Alpha Asher By Jane Doe

Chapter 131 – “What? I can’t do that. You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.” My surprise slowed my pace, and my legs groaned miserably as I pushed them harder, forcing us to keep up.

“They’ll want something in return, right?” She huffed, continuing without waiting for an answer. Her voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. “Don’t use them to k**l them, just to get us away a distraction or something that’ll help us get a head start. I assume you’ve got somewhere safe to go?”

“Good, because you’re taking me with you. I was safe and sound until you two busted into my dressing room–for the most part, anyway. What matters is I was out, and you two dragged me right back in.” I had no clue what she meant, and neither did Brandon from the confusion that creased his eyebrows and made his pace slow. “You have to use them to get us out of here, or we’re not going to live past tonight.”

Frustration crackled and spread throughout my chest like a sparkler, and even though I was sure it was my imagination, I swore I could feel the shadows waiting-eager to hear me ask for their help after months of ignoring their presence.

I skidded to a stop, spotting a couple dumpsters surrounded by a wooden privacy fence. It was meant to keep the rats and racoons away but judging from the scraps of trash piling up in the drainage ditches, it wasn’t working. Brandon grimaced from the smell but followed Clara and I into the small area without complaint.

I no longer had to try; the darkness was apart of me as much as my Vampire side. The ability to control the shadows would never be a good one it would never be one of pure intention or without temptation. There was always that knowledge that anything–anything I wanted was within arm’s reach. All I had to do was pay the price.

I felt their cold wash over me first but gave them no reaction. Clara shuddered, and the shadows hidden within every corner of the alley and trash area we stood in writhed. A thousand voices, a thousand razor blades slashing across the gritty surface of a chalkboard, all coalescing together into one ear-piercing voice.

‘…now you call on us…’ ‘…to free you from danger…’

‘…to vanquish the puppets that hunt you down…’

I paused, “puppets…why would you call them that?”

Brandon gave me an odd look, and Clara began to before she looked down. Anyone could see the shadows. It was something I realized a long time ago, back when Mason’s mate had lost her life to a deal I’d made. Only the Vampire monarch could use them–haggle with them, but anyone could see them. Tristan had claimed that working with my father, always being in such close proximity to them, over time he found himself able to see them. The same had happened for Breyona and Asher, even though I hadn’t called on them since.

‘…the puppet master pulls the strings…’ ‘…meddles with fate…’

‘…hides from us…’

was behind this, they were hiding from the shadows. Immortal,

the elemental witches long enough to get a car, and get the h**l out of here?” I asked, knowing anymore information given on their part would

into making another deal. It was what they thrived

blood…blood from

to temporarily sate

up at Brandon, “they want your

not getting my blood.” He shook his head; his voice left no room for

later, the pavement surrounding the dumpsters glittered from a coating of fresh blood. Since there was no

be honest with you…I’m getting a little woozy here.” Brandon grumbled, holding his arms out so that the blood trickled down his hands and onto the ground. He dipped his head and instantly jerked back. It was more than refreshing seeing something other than cockiness on his face, even if it was fear. “…those things, they’re taking my

the tendrils of shadow, each taking their turn as they slithered through the puddle of blood on the pavement, taking

you all. Now it’s time to hold up your end

as I left wound after wound on his wrists. Thanks to our advanced

cleaner than it had been before. They were bloated

teeth chattered, wrapping her

and washed out. The green of the dumpster now looked like muddy water, but the shadows behind it- I could see

Brandon flung his arm up at the last minute. I realized why

was no seeing their faces beneath those hoods. All I could make out was the curve of their chins, and how their physiques appeared thin beneath

to her lips, pulled out of the way

of the witches spoke in a soft soprano, which felt completely out of place given both had tried

raspier,

The second replied sourly, ‘…she said

her palm. It flickered and crackled in the night, casting a little golden halo that drifted farther and farther

me like a freight train. There was