Free Alexander Death (The Paranormals, Book 3) by JL Bryan

was looking into his eyes. His gaze burned holes through her—he was seeing through her, into the deep inner part of herself that was many lifetimes old. Jenny wanted to know everything he knew about her. And she was already fighting an aching urge to see where else he might want to touch her.
    “What are you thinking about?” he asked.
    “Oh...nothing.” Jenny pulled her hands back and crossed her arms. “Good night, Alexander.”
    “It's almost sunrise. Want to get some breakfast?”
    “I don't think so.” Jenny stepped inside her room. “Alexander, I need to call the hospital back home and check on my dad.”
    “We can't,” Alexander said. “The feds could be monitoring the hospital, hoping you'll call.”
    “But I have to know how he's doing.”
    “I can send somebody to check on him. Someone who won't be traced back here.”
    “And I need to let him know I'm okay, too.”
    “We'll take care of it,” he said. “Just get some rest.”
    Jenny closed the door. There was a lock on the knob, so she turned it into place.
    The bedroom was decorated with some very old handmade furniture, vases with fresh flowers, and a couple of landscape paintings. Jenny lay back on the bed and kicked off the leather sandals. She could feel the vast distance separating her from her home and her father—it was like a terrible ache in her stomach.
    Everyone was safer this way, she told herself. Jenny needed to be thousands of miles from anyone she loved. She brought too much danger to the people around her.
    Though she was troubled, she was also exhausted, and it only took a minute for her to fall into a deep sleep.
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Jenny woke to a flood of daylight and the sound of rusty hinges.
    “Huh?” Jenny sat up. The door to her room stood open, but she was pretty sure she'd locked it the night before.
    “Good morning, Jenny,” a girl's voice said. Jenny turned to see Kisa pushing open the glass shutters of one of Jenny's two windows. The other was already open, and a soft, salty breeze tousled its curtains.
    “What time is it?” Jenny asked. Kisa looked back at her and frowned. Jenny remembered the girl spoke little English, so she pointed to her own wrist, as if she wore a watch. “Time?”
    “Oh!” Kisa held up three fingers. “Three.”
    “Three?” Jenny got up from the bed. She stretched, and her whole body ached from the beating she'd taken in Charleston. She managed to avoid shrieking in pain. “Guess I slept all day.”
    Kisa smiled, but this might have meant she didn't understand Jenny at all. “Clothes. For you.” Kisa indicated a folded outfit on a small table at the foot of the bed. “Mine,” Kisa added.
    Jenny picked up the clothes—there was a traditional blouse, with many narrow vertical lines of bright color, and a pair of jeans. There were also sandals, which would probably be nice in this tropical heat, but Jenny didn't like leaving so much of her skin bare.
    “Thank you.” Jenny held up the shirt, smiling. “This is very pretty.”
    Kisa smiled. “Very pretty? You like it?”
    “I love it.”
    “I make breakfast.” Kisa hurried to the door.
    “Oh, you don't have to...” Jenny began, but the other girl was already gone.
    Jenny dressed in the clothes—they were a little loose on her, but light and comfortable. She put on her own shoes, but left off the socks because they were filthy. Then she pulled on her gloves.
    She looked out the window and had to catch her breath. Below her, the back yard sloped down to a cliff. The rock wall framed the entire yard, but chunks of the wall along the cliff were deeply cracked or broken away, leaving the impression of a row of bizarre rock sculptures.
    Beyond the cliff, the ocean sprawled out to the horizon, glittering with millions of golden flecks of reflected sunlight.
    “That's beautiful,” Jenny whispered. She hurried downstairs and through the kitchen, where Kisa was slicing up a mango while a tortilla fried on the