Russian Roulette (Helena Hawthorn Series #1)

Chapter 2b

The clock on her nightstand told her that it was two in the morning. She sat up, switched on the lamp, and rubbed her face with her hands. Michael had played her. The Angel Realm and her mental shields had to be a dream. He must have used some kind of trick to get her to relax long enough to drift off.

Was it a dream? She winced as a pounding headache kept knocking on her skull with a hammering force.

"Michael?" she called out, needing answers.

Helena drew in a breath and prepared to call out again when he materialised. His expression forced her to shut her mouth. Outrage glistened in his eyes. And, if whatever happened was real, he had the right to be mad. She had ignored his request to not touch anything. But, it wasn't like she had a choice. Her body moved by itself.

"Michael, I—"

"I don't have much time to sit here discussing things with you, Helena. It was a mistake bringing you along. I should have gone by myself. What you—" He paused as if searching for the right word. "—did, should have never happened."

Helena massaged her temples, hoping to soothe the ache inside. It was similar to the first hangover she got on her sixteenth birthday when Laura bet her she could drink more. Even then, her friend emerged victorious.

"I'm sorry I did that. I-I wasn't myself. It was as if—"

"No need for excuses. I must go. We will deal with the mess you've caused later." He vanished.

Helena crawled out of bed. His stinging words unsettled her heart. She knew it was her fault for what happened, yet she didn't do it on purpose.

Leaving her room in search of some aspirin, she edged down the hall. The living room's lamplight misted in from below, causing her to pause. Everyone had to go to college in the morning. It didn't make sense for someone to stay up.

Her headache forgotten, she tiptoed to the staircase and peered over the bannister. She entertained the thought it could be a vampire waiting for her. Rationalisation banished the idiotic idea of a possible intruder who by no means could locate her. The strings created an encounter. It wasn't a tracking device. Or, so she hoped.

The soles of her bare feet stung from the icy metal steps. Halfway down, she made a mental note to buy some slippers for the apartment when she got the chance. With her attention on the gleam, she cursed for thinking it could be a blood-sucking monster when Andrew came into view. He sat on the sofa with an opened book on his lap.

"You're still up?" she asked.

Andrew's head jerked in her direction. "God, don't creep up on me, Thorn. You know I have a weak heart."

Helena rolled her eyes. He was a sports freak and played on multiple teams in school. She never understood the fascination with running around a field after a ball in sweaty uniforms. As a contrast to him and Laura, she hated exercise and anything associated with it.

Andrew shut the book and deposited it on the coffee table. It wasn't what she expected. She assumed he was reading comics or something even less mentally stimulating, not a volume on finance.

He ambled over and lifted her head with a gentle touch. "You look pale, you should go back to sleep."

The earlier conversation with Laura came flooding back, and her cheeks flushed red. Without realising it, she took a step back.

Andrew scratched the back of his head and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "Ah, Laura has already talked to you about...um...that."

Helena's mind raced as she struggled to find the right words. Did she need to give him her reply now or was there a certain amount of time she had to think about the issue? Could she answer him?