Beneath The Crescent Moon {TMT #3}

Chapter 9

The hand tightened around my throat. "Tell me!"

"Mik!" All of a sudden, Cleo burst through the door and headed straight for Micaiah. The buff man didn't waste any time in wrenching a steaming and furious Mik away. And as if on cue, I landed dizzily on my feet before I was able to regain my bearings in time to watch Micaiah glare heatedly at me.

"Get back to your senses, Mik," Cleo reproached before briefly darting his gaze towards me, saying in a low voice, "She doesn't know anything."

Micaiah didn't seem convinced. "How can you be so sure?" He sneered in a way that unknowingly caused my insides to churn, but I held my expression firm, the burning sensation where his hands had throttled dwindling. "They look exactly alike. This is the closest lead we've got in nineteen freaking years!"

"Shut the hell up and listen to me," Cleo said through gritted teeth, shifting closer to Mik's tensed figure in order to speak in a softer register. Yet even so, I could hear every word, and a nagging sense told me he somehow knew that too despite his actions. "I've been following her. She doesn't know anything, trust me."

I stiffened at the revelation. "What?"

"You're sure?" For the first time since Cleo came out, Micaiah turned his focus away from me, settling it sceptically on the man having a strong grip on his collar.

Cleo, whom I'd almost assumed to have been close to an acquaintance of sorts, cast me another quick sideways glance before releasing Micaiah's shirt. "Yes."

I could hardly believe my ears. "You've been following me?"

He waited a while before nodding, his expression as stoic as ever. "Yes, I have."

"Son of a..." I muttered in surprise and disappointment as I leaned away from the wall, anger increasingly ebbing away the shock that had engulfed my system just moments ago. "I can't believe you, Cleo. I actually thought you could be trustworthy."

"I didn't do it because I thought you were a psycho, Lena, so cut out the vulnerability. This is no time to act like the damsel." He wasted no time to indulge in pitiful excuses and chose to cut to the chase. "We need your help."

I reeled back in disbelief and doubled anger. "Are you serious? You just admitted to stalking me and this jerk almost succeeded in suffocating the hell out of me and you have the guts to judge me for acting the way I am? Not to mention demanding for my help?" I shook my head in incredulity. "Go to hell. Both of you."

Cleo narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step forward. Micaiah, however, just watched the exchange with increasing frustration. "I don't have time for this, Cleo," he gritted out impatiently. "Will the witch help us or not?"

"Go sleep with a-"

"She will."

Cleo's intervention had me practically blowing off steam. "The hell I will! Who do you think you are?"

"Someone who knows you don't have a choice in the matter," he replied with no sort of reaction to my outburst, approaching me with a familiar golden glint in his eyes that had me unconsciously backing into the wall.

"That's it. I'm leaving. You two stay away from me," I warned with a threatening finger before veering sideways to make my way down the street and away from all that nonsense.

"Do not move any farther." Cleo grabbed my arm, preventing me from taking another step, and swiftly turned me around to shove my forgotten shades in my face. "You're coming with us."

Resignation caused me to jerk away from his grip as I rightened my shades to cover my eyes, purposely refusing to thank him for the reminder. "I said no! I'm not helping any of you with whatever you want so leave me the hell alone!"