Joby gave me one of his lopsided grins, which meant he knew I was lying. “I don’t know. She always acts strange.”
“But anything stranger than usual,” I prodded.
“Maybe.” Joby shrugged. “She was spending a lot of time at the tree house and she was babbling about a serial killer in the neighborhood.”
“What?” I gasped.
Sighing, Joby sat back in his chair. “I don’t know. She saw some weird stuff going on, but didn't want to say what until she knew for sure.”
“And you didn’t tell Dad?”
“I just thought she was full of shit like girls her age always are.”
“Really?” My brow shot up. “Don’t you think that's a bit sexist?” My displeasure came through loud and clear.
As far as I was concerned, he was starting to act a little too much like Jasper. That could be partly my fault for not being around the last four years. I'd left Jasper in charge and he’d tried to rot my little brother's mind.
“Language, Joby,” Pippa said as she entered the kitchen. She’d returned just in time to hear part of the conversation. I thought it was rich for Pippa to be complaining about language since she was probably the wickedest witch in Raven Point.
Joby rolled his eyes. “Give it a break, Pippa. You’re not one to gripe about language. You are just worried about curbing your potty mouth so you can snag a man.”
Pippa’s green witch eyes settled on Joby. She looked as if she were ready to thrash him a good one.
It was time to intervene.
“Did you know about Ember’s serial killer theory? I guess she was convinced there is a serial killer in the neighborhood.”
“That’s the first I've heard about it,” she said, a frown twisting and her ruby red lips. “Why didn’t she say something?”
Again, Joby shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“We need to look into this,” Pippa said, directing her words to me.
“You think?” I asked with a roll of my eyes. “It should have been looked into right away.”
Pippa tossed Joby a dirty look. “We could have done that if we'd known about it.”
“Sorry. I thought she was doing her usual witch babbling,” he said, somewhat defensively.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
Tossing me a sour look, he shrugged. “You have to admit, witches do babble a lot.”
Now I was the one ready to strangle him. But before I could commit to committing murdering him, Pippa jumped in.
“Now that we have something to go on, what’s the plan?” she asked.
I gave Joby a nasty look before turning to Pippa. “I have a plan and a person of interest.”
Pippa drew her perfectly plucked brows together. “Are you going to share?”
“Our new neighbor is a bit on the strange side. That doesn’t make him guilty of anything, but it does make him a person of interest. I’ve been invited to visit him at Wicked and I’m going to take him up on that invite.”
“You're going to Wicked?” Pippa’s eyes danced with laughter.
“What’s wrong with that?” My sister might have been amused but I wasn’t. She could be so judgmental.
“Nothing is wrong with it,” she said, lifting her shoulders. “I just think that Wicked might not be your taste.”
“If you think some small town nightclub is bad, you’ve never been to a frat party.”
“And I can tell that you’ve never been to Wicked,” she said, her voice ringing with laughter. “Take my word for it. You don’t want to go alone."
My sister’s amusement had me rethinking my plan. If Pippa thought it was bad then it had to be really bad.
“Do you want to go with me?” I asked.
“Not me,” she said, folding her arms. “The first and only time I visited Wicked, the girl I was with disappeared and woke up in a coffin the next morning.”
“She's dead?” I gasped.
“No,” Pippa frowned. “She woke up in a bed fashioned to look like a coffin and the guy she was with wasn’t exactly another witch. She claims that she doesn’t remember anything after we got separated.”
The part about the coffin bed sounded a bit kinky, but I wasn’t so sure the memory loss would be all that enjoyable. “Did she file a police report?”
“Hell yes! They tested her blood for the Date Rape drug but there was no trace of it. Basically, it ended up being a she said he said thing. No one could collaborate her story and I never actually saw her with the guy.”
“What happened with the case?” I asked, wondering if there was some way I could help Pippa’s friend get some justice.
A sly smile spread over my sister’s face. “He is now a patient at the Belgate Mental Facility. It seems that one night he woke up screaming that he was covered with black widows. He was convinced the spiders were laying eggs in his man part. No one else could see a thing.”
I had no doubt that Pippa was responsible for that particular hallucination. My sister could be particularly sadistic.
“That kind of thing happens at clubs all over the country. I can’t see where Wicked would be any different,” I told her, though I knew perfectly well that a club in Raven Point could be very different. Still, I wasn’t going to let it scare me..
I might be stubborn but so was Pippa. My sister wasn’t about to give up her argument. “I’m telling you, that place is weird.”
“It might be weird but it's one way to get a look at our mysterious neighbor. We do having a missing sister to find,” I reminded her. “It would be better if we went together so that we can watch each other’s backs.”
It made perfect sense to me but not to Pippa.
“Sorry, Sis. I’m going to join the search party tonight but make sure to call me if you start feeling lightheaded. In fact, maybe you shouldn’t even have a drink while you're there.”
For once, Pippa was actually being serious. If Pippa was wary of something, I’d better take it seriously. There weren’t too many things that could put a good scare into my sister, aside from ghosts and skin blemishes. She’d once missed an entire week of school because of an acne breakout on her nose.
Being the loving sister than I am, I did my best to convince her that it was no big deal. I made sure she understood that it was entirely possible her zits would turn to warts and she’d look like a real witch.
Pippa hadn’t liked my way of thinking one bit. Mom had cared for it even less. She claimed that I was stereotyping witches.
I guess I was stereotyping, but not because I actually meant it. My dire prediction had mainly been to freak out my sister.
Chapter 11
Going to any club alone sucks but it’s especially bad when that club has an unsavory reputation. I also had an unsavory reputation but not exactly the same kind. People just thought I had bad blood and was a troublemaker. For years, there had been a nasty rumor that I liked to rip the hearts out of unsuspecting men. They were partly right. I did like to cause trouble, but only if I had to.
Casting a wary eye on the crowd of Goth clientele gathering at the front entrance, I nearly changed my mind.
My sister was such a punk!
What kind of person warns someone of danger and then doesn’t follow up with an offer to help that person overcome said danger?
Pippa! That’s who.
Not only had Pippa rebuffed my idea that we share in the dangers of this little outing, but Kayla had skipped out on me too. I hadn’t heard a peep out of her since we'd visited Shadow Grove.
What did ghosts do when they weren’t busy haunting people?
One day, I’d have to remember to ask her that very question, but I’d save it for one of those times when she was being especially annoying. Kayla didn’t do well with deep subjects. It made me wonder if there was some kind of code among ghosts not to share details with the living.
That was a creepy thought and totally unfair. If they knew what was waiting on the other side, they should share t
hat info.
At least Sam hadn’t deserted me, though he wasn't paying me any attention either. He just stared out the window, seeing something completely invisible to the rest of the world.
I was half tempted to ask my hitchhiking ghost what he did when I wasn’t in the car but that probably fell under the label of subjects ghosts can’t talk about.
Oh well. Maybe I’d bring it up when he was a bit more talkative.
Besides, this was no time to get sidetracked so I shook off the thought and turned my attention to the hot new nightspot everyone was talking about.
Technically, the club was in Raven Point but not in the city center like you’d expect. It was near one of the city parks. The club had been built in an old train tunnel that hadn’t been used in decades. Since officials had rerouted the train, there hadn’t been any need for it.
For as long as I could remember, the tunnel had been blocked off with cement. When we were kids we’d tried to get into the tunnel more than once, but we’d never had much luck.
We did manage to find a crack in the cement wide enough to get a glimpse of what was inside but it had been too dark to see anything, except for once. When I stuck my head into the large crack, a set of red glowing eyes appeared out of nowhere.
My first reaction had been to scream my freaking head off, which I did.
By the time I got my head free of the crack, Pippa and my brothers were already half way to the park.
What a bunch of whiny crybabies!
I’d been the one with my head caught between two slabs of cement and they were the ones screaming. The next time Jasper decided to go alpha on me, I was going to bring up the incident.
The empty field near the tunnel entrance was now a parking lot.
The cement that had once blocked the tunnel’s entrance was now an extra large arched doorway, complete with the kind of heavy wooden doors you’d find in old castles.
The word Wicked branded the entrance in glowing purple neon text that had been attached in such a way that it seemed to float. The effect was pretty damn awesome, like magic.
Magic doesn’t work quite like it is portrayed in Hollywood. Witches and other creatures did have a good grasp on how to use magic, but it is simply a talent for drawing energy from nature for the purpose of shaping an outcome or situation.
Magic is also useful when it comes to holding your own in a fight, like the day in English class when Bitchy Missy dumped a full glass of water in my lap and laughed about it. Needless to say, I tossed a ball of electricity at her that singed her hair nearly to the roots. The school couldn’t actually prove that I’d had anything to do with that freak ball lightning incident, but they suspected. Not only did I get suspended from school for a week, I was ordered to attend anger management sessions.
The maneuver drained me to the point that I’d slept the entire week that I was out of school, which meant there hadn’t been any post-suspension recreation. That sucked. What good was getting suspended from school if you couldn’t use the time to do something awesome, like party at the lake or hex your brothers?
Hexing isn’t all fun and games. It can be dangerous. In any case, there are limits to what a witch can do. For example, a witch can’t actually turn someone into a frog, but they might be able to curse them with leprosy. It was a good thing for some people, namely Jasper, and at the moment, Pippa, that I hadn’t mastered a leprosy hex just yet.
Judging by the number of cars in the parking lot, the place had to be packed.
Where had they come from?
Never mind that. How were they cramming so many people into a tunnel that had been blasted through the middle of a mountain? It wasn’t a small tunnel but it wasn’t massive either.
“Kayla!” I whispered, hoping she was nearby. This would be so much easier if I could send her inside to check it out. I wasn't too sure the old tunnel was safe. In fact, I was surprised the Zone Authority had even sold the property after so many years of it being abandoned.
Since Kayla had apparently gone to radio silence, I wasn’t left with much of a choice. I would have to go in completely unprepared. I had no idea what I'd find, but I was pretty sure those imposing dungeon doors hid all manner of malfeasance.
After all, Pippa had prepared me for as much.
No wonder Shadow Grove was in such disrepair. Petrova had clearly put all his resources into Wicked.
The guy manning the door was a troll, though you’d never know it.
He was tall and burly, much like Bill, except this guy had long blond hair and a beard to match. His hair helped keep his ears from being too noticeable and he was wearing gloves to hide his black fingernails.
Bill had always taped the end of his fingers while working in public. I couldn’t blame him. Gloves could get uncomfortable, especially in the summer.
Walking into Wicked was like walking into a maze of catacombs, complete with the bones of the dead lining the walls. There were arched doorways made of fake skulls, at least I hoped they were fake.
The main chamber was crowded. In fact, there were so many people crammed inside, getting through them was a bit tricky. Considering Wicked was one of only a few nightclubs in the area, the fact that it was packed wasn’t surprising. What I found to be odd was the variety of creatures. They weren’t just any creatures either.
These were creatures that didn’t normally run in the same social circles, like wolves and witches, unless you were a Nash or a Summers. My family did tend to eat at the same dinner table, though not always peacefully.
Still, if the owner of Wicked was okay with it then so was I. As long as no one freaked out on me, I was okay with mixed company.
The red strobe lights and the fog-filled chamber was enough to give me a headache. I didn’t mind the Goth scene but Wicked definitely took it to the next level. I half expected to find a room full of vampire coffins.
I continued to push my way through the wall of people, figuring that sooner or later, I was bound to come across an employee who would know where I could find Petrova. Needless to say, my tendency to get sidetracked took over when I heard a crowd cheering from one of the rear chambers.
As I started in that direction, I noticed a sign.
Wicked Games
What kind of wicked games could that be?
It wasn’t unusual for clubs to sponsor special events. While I’d been at school in Los Angeles, I’d been to my share of Vampire Balls and Hot Guy Auctions.
I purposely tried not to remember the Hot Guy Auction or the Malibu Member Auction, as it had been officially called.
That was one of those nights that I’d consumed way too much Jack and the result hadn’t been pretty. Not only did I wake up broke the next day but the nerdy guy lying beside me swore we’d fallen in love and had even discussed marriage. Thank goodness we were both still dressed, which meant that I most likely hadn’t done anything major that I would regret.
Still, that was the close call that pushed me to moderate my habit of partying too hard. It was also the last time I’d gone to an auction like that.
Putting aside my bad experience with that particular special event, I was still curious to find out what these so-called Wicked Games was about.
As soon as I reached the chamber, which by the way had better lighting than the rest of the joint, I was ready to turn and leave.
There was a crowd gathered around an arena that appeared to be constructed of human bones.
They couldn’t be real human bones.
Could they?
No way! Not even a rich dude with power galore would dare be so brazen.
At least that’s what I told myself. If I let my thoughts drift into those dark places that might involve using human bones as construction material, I would run for the exit.
There were two men in the arena and they both looked pretty dang brutal. Each of them was trying to tear the head off the other.
Since they both had fangs, I figured it was a safe assumption they were vampires or wann
abe vampires. Just to be clear, in the Zone not everyone with fangs is a vampire.
Vampires were actually quite rare, even in paranormal hotspots like the Zones. There were some who paid to have fangs implanted. Not that I am in the habit of judging or anything, but in the Zone, people are not always what they seem to be.
I’d lived in Raven Point all my life and still hadn’t encountered a real vampire. I suspected that was mostly because there were so many wolves in the area. A wolf bite could be deadly to a vampire. At least that’s what people said.
Plus, Raven Point had its share of witches. Witches don’t much care for vampires either. Then again, witches are not fond of most dangerous creatures, with one exception, wicked witches.
Wicked witches have a tendency to delve into the dark arts and those who practice dark magic will always find a way to exploit others.
I resisted the urge to gasp when one of the guys in the ring hit the ground. The other guy was within seconds of victory via tearing his opponents throat out.
Seeing how I don’t have a thing for watching people die, even if that person might technically be already dead, I averted my eyes.
Before I could make a full retreat, a referee pulled the bloodsuckers apart. He then motioned for someone to step into the arena.
A woman made her way to the center of the arena. She was pretty but had an aura about her that was really kind of repulsive. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why the woman’s presence gave me a sick feeling, I just knew I was tempted to find the restrooms and upchuck my dinner.
It couldn’t be the fact that the woman was dressed pretty sleazy since I wasn’t exactly dressed like I was on my way to Sunday school.
I’d borrowed one of Pippa’s outfits. The black leather pants and jacket totally wasn’t me but the style helped me fit in with the rest of the crowd.
The woman's slinky red evening gown sparkled beneath the glare of the lights, which was a nice break from all the black. Everyone seemed to be wearing black.
The barely clothed woman's crimson lipstick matched her gown but was too much of a contrast to her pale complexion.
I had no idea who she was but I did know she wasn’t a bloodsucker. Vampires might be difficult to read but from what I'd heard about them, their aura was distinct from all other creatures. They were sophisticated and calculating with a coldness that practically oozed out of their undead pores.
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