Russian Roulette (Helena Hawthorn Series #1)

Chapter 3b - Lucious

Lucious awoke from the loud ringing next to him. The time on the bright screen of his phone told him it was ten minutes past 6 p.m.

He grumbled a greeting and studied his whereabouts. He was in a hotel room, lying on the bed with drawn pink polka dot curtains. It was dark enough for him to have to squint to make out where the door was. The pilot must have brought him here after he drifted off. With the hounds on his trail and the exhausting search for his sire's killer, he had become open for an attack.

"I take it you're still alive," Alexander said.

"Next time you send me a present like that, call me beforehand. There was no time to read your beautiful handwriting during her attempt to kill me."

Alexander laughed. "I didn't send her, but I had my suspicions." His amusement faded. "It's time for you to get up. I have arranged for you to meet the witch."

Lucious slipped into his black leather jacket. "Tell me where and when."

Much of Dublin remained the same. Humans hated change as much as vampires. The more the world morphed into something new, the harder the adjustment came to either race or such was his interpretation.

He stopped at the traffic lights. The ache in his gut resumed, so he attempted to rub it better, but it made no difference. He cursed under his breath and ignored it by looking ahead. A handful of people across the street were staring at him, most of which were women of different ages, but one stood out. Her hazel eyes dissected his soul, and when he forced a smile, she looked away like a guilty thief.

The light changed to green, and he moved closer to where the girl would pass. With her head down, she bumped into him, and he caught her. The moment his hands landed on her shoulders, the pain stopped, and his fingers tingled with alien energy.

What is she?

She assessed him with large eyes. They didn't belong to a well-trained witch he expected to find. This was a girl no older than twenty. There was no way she could possess the power to track him from another country. Then again, she could be part of the local Circle.

The wind blew past, filling his nostrils with her flowery scent, and he knew he was not mistaken.

She tore away from him and hurried past.

The car on his left honked, telling him the lights had changed.

Without further delay, Lucious shadowed her. Innocent or not, she had created a connection he did not need. If the Council reached her first, she could locate him with ease. He couldn't allow that.

The girl glanced over her shoulder occasionally. Her caution didn't bother him. Hiding in the dark was something he grew accustomed to when hunting his prey.

Once she reached a bus stop, she placed her hand on her chest as if trying to calm her heart. There was nothing noteworthy to her. She wore simple clothes: jeans and an anorak. Rushing into a store, she bumped into a burly man. A flurry of apologies stumbled out of her mouth, and she kept her head low. She manoeuvred around the shop to meet with the clerk, handed something over, and ran outside to catch her bus.

Lucious waited for the bus to pass. He entered the busy store, closing in on the clerk with long strides.

A teenager behind the counter asked, "Do you need any help?"

He concentrated on the kid's eyes, and the teen's expression slackened.

"Hand over what the purple-head gave you."

The teen produced a few sheets of stapled paper titled 'CV'.

Sitting on the bench in the nearby park, he skimmed through her resume. She was nineteen—a child. She had given her contact details, but no address—smart girl. He scanned the pages for anything else that could give him an idea of what she was. To his dismay, there was no more useful information, so he saved her phone number.