Ayden

Flipping the sign to "Closed" and locking the door, Tessa Moonridge heard the bell above the door chime one last time. Via the crevice at the bottom of the door, the chilly night air with a hint of jasmine and urban grime drifted. The burden of her day weighed down on her shoulders like a thick blanket as she groaned and briefly leaned her face against the glass.

The warm glow of the fairy lights she had strung along the shelves of vibrant flowers was the only light in the dimly lit flower shop inside. As she went, her small bursts of life, daisies, peonies, and roses, seemed to watch. But no matter how colorful the flowers were, they were unable to relieve the knot of worry that was always tightening in her chest.

After dealing with dirt and thorns for a long time, Tessa's hands were rough, so she flicked out the final light. She racked her brain. There were bills piling up on the counter at home, and if she didn't find the money to fix her inheritance a dilapidated Victorian home on the outskirts of town it might collapse. Her haven and source of income, the flower store, was barely surviving.

After grabbing her luggage and coat, she made her way to the rear exit. The shadows stretched excessively long between buildings, and the streetlights threw faint halos onto the broken pavement. Her uneasiness began as a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck that she was unable to completely get rid of. She squeezed her bag harder and inhaled deeply.

Behind her, there was a faint echo of footsteps. Her heart pounded as she froze. "Probably nothing," she whispered as she pushed herself to continue moving. But every instinct in her told her that she wasn't alone, and her heartbeat raced.

She halted suddenly and whirled around. Behind her, the street was deserted but for the faint rustle of leaves and a flickering streetlamp. The shadows appeared to move and breathe, as though they were living things.

She muttered, "Get a grip, Tessa," as she attempted to control her growing panic. The feeling of being watched, however, intensified. Her gaze darted to every nook and cranny, to every glimmer of movement as she examined the darkness.

She fumbled with the keys in her shaking hands as she arrived at her car, the metal jangling. It stuck to her like a second skin and didn't go away. She swearing she saw a figure vanish into the alley behind her shop, she looked into the rearview mirror as she climbed into the driver's seat. Despite the car's heated inside, she felt cold as a chill went down her spine.

She grasped the steering wheel, wishing her heart would slow down, her knuckles turning white. She waited for something or someone to appear, gazing at the shop's darkened windows instead of driving away right away. The streets, however, were still silent, and she felt the weight of that silence.

Finally shifting the automobile into gear, she whispered, "You're dreaming." But even as she drove home, she couldn't get rid of the sensation that something or someone was out there, hiding just outside her field of vision.

Tessa was shocked by the slight crunch of gravel when she got out of her automobile. In order to retrieve a forgotten ledger, she had merely parked in the tiny lot behind her store. Her headlights' gentle radiance hardly broke through the dense darkness that gathered around her.

"Tessa Moonridge," a harsh, authoritative masculine voice yelled.

With her heart bouncing into her throat, she spun around. From the shadows, three figures appeared, moving with ease yet purpose. The attire they wore was black and unremarkable, blending in with the darkness. She could feel the intensity of their glances, which made her blood chill.

"Who is asking?" Even as the cold horror seeped into her veins, she answered in a firm voice. She stepped back, analyzing her surroundings swiftly, her mind racing. No one was around to hear her cry, her car was blocked, and the alley was too small to flee across.

The tallest member in the gang moved forward, his lips curled into a sly smirk. His magnetic presence bordered on predatory. "We are known to you. Stop being a fool, witch.

Instinctively, she snarled as the term struck her like a slap. She stated, "You've got the wrong person," in a firmer tone. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The man's gaze grew strained. Don't tell us lies. You have been in our sights. You have been hiding here, acting like you're not. Of all things, selling flowers. He spoke in a contemptuous tone. "But your true identity is known to us."

Tessa felt her heart pounding in her ears. "I'm just a florist; I'm not sure what kind of fantasy you're following. Now, if it's okay with you, I'm going out. With harsh, uncompromising faces, the two others barred her way as she turned.

The leader's smile got bigger. Not so quickly. You don't have to perform. Our goal is to make sure you can't harm anyone else.

Her breath caught. Injured anybody else? How in heck were they discussing this? She frantically tried to think of a way out. I believe you have made a mistake. "I'm not who you think I am," she continued, attempting to sound composed in spite of her voice trembling.

The second man, who was stockier and shorter, produced a slender blade that shone in the dim light. "Enough discourse," he snarled. "She is squandering our time."

Though there was nowhere to go, Tessa's instincts begged her to flee. She felt a rush of adrenaline, and her fingers balled into fists. She refused to be defeated easily.

She remarked in a low voice, "You've chosen the wrong woman. I don't know who you think I am."

There was a grim, humorless chuckle from the leader. "Well, let's check on that."

The slight buzz of electricity in her ears and an unexplainable warmth arose inside her as the man brandishing the sword approached. For a moment, the world appeared to slow down as her vision became sharper. Tessa didn't have time to think about what was going on, so she followed her instincts.

The man's blade touched her coat as she ducked his attack. She spun on her heel and snatched up a discarded wooden board that was leaned against the structure, swinging it as hard as she could. The alley reverberated with the harsh snap of wood meeting flesh as the man with the blade staggered back, gripping his arm and cursing.

A expression of icy resolve took the place of the leader's smile. "You just made a huge error," he growled.