Read Online The Immortal Game (book 1) by Joannah Miley - Free Book Online
Authors: Joannah Miley
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Ruby put it in the refrigerator with the Pad Thai and spring rolls. Her appetite had left with Ash.
She took the picture of her dad, the one from the stairway, and propped it up against a pile of books next to her notes at the kitchen table. She looked to the picture often, but she still had a hard time focusing.
As she lay in bed that night, she touched her lips with the tips of her fingers and tried to remember the feel of Ash’s lips there; the warmth, the pressure, the taste.
He “needed” her. That’s what he had said.
She rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. It took a long time for sleep to find her. When it did she dreamed of falling, and falling, and falling, and then being caught by the bungee cord at her feet and thrown back up into the air. When Ash pulled her back to earth, he kissed her and she felt like she was falling again, but this time her feet were on the ground.
In the dream, the sun on her skin was warm and Ash’s arms were strong around her. He tightened his grip and she laughed, but the embrace soon became too much, too tight, crushing. She pulled her head back to look at him. He smiled but the grin was too large and his eyes were the wrong blue. She tried to get away but he gripped her tighter, pulling her against his body.
Then it was Langston holding her, his features impossibly sharp, sharper than any human’s. His teeth were jagged points. His breath was hot and fetid on her skin. She pushed on his chest, desperate to get away, but he held her tight. His eyes widened and he grinned at her fear.
“Ruby,” he whispered. “Do not veer from your dreams. Ash is a perilous man.”
She stopped struggling, “No. Ash is—”
“Death and destruction,” the Langston monster hissed. “He will ruin us all.”
His smile faded and she was glad that his lips now covered most of those sharp yellow teeth. His face melted away and became a tangle of snakes pouring out at her. She felt their dry scaly skin and their muscles undulating beneath.
She tried to scream, but Langston held her too tight for her to get a breath. She beat at his arms. Each was a snake around her waist.
She woke with a start and tore at the sheets twisted around her. She was breathing hard.
The dream faded. She tried to hold on to it: Langston crushing the breath out of her and telling her Ash was dangerous— perilous —but it was like trying to hold water in cupped hands and the dreamed slipped out of her grasp. Soon it was gone and she was left with the fear without the how or why of it.
Then she heard the knocking.
Her already-racing heart sped. The sound was distant, from somewhere downstairs. She sat still and listened. The light of the streetlamp outside her window came in through the gaps in her curtains.
Thud, thud … thud.
It sounded like someone was dropping something heavy. There was no rhythm to it. She got out of bed and walked to the top of the stairs. She peered down the long flight and waited.
Thud … Thud … Thud.
She went down a few steps.
Thud, thud.
Someone was out there knocking something against the front door. She plucked up her courage and hurried down the stairs. She looked through the peephole but saw only blackness. Had the streetlight gone out? To her right she saw that light still streamed in through the front window.
Thud. Thud.
Her head jerked back as the door shook from whatever was banging on the other side. She looked through the peephole again. The blackness had texture to it. It wasn’t that the street was dark; there was something in the way, something black, and—
She sucked in a breath. She grasped the door handle with her left hand, and placed her right on the bolt lock ready to turn it. She looked through the peephole again.
“Hello?” She said more softly than she intended. The blackness on the other side of the door moved. She heard a quiet moan.
She swallowed, turned the deadbolt, and swung the door wide.
Ash’s body crashed to the floor
She took the picture of her dad, the one from the stairway, and propped it up against a pile of books next to her notes at the kitchen table. She looked to the picture often, but she still had a hard time focusing.
As she lay in bed that night, she touched her lips with the tips of her fingers and tried to remember the feel of Ash’s lips there; the warmth, the pressure, the taste.
He “needed” her. That’s what he had said.
She rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. It took a long time for sleep to find her. When it did she dreamed of falling, and falling, and falling, and then being caught by the bungee cord at her feet and thrown back up into the air. When Ash pulled her back to earth, he kissed her and she felt like she was falling again, but this time her feet were on the ground.
In the dream, the sun on her skin was warm and Ash’s arms were strong around her. He tightened his grip and she laughed, but the embrace soon became too much, too tight, crushing. She pulled her head back to look at him. He smiled but the grin was too large and his eyes were the wrong blue. She tried to get away but he gripped her tighter, pulling her against his body.
Then it was Langston holding her, his features impossibly sharp, sharper than any human’s. His teeth were jagged points. His breath was hot and fetid on her skin. She pushed on his chest, desperate to get away, but he held her tight. His eyes widened and he grinned at her fear.
“Ruby,” he whispered. “Do not veer from your dreams. Ash is a perilous man.”
She stopped struggling, “No. Ash is—”
“Death and destruction,” the Langston monster hissed. “He will ruin us all.”
His smile faded and she was glad that his lips now covered most of those sharp yellow teeth. His face melted away and became a tangle of snakes pouring out at her. She felt their dry scaly skin and their muscles undulating beneath.
She tried to scream, but Langston held her too tight for her to get a breath. She beat at his arms. Each was a snake around her waist.
She woke with a start and tore at the sheets twisted around her. She was breathing hard.
The dream faded. She tried to hold on to it: Langston crushing the breath out of her and telling her Ash was dangerous— perilous —but it was like trying to hold water in cupped hands and the dreamed slipped out of her grasp. Soon it was gone and she was left with the fear without the how or why of it.
Then she heard the knocking.
Her already-racing heart sped. The sound was distant, from somewhere downstairs. She sat still and listened. The light of the streetlamp outside her window came in through the gaps in her curtains.
Thud, thud … thud.
It sounded like someone was dropping something heavy. There was no rhythm to it. She got out of bed and walked to the top of the stairs. She peered down the long flight and waited.
Thud … Thud … Thud.
She went down a few steps.
Thud, thud.
Someone was out there knocking something against the front door. She plucked up her courage and hurried down the stairs. She looked through the peephole but saw only blackness. Had the streetlight gone out? To her right she saw that light still streamed in through the front window.
Thud. Thud.
Her head jerked back as the door shook from whatever was banging on the other side. She looked through the peephole again. The blackness had texture to it. It wasn’t that the street was dark; there was something in the way, something black, and—
She sucked in a breath. She grasped the door handle with her left hand, and placed her right on the bolt lock ready to turn it. She looked through the peephole again.
“Hello?” She said more softly than she intended. The blackness on the other side of the door moved. She heard a quiet moan.
She swallowed, turned the deadbolt, and swung the door wide.
Ash’s body crashed to the floor
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