AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And I know exactly where to start.
I slip into my clothes, a nondescript pair of jeans and a dark hoodie that will help me blend into the night. I tuck my hair up under a baseball cap, the brim pulled low over my eyes. It's not much of a disguise, but it's a start.
I grab my bag, double-checking that I have everything I need. The black card Lucian gave me is tucked safely in my wallet, a reminder of the strange trust that's begun to grow between us.
I still don't fully understand his motives, but I'm starting to believe that he really does want to help me, in his own twisted way. That somehow, as impossible as it seems, he's just as much of a pawn of the Order as I am.
And maybe eventually, I'll be able to break through to him.
Or break away from him entirely.
As I step out into the hallway, the hotel is eerily quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the elevators. I make my way down to the lobby, my footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.
The night clerk barely glances up as I pass by, too engrossed in his phone to pay me any mind. I slip out into the street, the cool night air washing over me like a balm.
The city is different at this hour, the usual bustle and noise replaced by a strange, almost otherworldly calm.
The streets are empty save for the occasional taxi, the sidewalks deserted but for a few stragglers stumbling home from a late night out.
I walk quickly, my head down and my hands shoved into my pockets. I have a destination in mind, a twenty-four-seven store I spotted on one of my earlier forays into the city.
It's a bit of a hike from the hotel, but I don't mind the distance. It gives me time to think, to plan my next move.
As I walk, my mind drifts back to Lucian, to the intensity of his gaze and the heat of his touch. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers on my skin, the way he made me shiver with just a look.
It's a dangerous thing, this attraction that's begun to simmer between us. I know I can't trust him, not by a long shot.
He's still the Hunter, and I'm still his prey.
But there's a part of me that wants to believe in the man beneath the monster, the glimmer of humanity that shines through when he lets his guard down.
I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. I can't afford to get distracted, not now. I need to focus on the task at hand, on becoming someone else entirely.
The store is a beacon of fluorescent light in the darkness, the windows glowing like a promise of salvation. I push through the doors, the bell above jingling merrily to announce my presence.
The clerk barely glances up from his magazine, his eyes glazed with boredom. "Welcome to QuickMart," he drones, the words rote and lifeless.
I nod in acknowledgment, already moving toward the aisles. I grab a basket, my eyes scanning the shelves for anything that might help me blend in.
A pair of nondescript black leggings, a plain white t-shirt, a gray hoodie with a logo I don't recognize. I toss them into the basket along with a pack of hair ties, a decidedly less attractive wallet, and a cheap pair of sunglasses.
Next step is a burner phone.
I grab one, plus a few refillable cards for minutes, and some snacks and other items that might prove useful. Gotta keep up on hygiene even when you're being hunted across the world by an annoyingly hot psychopath.
As I make my way toward the register, a flash of color near the counter catches my eye. It's a display of wigs, cheap synthetic things in a rainbow of hues. I pause, my fingers hovering over a short, spiky black one.
I could always just cut my hair, but that feels… I don't know.
Violating, somehow.
And with a wig, I can just ditch it for another. It's not my style at all, but that's exactly the point. I'm not Aria right now. I'm someone else. Whoever I need to be in order to escape, to survive.
I grab the wig, tossing it into my basket with a grin. It's perfect, a small but significant detail that will help me disappear into the crowd. As I approach the register, I feel a flicker of nerves. A momentary doubt.
What if it's not enough?
But I push the thought aside, steeling my resolve. I have to trust in my own abilities, in the lessons he's taught me. And I need to add my own flair to them, too. I have to believe that I can outsmart him. If not, what's the point in running at all?
