Heiress to a Curse. Zandria Munson

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Heiress to a Curse - Zandria Munson


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yet Alexandra sensed a deep sadness that called out to her.

      Mady turned then and began walking in the direction of the park. Regaining her composure, Alexandra fol lowed. After about a block, the image raced across the street, passing through the ongoing traffic, and Alexandra was forced to stop at the curb. From where she stood she could see Mady moving along the sidewalk. A van appeared then, and a man stepped out. The man from her vision.

      Alexandra took a chance and wove her way through the traffic, but by the time she crossed the images were gone. She looked up and down the street and caught the tail end of the van turning a corner. Quickly, she raced in that direction, turning the corner and running halfway down the alley before she came to an abrupt halt. It was a dead end and there was no sign of Mady or the blue van.

      “Hey, lady, can you spare some change?”

      The voice startled Alexandra and she turned to face the man who’d spoken. He wasn’t alone. The three men who barred the entrance of the alley were tall and disreputable in appearance. They wore layers of dirty clothing, and she could smell their stench even from a few feet away.

      “Sorry, I have no money,” she said, offering them a nervous smile. “I think I’ve made a wrong turn. If you gentlemen would excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” said the shorter of the trio as he sidestepped to block her path. His tanned skin was covered with smudges of dirt and his straggly blond hair fell forward to shield half of his narrow face.

      “Careful, Weasel,” another man spoke. “We don’t want to scare the little lady, now do we?” He was completely bald and his skin was as dark as midnight. He smiled, flashing yellow teeth.

      The man called Weasel laughed. “I ain’t scaring her, Bubba. She just needs to do what we ask her to and she’ll be fine.”

      The third man advanced a step and with a quick flip of his wrist, he produced a pocket knife. “And if she doesn’t, we’ll cut her!” He leered.

      Alexandra’s heart drummed in her chest when the man holding the knife took another step toward her. He looked more forbidding than the others with his towering height, pale skin and the tattered patch he wore over his left eye. She shot a frantic look down the alley. Two solid walls of brick surrounded her on either side, and no doorways offered hope for help. The only way out was through them.

      Bubba turned to the man on his left. “Put that thing away, Scratch. I’m sure we won’t need to do any harm. This little lady isn’t gonna give us no trouble, isn’t that right, missy?”

      She took a step backward, clutching her studded saddlebag. “I told you before, I don’t have any money,” she said, trying to mask the slight tremor in her voice.

      “I don’t have any money,” Weasel mocked in a distorted voice. “We heard you the first time, broad. We just don’t believe you. All dressed up in your fancy suit, smelling real good, and you expect us to believe you don’t have any cash? What are you, some kinda social worker or something? Well, I’ve got some special needs you can attend to.” He was moving closer now, circling her slowly.

      Alexandra stiffened, holding her breath as his gaze traveled from her black wedges up her slender, stocking-clad legs to the smooth curve of her hips in the formfitting skirt, her narrow waist and the slightly revealing V-neck of her ruffled blouse.

      When his eyes snapped back up to meet hers, he wore a sadistic grin. “Hand over your purse!”

      Slowly, she slipped her designer handbag from her shoulder and passed it to him. She was shaking all over, for she knew that they would find nothing in it to appease their greed. She’d been in a rush to leave her apartment that morning, and she’d failed to pack her wallet. All she had was a MetroCard and a few dollars, barely enough for a taxi home.

      Weasel snatched the purse from her and his accomplices gathered around to inspect their bounty. The zipper was yanked open and he rummaged through the pockets, discarding anything he thought useless. Her cherry lipstick, followed by her address book and then her notepad, hit the gravel. When he pulled out her mini tape recorder, he tossed it to Bubba, who held it up for inspection.

      “I think we can get a few bucks for this,” Bubba commented.

      Scratch leaned over to look at it, as well.

      Alexandra was grateful for the diversion and she eased to the left as she calculated the distance to the main street. She could make a run for it. She would probably get caught, but at least she’d be near enough to scream and hope that someone would hear her.

      Without a second thought, she swung her blazer over Weasel’s head and gave him a firm shove, sending him stumbling into the others.

      Not even looking back, she raced toward the ongoing traffic as fast as her heels would allow. She heard an angry growl and then the heavy thud of footfalls behind her. In the next moment, a punishing hand grabbed her arm and she was yanked violently around. The sleeve of her blouse ripped and she was propelled to the right, where she slammed into the brick wall and fell to the ground.

      Recovering quickly, she looked up to see Weasel tossing her shirt sleeve aside and storming toward her. She tried to scramble away, but was promptly blocked by a pair of long legs. Scratch stood above her, turning the knife around in his hand.

      “I guess you don’t like your pretty face.” He sneered.

      Weasel came to stand beside him. “I think we need to teach her a lesson.” He reached down to twist a lock of her hair about a grimy finger.

      Alexandra tried to push his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

      “Man, shut that bitch up!” Bubba, who was still rummaging through her purse, barked.

      Scratch squatted next to her, bringing the knife dangerously close to her face. “Make another sound and I’ll cut you, I swear I will.”

      His fetid odor engulfed her and she was forced to hold her breath. Her heart was racing. Only once before had she been so afraid, when she’d gotten the news of her parents’ deaths and she knew she was all alone in the world. Yet she’d survived that, and somehow she’d survive this.

      With a laugh, Weasel grabbed her right arm and brought her wrist to his gaze. “Now ain’t this pretty,” he snarled as he snatched away the charm bracelet.

      Alexandra sucked in her bottom lip to avoid crying out as the gold chain cut into her skin.

      He held it up to the dim light. “I bet I could get a few bucks for this.” He bit into it before stuffing it into his pocket.

      “Please,” Alexandra began softly as she tried to ignore the sharp point of the knife that hovered near her cheek. “That doesn’t belong to me. If you want money I can get some for you, but please, I need that bracelet.”

      The two men near her erupted in laughter. Scratch traced the smooth edge of the knife against her jawline. “Did you hear that, Bubba? The broad is trying to bargain with us.” He laughed. “Says she’ll give us money if we give her back her bracelet.”

      Bubba tossed Alexandra’s handbag aside. “What money? All she has in here is twelve bucks,” he said as he recounted the bills.

      Weasel walked toward him. “Jeez, is that all?”

      “Cell phone,” Bubba replied as he passed the lavender, rhinestone-encrusted object to him.

      Left alone with Scratch, Alexandra turned frightened eyes onto him. He leered at her. He seemed to thrive on her fear.

      “I bet you got some valuables under your clothes,” he said as he trailed the knife along her neckline. “There’s only one way to find out now, ain’t there?”

      The tip of the blade slipped beneath the top button of her blouse and with a tug, it popped away. The upper half of her top fell open.

      Alexandra’s breath caught when, with a grin, he positioned the knife under


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