Afterlight by Elle Jasper

“It’s not safe out here.”
    “Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” I said, trying to look behind me, pushing against his steely weight. “What’s your problem? Why are you on me?” Worse was the fact that there was something I found exciting about him. I had no idea what it was—he’d threatened me twice now.
    “Get inside and stay there. Understand?”
    I did not like being bullied or told what to do. “You don’t know me, and you definitely don’t scare me,” I said angrily. “And I’m not out here for my friggin’ health, so why don’t you back off !” I growled, and shoved hard against him. It was like trying to move a packed freezer. Not a single inch budged.
    Suddenly, my body shifted from the wall and pushed up the steps. “What the f—”
    “Move,” he said, and this guy’s hands wrapped around my waist to keep me from hauling ass. He all but pushed me along.
    “What the hell?!” I said, struggling against him but finding it was no use.
    “Shut up and come on,” he said. “You need to see something.”
    I continued to thrash despite the uselessness of it. Now it was on principle. I wasn’t going to just meander along at his command.
    For the first time in a long, long time, I felt vulnerable, but I’d chew my own arm off before letting him know it.
    At the top of the steps he guided me across the walk and up merchant’s drive, then down the narrow, dank alley between Inksomnia and the Boho Boutique, where he gave me a shove. I stumbled, caught myself against the tabby wall (made of oyster shell and sand mortar), then sucked in a gasp. The strong scent of urine and metal filled my nostrils, and my quick reflexes jerked me back so fast that I fell against him ; his steely grip held me upright. The streetlamp behind the Boho poured a hazy amber glow into the alley and onto the sprawled figure on the ground, unnaturally positioned as though all the bones were broken. I stared, unable to look away, my voice trapped inside my throat, at the body of a young male, his chest and throat literally flayed open . A dark substance splashed against the tabby wall behind him, splattered around his body. Blood . Wide, glassy eyes stared lifeless in the lamplight, and my hand flew to my mouth as I pushed against him to get away. “He’s freaking dead,” I said out loud, and looked into the face still hidden by shadows, at the one who’d forced me to this place. “You,” I whispered. I gagged, turned, and fought with fists against him. “Let me go!” I said, choking, and in the next instant my body shifted, and once again I found myself pressed against Inksomnia’s back-door entrance.
    He shook me. Hard. “It wasn’t me,” he said. My head snapped back, and again I caught only glimpses of his profile. He was young. My age maybe. “Do you understand now?” he said, his voice dropping to a low pitch, his mouth moving to my ear. “It’s not safe anymore. And it’s not what you think.” He gave me a shove. “Go. I’ll find your brother.”
    For the first time in forever, fear gripped me by the throat. “Leave my brother alone,” I warned, my voice quivering. “Swear to God, you’d better leave him the fuck alone.”
    Just then he moved, ever so slightly, to the side, and I caught a subtle glimpse of his features. Straight nose, cut jaw, and his eyes—they freaking glowed . The sight of them made me flinch.
    “Get inside. Bolt the door,” he ground out as though in pain. He reached behind me, twisted the doorknob, threw open the door, and shoved me inside.
    I fell against the stairs leading up to my and Seth’s apartment, grasped the handrail, and steadied myself. When my vision focused on the doorway, he was gone. I slammed the door and threw the bolt, my heart slamming against my ribs as I backed away. I quickly climbed the stairs, my mind racing, scrambling to grasp what had happened, what I’d just seen, and none of it made sense. Who was that guy? What did he want with me,