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My phone rings again. Leaning over, I look, and it’s the same number.
“What is going on with this number?” I mutter as I press the ‘accept’ button. “Hello?” I make sure whoever it is can hear my pissed-off tone.
Nothing.
Silence.
“Hello?” I say again, waiting a few seconds. Still, no response. Irritated, I hang up. “Stupid people.” I glance at the time on my phone—ten a.m. I have plenty of time to get some schoolwork done before I have to go to work at lunchtime for another late shift.
Glancing at my phone’s screen, I notice I have missed calls and unread messages. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s different from the one who called me a moment ago.
Hunter:
They will make sense in time. You need to go to the woods, and there you will receive your answers.
Hunter:
Aelina, are you there? Are you all right?
There are no more messages, just phone calls from Hunter’s number. “So it wasn’t a dream.” All the dots start clicking together from the conversation last night with Hunter, and a sense of dread washes over me.
A horn blares outside my window, and I scream, turning toward the sound, my heart now pulsing in my throat.
Getting up, I shuffle to my little coffee machine and add my favorite rich caffeinated pod. I need the pick-me-up to get me going this morning.
How can I be a part of some big underworld family? What the hell do underworld families do? There better not be vampires or something because that would just be messed up.
My phone rings again, and I race over to where I left it, sitting on the small coffee table—the same number as earlier. An overwhelming sense of dread fills me. My hands begin to shake, and I pick up my vibrating phone. “What do you want?”
Silence.
Then I hear it.
Breathing.
“Who is this? I can hear you.”
Another car horn outside my apartment blasts, but it also comes through the other end of the call. The pit in my stomach falls.
The caller is outside.
“I’m going to hang up now and call the police,” I yell, unable to hide the fear in my voice.
“So you are alive ...”
7
“What do you mean? Who are you?” I cry out, walking over to the window that points out to the street.
Keeping myself shielded by the curtain, I see a tall man standing across the road holding something, which I’m guessing is a cell phone to his ear. He’s wearing a black jacket with his collar pulled up. I can’t see his face since he’s looking down.
“I’ve been looking for you, Little Red.”
My blood turns to ice. Hunter called me Red. My focus stays on the figure out front. “I’m not sure who you think I am, but I’m not that person,” I bite back, attempting to mask my fear.
“Oh, dear daughter, you have a debt to settle for me.”
Daughter? Then, the figure lifts his head, staring directly at me. His eyes bore right through my window and into my soul.
