Chapter 10: S1 Hidden: Help Me

Aden Clarkson

The walls of the office close in on him, making him feel caged like a feral animal. Even the air inside the room hangs around the ceiling fan in what feels more like a dense, gloomy cloud.

Would she have let me stay, he wonders to himself - I'm sure as shit never going to find out now.

He sighs. Second guessing himself makes him feel inadequate in so many ways, and it's a foreign feeling - one he'd rather not experience again. But even still, he can't help but wonder why he left her in the first place, especially with the connection he felt growing between them.

"We shouldn't have left the girl." Something about the whole situation back on the jogging trail in the park didn't settle well with him, and from what he could read coming off Logan, it had hit him about the same way.

"I'll tell you one thing, this wasn't a random attack." Logan drums his fingers against the leather of the couch. "So, why her?"

Logan's question rings in his mind, making his inner beast restless.

"I've been asking the same question since we found her."

Aden steps inside the adjacent bathroom, opens a small closet, then grabs a long-sleeved dress shirt off a hanger and slips it on.

"Plus," says Logan, "didn't you find it odd that she didn't sense the attacker, or us, for that matter? And the way she zapped the fuck out of me with magic, and her surprised reaction to that magic, well, it just doesn't add up."

The memory of how skin-to-skin contact with her had created a buzz of energy on her skin and his, made his flesh hum with a need - a need to draw her close.

"Agreed." Aden strolls back into the office, buttoning his shirt.

An alluring, phantom aroma fills his nose, invading his senses with hints of her scent. It's as if her smell has attached itself to him and buried itself deep in the pathways of his brain.

Somehow, the aroma seems familiar. Or so he thinks to himself. As if I've smelled it thousands of times before.

The thought confuses him.

What am I thinking, I don't even know her. He struggles to keep his mind focused. But I sure as fuck want.

His inner beast remains on edge more now than when back at the park. With each passing second, it grows impatient. The need to see her, touch her, and protect her rose to a maddening state the moment she closed the door and turned the deadbolt of the brownstone.

Logan's phone buzzes. Even in silence, the finely attuned ears of his beast picks up the sound.

"Anything yet?" His words come out with more of a growl than human speech. "What have they found out?"

"Damn, Aden." Logan slips a hand into his pocket and retrieves his phone. "Let me check. I'm not a fuckin' mind reader or clairvoyant."

His friend scans the LCD screen, glances at him, and then hands the electronic device over. "See for yourself."

A text from the Kensington Cove Watcher, Ava Johansson - a lycan - covers the screen.

- Hugo Tardif's files remain confidential.

- The heads of the Council of the Order called a meeting.

- Seems there's more to this girl's family than meets the eye.

- Will message or call when I have real information.

- The Order requires you to keep an eye on her.

- Keep me posted. Need more men, let me know.

- The Order will send sentries if needed.

Without a word, he forwards the messages on Logan's phone to his. The fact a meeting of the head Wiccans and lupine alphas in Kensington Cove convened only compounds the urge to return to Sophia's place - even if it's something that goes against her wishes.

"The Order never gets involved unless there's something to gain." Aden hands Logan back his cell.

"Or something to lose." Logan takes the device and slides it into his pocket.

Logan makes his way to the couch, plops down on the left-hand side in the corner of the room with a few of the door. He drapes one arm over the back and the other on the armrest.

"So, what's your take on an offer of sentries?" Logan's head tips back and he yawns. "Sure seems squirrelly to me."

"No shit." He didn't even bother to hide the frustration in his voice.

"THIS IS ADEN." His voice echoes through the receiver.

"Aden," a female says, barely above a whisper. "It's Sophia, from the park."

"I can barely hear you." He sits up on the couch in his living room.

"Someone's in the building," she says softly. "They broke through the bathroom door. They're looking for me."

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the back of the store by my uncle's office."

"Did you hit the silent alarm?" Aden rises.

"No. It doesn't work."

"If there're lights on, I want you to turn them off."

"They went out. I think they shut off the breaker in the basement." She sucks in a ragged breath of air. "God. That means there are at least three people in the building right now. Perhaps, more." Her teeth chatter.

"Logan's on the phone with the police. He's reporting a break-in. Keep the phone with you, but turn the ringer off. Set it to silent. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Her voice cracks.

"Can you get to the front door?" Aden walks out of his apartment.

"I can try."

A noise booms in his ear. The muscles in his shoulders and neck tense, and he squeezes the cell in his hand tight enough that a hairline crack runs across the screen.

"Oh, God," she whispers. "I hear something." The phone goes silent for several seconds. "I think someone's down here."

"Listen to me. Turn off the ringer, and don't talk or text. I want you to find a place to hide. We'll be there in less than five minutes."

"Sophia," a deep, throaty growl reverberates over the phone. "Give us the book, bella, and we might just go away."