Page 2 of King of Shadows

He looks at me for a long moment. “First of all, I need you to calm down and lower your hands. This isn’t a robbery.”

I obey, slowly lowering my hands. “It isn’t? Because it sure as hell looks like one. You broke into my apartment and pointed a gun at me…”

“I’m not pointing it at you now, am I?”

“But you’re still holding it.” I stare at the gun. “How exactly is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Something almost like amusement flickers across his face. Then his expression turns serious again.

“Look, in a few minutes, some men in police uniforms are going to knock on your door. They’re going to ask if you’ve seen me.”

He shifts the gun, not pointing it at me, but not hiding it either. “You’re going to tell them you haven’t.”

My pulse kicks up again. “But you’re standing right here.”

He lets out a slow breath. “Yes. But I want you to tell them I’m not here.”

I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “And why would I do that?”

He quirks a brow. “Because I need your help? And I’m asking nicely?”

I look at the gun still in his hand. “Yeah right.”

I would never lie to the police. That is a crime. That makes me an accomplice... My mind races. Whatever this person in front of me has done that needs to be hidden from the police, as long as I can see them, I'm saved.

“I'm warning you, they aren't real police,” he interrupts, as if reading my mind. “That's why I said people in police uniforms. They aren't cops, they're bad guys. If you want to survive tonight, go open the door and tell them you haven't seen me.”

“If you say anything else, you die tonight.” His voice drops an octave. “Not by me. By them. They’ll kill us both.”

My eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Look, I’m not an armed robber.” He notices my eyes flick toward his gun and sighs. “Yeah, I know how this looks. But my point is, I’m not going to hurt you. If that were my intention, I would have done it already.”

I suddenly realize he’s right. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it already.

I look around my kitchen. “Okay. What if I just don’t answer the door?”

“No. You have to answer.”

“No, I don’t.” I shake my head. “If they knock, I can just ignore them. They’ll assume I’m not home.”

He sighs. “They won’t. Because your kitchen light is on.”

I glance at the light above us. Shit. I look toward the rest of my apartment. The lights are on too.

“They’ll know you’re home,” he says.

I drag a hand down my face. “This is not how I planned to spend my night.”

He watches me with an expression that is almost too calm for someone who is bleeding all over my kitchen floor.

“Trust me,” he says. “Neither did I.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Neither did you? You’re the one who broke into my apartment. Of all the units in this building, why mine? I locked my door. I know I locked my door. How did you even get in?”

“We don’t have time for that.”

The urgency in his voice makes me tense all over again. This can’t go on. God knows what he might do to me. Then I notice the knife block sitting on the counter. My hand moves before I can think better of it. I grab a knife.