Whisper to a Scream (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #6.5)

“I don’t come here enough,” she said, taking a deep breath of cool evening air. “I always forget how beautiful it is.”


“I come here frequently. It’s an enchanting little piece of nature in the midst of such chaos.” The scent of foliage was rich and sweet. The environment resonated a vibrant energy that hummed with purity.

“So, is this something you do a lot?” Christina asked with a teasing smile. “Bring women out here, woo them with some pretty poetic words about nature, and then what? You sure you aren’t going to murder me?”

I laughed along with her. It was the smallest of things to share, but it felt massive. The wall she had erected between us was crumbling, much to my relief.

“I promise that you will always be safe with me.” I plucked a flower from the ground and tucked it into her hair. The blush that colored her cheeks caused my stomach to tighten.

She reached to touch the flower, watching me with veiled suspicion. “I do feel safe with you. Why is that? Especially considering it feels like you’re hiding something massive and dangerous.”

Quickly, I averted my gaze, staring out at the river. The streetlights bounced off the water’s surface, their reflection rippled and danced. I toyed with the idea of spilling my secret, but I just couldn’t.

“I’m sure there is much we’re both withholding. Wouldn’t you say?” I countered. “Tell me something. Why did you try to get rid of me? Because I ran out on you? Is that the only reason?”

“You like to get right to the point, huh?” She elbowed me playfully in the ribs. “Ok, fine. The truth is that I was afraid. I really like you, Willow. You danced with me without knowing what I do. Your smile was so real. It felt like it was just for me. But then you found out and you took off. It stung more than I’d like to admit.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she spat out a few explicit words. “Wow. Why did I just tell you that?”

She pranced away to a bench up ahead and patted the seat beside her, waiting for me to catch up.

“You’re a good listener. A little too good,” she quipped when I sat beside her.

“It’s a gift.” I laughed it off, hoping to make light of it. Humans felt safe and secure with me. It wasn’t my intent to draw her in with that ability, but it wasn’t always within my control. “Seriously though, Christina, I truly am sorry for the disappearing act. It was work related. I hope you can understand.”

Her smile faded. I hated that. She touched the flower again, slowly tracing each petal with her fingers.

“I can try. Now, you answer a question. Tell me what makes a sweet, good looking, but a little bit weird, kind of guy like you break your hooker cherry.”

The heat of her body next to mine stole my voice. We sat close, just barely touching. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I had already broken so many rules.

“Something about you drew me. Something that your occupation cannot change.”

“I hear a lot of crap talk from the guys that come to see me. I kind of prefer it when they don’t talk and just get down to business instead. But, you’re pretty good at this.” Christina’s voice quaked with nerves. She had every reason to be afraid; we were breaking the laws of nature.

I stared at her hand where she gripped the edge of the bench. Letting my breath out slowly, I slid my fingers over hers. “Is that how you’d like this to go? I use your body and then leave, never caring about the soul housed inside? That’s not who I am.”

Our eyes met. Christina searched me, skeptical and confused. She did not pull her hand away when I slipped my fingers between hers.

“What are you?” She asked, her voice filled with wonder. She blinked a few times and gave her head a shake. “Sorry, that was a weird thing to say. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man talk to me like I’m a person. I don’t really know how to respond.”

This was dangerous. She was seeing through my human façade without knowing it. The illusion was failing because my intent, too, was failing. I wanted her to see, though it was selfish. I had no right to change her forever.

“You are a person. Never accept that you’re less than that. You are not your job. It does not define you.” I lifted her hand to my lips, pressing a chaste kiss to her palm.

Her long lashes fluttered, and she sighed. “Well aren’t you a sweet talker? I might not even have to fake it with you.”

Christina’s words cut me like a double-edged sword, deep and painful. It sickened me to imagine her playing a role for a man who saw her as nothing but a body to use and abuse.

“Come on,” I said, standing and pulling her along with me. “I’ll walk you back to your car. I want to make sure you get there safely.”