Eliana

ELIANA

Evey Brett

www.loose-id.com

Eliana

Copyright © February 2013 by Evey Brett

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eISBN 9781623001599

Editor: Venessa Giunta

Cover Artist: Anne Cain

Published in the United States of America

Published by

Loose Id LLC

PO Box 809

San Francisco CA 94104-0809

www.loose-id.com

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter One

Someone’s watching me.

Though as hard as she tried, Eliana Reyes couldn’t pinpoint why she had the feeling. None of her fellow passengers openly stared at her. Most slept, read, or chatted quietly. She’d walked past them to use the restroom but couldn’t trace the eerie sensation on any one person in particular. Yet someone had his attention focused on her, and it gave her the creeps.

The feeling didn’t leave once the bus reached Denver. People around her jostled for bags, eager to disembark. Eliana stayed where she was, both to let everyone else leave first and to have a chance to study them as they went by. None seemed out of place. They were all tired and stiff in wrinkled clothes and in a hurry to get wherever they were going.

Eliana rose. Her right leg was one big blot of pain from the hip down after sitting for so long. She muttered a curse. The steep stairs at the front of the bus were hell. Cane hooked over her wrist, Eliana grabbed the railings and swung down to each step, landing on her good leg. The bus driver offered his arm for the final step, and she took it, though she hated needing his support.

None of the other passengers paid her the least attention, yet the eeriness followed her outside. Lamplight illuminated the snow falling in thick flakes. Her breath turned to mist with every exhale. She sucked in the cold air and tried to shake her unease.
What the hell is this? More than nerves
. She could defend herself but not against a danger she couldn’t see.

Unlike the others, she didn’t have to wait for luggage. The only clothes she’d brought were the ones she wore—a knee-length skirt, blouse, thigh-high boots, and a jacket meant for cool Arizona nights, not frigid Colorado ones. She’d spent her last dollar on a bus ticket to take her as far as she could go, but it wasn’t far enough.

Cane in hand, she braced against the ever-present pain in her hip and limped through the terminal. Heads turned as she passed, and she did her best to ignore the stares of pity. A nineteen-year-old leaning on a cane wasn’t a common sight, and she did her best to hold her head high and pretend her leg didn’t ache like the devil after over sixteen hours of travel. The cane was dark, heavy wood and worn: a hand-me-down that was all the hospital had been willing to give her. She hated it, but she needed it unless she wanted to fall down every few steps.

“You poor thing,” a middle-aged, motherly woman said to her. “Here. Sit down. Rest yourself. Is someone coming to meet you?”

Sitting down was the
last
thing she wanted to do. She thanked the woman as kindly as she could and kept walking. No one was coming to meet her. She had no friends, and the family she was trying to reach probably didn’t even know she existed.

She had no place to go. No money. No shelter from the cold. No food for two days, and her painkillers had long since run out. Loathe as she was to consider a homeless shelter, it seemed her only option. She fought back tears.

Gazing around the terminal, she searched for the source of her discomfort. Most were listlessly watching the television or talking to a neighbor. One shaggy man stood in the corner, rocking on his feet and talking to someone only he could see and hear. She went to a pay phone and paged through the directory for addresses and studied the map of downtown Denver to get her bearings. Satisfied, she headed out.

A man held the door for her as she exited the depot. The temperature had dropped even further. Cold air burned her lungs. As if she were a child, she stuck out her tongue to catch the falling flakes. Snow was a novelty. It fell once a year, if that, in southern Arizona and never in such quantities.

She smiled and did her best to appear nonchalant as she headed down the slick sidewalk. After a few blocks, her nose and ears burned, and her toes had been numb for so long she worried about frostbite. The snowdrifts, pretty as they were under the streetlamps, had lost their novelty.

“¿
Estás perdido
?”

She jumped, heart pounding at the voice that came from nowhere. Without stopping, she turned her head to see a handsome, roguish sort of Hispanic man keeping pace with her. He wasn’t someone she recognized from the bus, nor did he heighten the deep uneasiness that continued to follow her, but she remained cautious. He wore an expensive black woolen trench coat and seemed unaffected by the temperature. Eliana kept her face neutral and replied in Spanish, “Not lost. Just heading home.”

The man looked pointedly up and down the street, which was empty except for a truck salting the road. “Not many apartments around here. Kind of late to be out by yourself.”

“I just got off work.” He didn’t seem threatening, but she’d learned long ago never to judge by appearance. From the fine clothes, he had money. The thought crossed her mind that he might want some company for the night.
I don’t think I’m that desperate
. Not yet. Not without trying to find some honest work first.

“I have a room at the hotel just over there. Come over for a drink and warm up.” He held out an ungloved hand. When she hesitated, he shook his hand for emphasis. “I don’t bite. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone.”

His voice had a sexy undertone that raised her hackles.
He’s definitely after what I think he’s after
. “I’m fine. I don’t need an escort.”

“I won’t hurt you.” The man grabbed her free hand.

The warmth of his skin surprised her, though it might have been only because her fingers were numb. “Let go.” She yanked her hand back. He didn’t release her. “Asshole. I said
let go
.” She raised her cane, prepared to crack it against his extended arm if need be.

The man tugged her forward. Eliana lost her balance and stumbled, falling against his broad chest. For a moment she froze, stunned and intoxicated by the heat emanating from him. By the time she tried to right herself, one of his arms encircled her waist and brought them together. With his free hand, he tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to look into his dark eyes. “I’ll take care of you,” he said.

An odd tingling filled her head and drained away any thought of resistance. She was so tired and cold and hungry she didn’t give a damn where she went or with whom as long as it was warm and allowed her to get off her feet. “Is your hotel far?”

“Not far at all.” His smile continued to thaw her reluctance. “I’ll even let you order room service.”

The offer of food did her in. His warmth eased her shivers and made her drowsy, and for a while she didn’t notice he’d turned off the main street and into an alley. Except for a dim bulb over a doorway, the alley was pitch black. Fear overcame the languor. She planted her feet on the asphalt, which sent a jolt of pain through her hip. “I don’t think—”

“That’s right. Don’t think.” His voice was soft and supple, urging her to comply. A wave of fatigue overcame her, and she slumped against him. He slid one hot hand up her leg and beneath her skirt to her thigh. Unwilling, she shivered, and deep down something within her craved more of his touch. “That’s right, sweetheart. Just relax. This will be a night you won’t forget.”

Right. I’ve heard that before
. Yet she couldn’t make herself move. It was as if he’d woven a spell of heat and comfort that kept her paralyzed.

He turned her so that her back was against the rough brick wall. Then he grasped her wrists and forced them above her head. The cane dropped to the ground, the clatter deafening in the otherwise silent night. She ought to fight—she
meant
to—but her will had vanished beneath her body’s need for his touch. He unzipped her thin jacket and swiftly unbuttoned her blouse. Chill air hit bare skin, and she gasped.

Hips against hers, he cupped one breast and kissed her. His hardness probed between her thighs. Then he shifted, putting too much pressure on her sore hip.

The pain instantly cleared her mind.
Wrong. This is all wrong
. With a cry of rage, she raked her fingernails across the man’s cheek.

The man gave a low, inhuman moan and shook his head. Blood spattered onto her face and neck. She was disgusted—until the stuff started to burn. Biting off a cry of pain, she tried to scrape the stuff from her skin, but it was already too late.

She scooped up the cane and headed toward the alley’s entrance, but the man appeared again directly in front of her.

“How the hell…?” She backed up, turned around, and
again
he was there. No matter which way she went or how fast, the man stood before her. His eyes held an eerie orange glow.
Shit. Who the hell is this guy? The devil?

“Going somewhere?”

She swung the cane, but all she managed was an ineffective blow to the man’s arm.

He grabbed her wrist and slammed it against the rough brick wall. Pain streaked through her hand and wrist. She dropped the cane. The man kicked it into the darkness. “Don’t try that again.”

He thrust her onto the asphalt. She landed sideways on her bad hip. Blinding agony shot through her body, and she screamed. The man rolled her onto her back, then stood straddling her. He unbuttoned his pants to expose an erection which seemed far too large to be real. A salacious grin crossed his face, too much like those Eliana had seen before.

Pain or not, she’d be damned if she let the man fuck her. She let out another scream.

The
pop-pop-pop
of bullets came before her cry ended. When she dared to look up, the man had gone stiff, eyes wide as he rocked on his feet. Blood leaked from several wounds in his chest. Slowly, he dropped to his knees astride her. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her hip, she dragged her body out from under his just before he keeled over.

In horror she watched as the man’s body seemed to contract and crumple in on itself. Rivulets of blood fed a pool which quickly spread toward her. Steam rose from the liquid. She tried to crawl away but the slightest movement in her right leg sent shots of agony straight to her hip. She gagged, both from the rancid smell and from the body decomposing in front of her eyes. She groped around in the dark, desperately searching for her cane, but her fingers met only cold, wet asphalt.
Damn it
. Whoever had killed the man was no doubt going to come for her next.