The Month of April (The Series of Months; Book #1)

Chapter III

She got hung up about her shoe. After the police passed by the alley, showing no interest in silent and still darkness, the woman gathered her singular shoe and mumbled incoherent curses about the mud around the sole. I was mostly frozen with fear, terrified about what I had convinced her to, or that I convinced her in the first place. A sudden burst of courage had come over me, but then it was gone and left me as a terrified statue.

I've seen purple eyes like those before, though I couldn't recall where from. But when she had me pinned a moment ago, when I got a good luck at them, I saw how unnatural they glowed in the dark. And then, when she agreed, she closed them for a second before opening them again to glance over her shoulder; this time, they were brighter in the moonlight. Purple, like violets. Glowing, like lights.

Violet Lights.

She hadn't officially told me her name. I haven't officially given her mine. Something told me she wanted to keep it that way, but something also told me I had to ask. If she was going to help me find my dad, after all, then I wasn't about to let my savior go without credit. I first moved my fingers, feeling the rest of my body relaxing at the reassurance that I wasn't turned to stone.

"I..." My voice was weak, I had to clear it, "Uh, I mean, what do I call you?"

"Depends," she said, "Damn pigs got me all muddy. Not gonna put this back on until I can wash my foot." She gave out a sigh, "Don't go stepping on my toes, alright?"

"Um, okay?" I wasn't certain if I was suppose to introduce myself, I could tell she wasn't interested in my name. Actually, she didn't seem much interest in me at all after the police left. The threat was gone, and with it any and all interest in me. I took in a breath like her, "My name is Emmeline."

"Best not to talk here," she warned, "Too many people eavesdropping this time of night, trust me."

"I see," I didn't like the growing tension between us, so I decided to make a joke, "You're kind knows the ins and outs of this place, eh?"

"My kind being the poor or the eyes?" She asked, suddenly looking at me with genuine curiosity. Her eyes flashed with a bright intention before dimming to a steady glow. No, I couldn't place where I have seen them before, but those eyes were definately tech from the state. I heard about the military getting eyes like that, they auto hone on targets and advanced what-not. But never have I seen such bright of color, or uniquely purple.

"I..." I blinked aswell, "I dunno, both?"

She scoffed, "Well your kind is offly blunt, aren't they? Talk about us like that?"

"The poor or the eyes?" I asked, offering a small smile.

"Hate 'em both," she admitted, "Let's get out of the streets before you feeling like exchanging any more bitter pleasantries." I couldn't tell if both referred to her kind and my kind; or if she meant the eyes and the poor. But I didn't say anything, watching as she tied the laces of her shoe to a loop on her pants and pulled her jacket down over her waistband to hide the gun.

The gun. I almost forgot about it. How could I have been clumsy enough to let her have it, though she quite expertly took it from me. But now, she was armed and I was just as defenseless as before. I tried not to let my fear show, but it was consuming. And this woman was a predator, no doubt she knew exactly what fear smells like.

"Are you coming or can I leave you here?" she asked, giving me a accusing look over her shoulder. I was all too aware that she was moving, that standing in the alleyway any longer was more dangerous than sticking at her side. But my terror was suffocating me, planting me to to the floor. I nodded first, then encircled my fingers around the hem of my wool sweater. Dangerous or not, though likely the first, I was in this for the long haul.