City of Embers

City of Embers The Light’s Shadow, Volume 2 Elizabeth Chance Published by Reflective Line Publishing, 2023. This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. CITY OF EMBERS First edition. May 22, 2023. Copyright © 2023 Elizabeth Chance. ISBN: 979-8223222743 Written by Elizabeth Chance. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 The Light’s Shadow Book Two - City of Embers Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While real places have been referenced, Vilonia is fictitious and any similarities to people, living or dead, groups and events is purely coincidental. Contains mature themes and scenes some readers may find distressing. This book is dedicated to Drew For helping me to set reality straight And Debbie For aiding the characters in making their voices heard CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE: THIS WOULDN’T TAKE LONG CHAPTER TWO: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? CHAPTER THREE: CAN YOU CARRY ME? CHAPTER FOUR: ANOTHER PENNY DROPPED CHAPTER FIVE: NEVER BE TOO PROUD TO CRY CHAPTER SIX: HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN OUT FOR? CHAPTER SEVEN: BUT THERE’S NOTHING HERE CHAPTER EIGHT: SHAME CHAPTER NINE: IS THIS OKAY? CHAPTER TEN: THAT SETTLES IT! CHAPTER ELEVEN: I’M AFRAID YOU’VE LOST ME CHAPTER TWELVE: I THOUGHT YOU’D LIKE IT CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CAN YOU FORGIVE ME? CHAPTER FOURTEEN: I DIDN’T HAVE ANY BETTER IDEAS CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WHAT DO YOU WANT? CHAPTER SIXTEEN: I AM GLAD YOU ARE HERE CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: I WAS PAID CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: CAN WE STOP? CHAPTER NINETEEN: WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT? CHAPTER TWENTY: CRYSTAL, SIR CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SO YOU WERE TELLING ME— CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: YOU’RE NOT PART OF THIS CONVERSATION CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: WHAT WOULD HAPPEN? CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: AREN’T I? CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: IT’S HARD TO TELL CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THAT WAS OUR PROMISE CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: WHY WAS SHE HERE? CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: I JUST DON’T SEE A SOLUTION CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT CHAPTER THIRTY: DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: STEP ON IT CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: I NEED TO SPEAK PLAINLY CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: NO OFFENSE, SIR CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: THE RIVAL WINS AGAIN CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: ARE YOU INSANE?! CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: HEY, WATCH IT! CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: TOO SLOW CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: SPIT IT OUT! CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME CHAPTER FORTY: THAT’S! IT! CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: NOW YOU’RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE! CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: I WOULDN'T WANT THAT CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: WHAT THE F— CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: I’LL HOLD YOU TO THAT PRONUNCIATION GUIDE CHAPTER ONE: THIS WOULDN’T TAKE LONG Lorelai awoke with a start, chest heaving as the nightmare slunk back to the shadows it had emerged from. She covered her eyes in an attempt to catch it but her efforts were as futile as trying to grasp air. A cold sweat settled on her forehead before she swiped it away. There was no time to chase a figment of her imagination; she had more pressing matters to attend to. Taking a seat by the mirror told her what she already knew. A pale, haunted face stared back, with dark circles under her eyes revealing exhaustion. Nothing my mask won’t fix, she thought grimly as she started to paint on the face she wore every day. Color returned to her cheeks, only to wane again as it faded in comparison to the most striking red lips any client would ever meet. The dark circles were never truly hidden so she used them to her advantage, mimicking the shade to frame her bottle-green eyes. It wasn’t as if many people saw them, anyway. Her hair was arranged in a tight bun and decorated with metal chopsticks she had bought on her last holiday. She sighed as she finished, scrutinizing her efforts. Any sign of weakness would be enough to lose what she had spent so long developing, building, securing. She lived in a world of men who would stop at nothing to cut her back to the playthings and possessions they were used to seeing women as. If they ever saw her in that way, there’d be no chance of redeeming the respect her position required. She could just imagine her father’s expression when he realized he had to hand over his business to a daughter rather than a son. A hard slap on her arm instantly brought her back to reality. She couldn’t afford to let her thoughts run away with themselves. Here and now were the only things that mattered, which meant breakfast. Her dog, Dexter, wagged his whole body in agreement as she entered the kitchen where he stayed, raising his paw to receive a companionable rub behind the ears. Satisfied, he padded back to his bed and curled up, eyeing her all the while in case any scraps of food made themselves available to his ravenous appetite. There was no use begging; he ate when she did. He had been here long enough to know that she was in charge and she always controlled his food intake to enhance his capabilities as a guard dog. She hummed to herself as she cooked up a greasy selection that made Dexter drool. The gradually overpowering scents of kippers, bacon, eggs, sausages, and toast were almost enough to disguise an intruder. Almost. Her heart pounded in her chest as Dexter shot up and barked as loudly as he could, growling in the direction of the front door, hackles raised and ready to attack. Lorelai turned off the cooker, her body screaming in fear. With quaking hands, she retrieved two of the sharpest knives from a block she kept on the counter. Dexter was never vocal unless there was danger; he had a sense of smell that had been trained well enough to know the difference between a threat and a visitor. She, on the other hand, had been drilled on the most effective ways to utilize most forms of stress, keeping a level head and focusing on her breathing, counting for each inhale, each exhale.... BANG! The door shuddered but remained intact. Lorelai had made sure that all the screws