Six

“You’re young. For a Skin Writer.”

Serenity didn’t lift her head. Kneeling on the floorboards, her wrists flexed in the cuffs Noah had placed on her. By the time they’d returned to his apartment, she’d overcome her influx of power and had practically fought him to put her down. He’d slapped the cuffs on her quickly, to stop her scratching out at him.

She was sure, in the scuffle, she’d heard the words bitch and feral more than once.

“Come on, Serenity. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why cuff me?” she asked, finally lifting her head. “Hmm?”

Noah lifted himself from the chair and walked to the window. It was huge and the view of the city beyond; breathtaking. But it did nothing to calm her nerves. She’d just watched someone—she’d considered a friend—have his own neck broken. Then she’d been taken to a strange place and put in handcuffs.

She wasn’t exactly confident in Noah’s words.

“That’s for my own protection, because I know what you can do.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

He turned back to her and raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling in the harsh lights of the apartment. “You’re not stupid and neither am I. I’m not going to believe for a second you don’t know of your gifts. You’ve been using them for a while now. Haven’t you?”

Serenity turned her head away and looked around the room. It was sparsely furnished with sterile furniture and grey rugs. She could see two coffee cups on the small dining table, one on either side. Noah didn’t live here alone…

“How many more cups of coffee were you going to ask of that kid? How much longer were you going to use Joe, if Iraziel hadn’t turned up?”

She looked back at Noah. “Iraz—that… Thing killed my friend.”

Noah’s eyes went wide, before he burst out laughing. A deep-throated chuckle which reverberated around the room. “Friend? You don’t have friends, Serenity. You use people for your own gains and then move onto the next town. How many has it been? Fifteen in fifteen months?”

Noah’s words stung and she closed her eyes, holding back tears. While she wanted to know if he’d been watching her, he was right. She only ever used people, never settling down long enough in one place to establish a true friendship. Even all her studying had been online. She knew how easy it would be to gain friendship with someone and have everything fall apart, she’d just decided it was easier to not get attached.

“Do you want to change it?”

Her eyes opened slowly. Noah had moved, placing a dining chair opposite and now he sat, watching her.

“What?”

“Do you want to stop running?”

The question was a smack in the face. A sign she’d gotten to the end of the road. There was nothing after this, bar more running—or death and she knew she didn’t want either.

“And what? Join you and who? Who owns the other cup?”

Noah’s head turned, blonde hair dangling over brown eyes as he looked back to the coffee table and the cups which sat on its surface. He looked back at her and smirked. “Well, aren’t you an observant little beasty.”

She let the comment slide and stared at him.

“It’s helped me survive this long,” She quipped. “Just like I know, with your height and build, you could get across the room, to the knife in your jacket pocket in about ten seconds, if not a little longer.”

“Impressive.”

“And I could probably get out of these cuffs in about the same time…”

“Sure. Show me.”

Serenity blinked. “What?”

Noah waved his hand in the air. “You think you’re good enough to get out of the cuffs? Go on. I want to see it.”

She frowned and wiggled her wrists a little, knowing she wouldn’t be able to and he’d called her bluff, before she lifted her head, looking at him. “I don’t want to.”

“Uh huh…”

She didn’t like the condescending tone to his voice. Gritting her teeth, Serenity tipped her head to the side. “And who are you? Are you a hunter? Are you going to take me back to whatever little club you hunters have and chain me up for good? Sell me to the highest bidder? Are you going to send me into the Ministry and have them do experiments on me?”

The man stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head.

“Just because you think you know what’s going on, doesn’t mean you do. You think life is black and white, that hunters are after you, because of your gift? Sure, I guess the Ministry would have a field day with you…” Noah picked himself up and took the cups to the small kitchenette and returned with a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “But believe me. Hunters are the least of your problems, Skin Writer.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

Noah stopped mid-lift of the bottle and lowered it again. “Call you what?”

“Skin Writer. You and that thing in the alley. You both called me Skin Writer.”

“It’s because that’s what you are, Serenity. You’re a Skin Writer.”