A Love to Kill

Chapter Six: Strangers Bearing Messages

I sat alone in the corner of a nearly empty cafe, my suitcase next to me, the crumpled note in my hand. The words were as heavy as they were brief: Stay away from him. This is your only warning.

I'd read it so many times by now that each letter seemed to blur. Someone had known where I'd be, known where I was headed, and clearly wanted me out of Elijah's world. Whoever it was, they weren't subtle.

"Coffee?"

The server's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I managed a weak smile. "Please."

As she walked away, I caught sight of my phone lighting up. Lola. I'd been ignoring her calls all night. My chest tightened as I read her latest message.

Lola: Blue, please just let me know where you are. Matt's asking, and I'm worried.

Guilt swept over me. I hadn't given her much more than "I need space" before disappearing. I typed out a reply: I'm okay. I'll explain soon, I promise.

The phone buzzed almost instantly.

Lola: Are you really okay? This isn't like you, Blue. If something's wrong, tell me.

I pocketed the phone, feeling my emotions split between the warmth of the cafe and the pull of Elijah's world. The thought of him stayed close, like a shadow, his voice and presence resurfacing each time I tried to reason with myself. I wasn't just intrigued by him; it was as if I'd stumbled into a chapter of my life I hadn't known was waiting.

"You know, you're awfully quiet for someone with that look in their eyes," a voice said, snapping me back.

I looked up sharply to find a man in a gray hoodie and cap standing beside my table, a casual smile on his face.

"Excuse me?" I kept my tone even but wary.

"Sorry," he said, taking a step back and raising his hands in mock surrender. "Didn't mean to intrude. I just... couldn't help noticing. It's hard not to spot a fellow traveler." He took the seat across from me, though I hadn't invited him.

"Fellow traveler?" I asked, clutching the note tighter under the table.

"You looked like someone who could use a little conversation," he replied, flashing a polite smile. "The name's Oliver."

"Well, Oliver," I said, giving him a curt smile, "thanks, but I'm not really in a talking mood."

He nodded slowly, leaning back as if to examine me. "Understood. I'm actually here on someone else's behalf. A mutual friend, you could say."

A nervous flicker rose in my chest. "Mutual friend?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

Oliver glanced around, his eyes sharp and alert, before leaning forward. "Look, I'll be direct. I work with Elijah. He wanted me to give you a message. Couldn't make it himself."

I felt my pulse quicken, both alarmed and somehow relieved. "Why would he send you?"

Oliver didn't answer, instead pulling a small envelope from his coat pocket and sliding it across the table. "He thought it'd be best if I delivered it."

I eyed the envelope, feeling a strange apprehension. I'd barely known Elijah a day, and yet here I was, being sent messages through an assistant—or was it handler? I swallowed the thought.

"You know him well?" I asked, testing Oliver's response.

"Well enough," Oliver said with a faint smile. "Elijah's not easy to know, but that's kind of his thing." He shrugged, as if this was part of the job description.