap popped through my arm. Almost like someone had struck me with a rock. I screamed bloody murder and hunched over, holding my right arm close and inspecting the damage. It was broken. I could see where it curved like someone had snapped it.

  Another scream left me as my left leg made the exact same snapping noise and I fell to the ground, crippled by the pain.

  I thrashed right and left as my other leg did the same. This wasn’t someone else attacking me. It wasn’t someone throwing stones and striking me. It was my body. My limbs. They were twisting, bending, and contorting in an unnatural way that made me scream into the sky hoping someone, anyone, would hear me.