Redemption: The Evolution of Grace: A Nephilim Urban Fantasy (Grace Gamble Trilogy Book 1)
Page 6
"Hey Doctor Page, how are you?" I associated her with needles since she had been sticking me with them since I could remember. Some things never change.
"I asked first, Grace. How are you?" We walked to the lab together, the click-clack of her heels echoing through the empty hall.
“I'm good, fine. Thanks.” I stumbled over my response.
I was not good or fine, thanks. I was a mess, and each day seemed to give me a growing awareness of just how big a mess I was and how big of a mess I'd been making.
“Good, good. Any… incidents? Dizzy spells? Headaches?”
“I don't know, I guess not.” The way she emphasized incidents made me pause.
“Hm, okay.” She glanced at me, then at the clipboard. “I will need you to check off any applicable symptoms before you leave. I'll also be taking your vitals.”
“Sure, no problem.”
"That's a girl."
We entered the lab, and there was my father with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He didn't glance up when we entered, nor did he greet me. The doctor motioned for me to sit down, and she immediately began prepping my arm.
“First, I'll do a draw. We need some additional blood work.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, dear. Routine. I just want to make sure all your levels are good.”
“What levels?”
“Hm, the usual.”
“What's the usual?”
“Hold on, two vials, okay?” She smiled and stuck me.
I leaned my head back and drummed the arm of the chair with my free fingers. I craned around to see my Father. He still hadn't acknowledged me.
I ramped up the cheerfulness, smiling broadly at the doctor as she deftly switched to the second vial. Finally, my father looked up at me, raised his eyebrows and addressed me before going back to his paperwork.
“Grace. Thank you for coming by. You’re two weeks late, but we're not counting.”I sighed loudly. The doctor removed the needle and held a cotton ball in place, still smiling. “That's okay. We're not going anywhere, Grace. You're here now.” She winked. She was silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “When was the first day of your last normal menstrual period?”
“Excuse me?”
“It's a routine question, dear. I ask it every time.
“Uh, yesterday. Thanks for asking.”
“I see.”
“Now, we'll do your injection.”
“So, what is in the injection, exactly?”
She prepped another site with an alcohol pad and, without making eye contact, replied. “It's your own stem cells, dear. We've talked about this numerous times. It will help you with the problems you've been having. The dizziness, the headaches.”
I winced as she inserted the needle. I felt myself growing warmer. I couldn't tell if it was from the injection or the creeping anger. Even though I'd asked for more explanation, even though I'd thought to myself that I maybe didn't want another injection without knowing exactly what was in it, it was done.
I sighed. It was the same every time. Bullshit answers to my questions, and I always just accepted it. Something about my father and Dr. Page made me feel like I was seven years old again. I hated that they had so much power over me.
“Professor?”
“Hmmm?”
“When was the last time you had a student that showed remarkable abilities?”
My Father categorized his students in one of two ways. Remarkable and Unremarkable. I fell into the latter category, as I was so often reminded.
Dr. Page stopped her paperwork and looked up at me, then at my father.
“What makes you ask that question, Grace?”
“Just curious. I was wondering what the new crop of kids has going on. Are they Remarkable, father? Or are they like me?”
I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. Nor could I control the rising feelings of frustration and anxiety. My chest was tight and my throat dry. I needed to get out of there.
My father took off his glasses and lowered his head to look at me directly. “The Academy encourages its students to focus on contributions to humanity via service and humility. Magical powers and uses of force or manipulation are frowned upon. You know this.”
“Are you serious? You're going to sell me that canned bullshit you give to the council?”
“Grace Gamble! Is that how you talk to your father?” Dr. Page admonished, her well-groomed eyebrows raising above her glasses.
I groaned in frustration. “I'm not ten years old, Doctor. I know you guys have been waiting for a kid to show up with abilities you can hone, you can harness. I know you've been waiting for that unicorn Nephilim so you can study them! You hoped it would be me, and it wasn't. I'm asking, have you found them? Did you get your unicorn?”
Page still looked alarmed by my sudden outburst, but my father's expression was thoughtful. “I'm not sure where this is coming from, Grace, but the answer to your question is no.”
He paused for a moment and replaced his spectacles. I clammed up at that point, I wasn't about to give up Ethan's secret, but there had to be a way to get more information out of him. As though he read my mind, he continued.
“Is there something you'd like to tell me?”
“No. I've gotta go. Always a pleasure, Dr. Page. I'll see you guys in a couple weeks I guess.”
I grabbed my purse and headed out the door as fast as I could without running, not waiting for any goodbyes on their part.
In the safety of my car, I checked my phone. Harry.
Hey, haven't heard from you. Chuck gave me a call.
He's worried about you. Should I be?
Then, a few minutes later.
I would absolutely come over for dinner sometime.
It never ends. I knew Chuck wanted the best for me, and I knew he worried. But interference was hitting me from all sides.
I messaged him back.
I'll probably see you tonight, at the bar.
I'll bring pizza.
***
I parked my car at the church then made my way on foot toward Harry's. A steady drizzle began to fall around me, and I zipped up my jacket and pulled my frizzing hair into a knot, cursing myself for not bringing an umbrella, or at least a more suitable jacket.
Halfway between the church and the bar, I came upon a man propped against the corner of the building, lean and tall, with his head down. I moved to the outer edge of the sidewalk to give him a wider berth. He was probably just some drunk asshole. As soon as I was within spitting distance of him, my radar went off.
He glanced up from his phone and grinned right at me. It was that goddamn Blaine kid. He tipped an imaginary hat and watched me walk past, his eyes dancing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I walked past. The bar was within my sight, but now it all seemed like a terrible idea. I wasn't afraid of this Cambion, not at all. But I was afraid for Harry and hoped that I wasn't the one responsible for the recent influx of demon-kind in, and around, the bar.
Once I was about five paces past him, he spoke. “Evening, Miss Gamble. See you around.”
I turned on my heel, prepared to confront him, but he was gone.
It was a slow night at Harry's. There were three other patrons at the bar, and maybe a dozen spread around the tables and booths. The jukebox slammed out Nirvana's Come as You Are, and by the time I reached the barstool, my beer was waiting for me.
Harry winked and mouthed, I'll be right there.
I was unsettled from my encounter with bastard Blaine and not sure if being at the bar was such a good idea. How does he know me? I'm no one. Why acknowledge me? For what reason? To intimidate me?
Harry made his way over to me. “Hey, Grace.”
“it’s been a hell of a day.”
“Yeah, what happened?”
“Everything. My Dad is killing me. There are sick jerks out there. The world's going to hell. I don't know what's going on with me. You know. The usual.”
Harry froze for a split second. I whirled around and saw the problem. They were a beautiful couple in an edgy sort of way. She was a tattooed brunette wearing skintight black jeans and a sleeveless tee. He was tall with long hair and a goatee and looked like a refugee from a nineties grunge band. Their undulating dark auras intermingled, the inner layers a pulsating amber color. They looked thirsty.
I frowned and watched as the little bit of light in the room ebbed with their presence, and the parasites writhed in pleasure at the arrival of the half-breeds.
Ugh, Cambion. Perfect.
I wondered if these were friends of Gregory, but somehow, I didn't think so. Gregory struck me as a loner, and I had a feeling he didn't hang out much with his own kind. Why were these guys in the bar? Just like witches and fae, they had their own haunts. This was a human bar, and their presence wasn't safe.
I watched in bitter amusement as the other patrons gawked at the Cambions. Humans are easily impressed losers. The female tossed her thick hair, turned toward me, and winked. I rolled my eyes, gave her my best fuck you smile, and went back to my beer.
“What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” The male sidled up to me, reeking of pot and swaying uncomfortably close to me.
His amber aura shrank due to my proximity, but it caused a wave of nausea in me just the same. We were like oil and water, yet here he was, standing close to me with an expression on his face I couldn't quite read.
“That's what you're going to come at me with? Wow. Real original, pal.”
He laughed, then eyed me again, “You think you're so special? You're a mutt, just like me. Sitting in a seedy bar drinking away your troubles. Your kind is on borrowed time. Us? We're here to stay, baby.” He looked me up and down. “You know who can help you?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him and waited. I'd never had a cambion strike up any type of conversation with me. They either couldn't get out of my presence fast enough, or they were trying to kill me. There was no in-between.
This was weird.
“You got me, who?”
“Jesus.” He burst out laughing, and I sighed in exasperation.
He stopped for a moment and feigned a thoughtful expression, tugging at his goatee. “The good Reverend Billy Blaine tells the sheep to embrace their true nature. Maybe you should try doing the same.”
I recoiled slightly at the mention of the Rev.
He grinned again. “It's never too late to repent, you know.”
With that, he turned back to his female, and I couldn't help but stare at her for a moment. She had full lips, smokey eyes, and flawless porcelain skin. She knew she was hot, and so did he. They had an air of superiority to them. Something my kind had lost. It infuriated me.
I actually felt my skin start to burn.
The Cambion turned back to me. This time his aura expanded. He broke into a wide grin and tipped his drink at me in a salute.
Harry slid the female her drink and started to walk away, but the male motioned him back over. I tensed up, not fearing for myself, but for him. Harry strode over to the male, confident and easy, but inside I knew he had to be on high alert.
“Seer. That your girl over there?”
I gulped. He called him Seer.
Harry took it in stride. “None of your business, Cambion.”
Jesus, Harry.
The cambion leaned in toward Harry and raised his hand to the side of his mouth, so I couldn't see him speak. The female looked at me, eyes glowing as a grin spread across her face, showing her sharpened canines. I strained to hear him but between the music and the noise coming from the other patrons, there was no way.
I watched Harry's face for a clue.
He frowned, glanced at me, and back at the Cambion, a look of honest confusion on his face. The Cambion straightened up, downed his drink, and took the female's hand, helping her off the stool like a gentleman. He led her out of the bar and turned back to look at me with glowing, dancing eyes.
“What the hell did he say to you, Harry?”
He shook his head. “Weird ass dude. I don't know.”
“You don't know what he said?”
“Yeah, I know what he said.”
I sputtered in exasperation. “Well, what the hell did he say?”
Harry paused and chewed on his lip for a moment.
I was getting irritated.
“He said, tell your girlfriend her slip is showing.”
“Wha—”
“Yeah, that's what he said. Your slip is showing. What does that mean?”
I shook my head. “I have no clue. But I do know that I need to stay away from this bar. I'm sorry, Harry. I can't be here anymore.”
“Wait!”
“No, no waiting. It's a fact. My being here puts you in danger. I'm going to get Luz over here tomorrow to strengthen the ward on this place. Actually, you need a witch here to really fortify it. I don't trust just a ward.”
Harry looked at me with disbelief. “You're really going to let those assholes intimidate you? They were just stirring the pot. They were already hammered and high as fuck, stumbled into my bar, and you know what? They’ve probably already forgotten about you, me, and this place.”
I glanced down the bar, feeling the impatient stares of the patrons. Harry ignored them. I could tell he was upset, but I just couldn't keep putting him in danger.
“I don't think so, Harry. Gregory the cambion bastard was just a block or two down the street when I got here, and he called me by name. This is a problem, and I'm not coming back.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth. My face was flushed, and my chest felt tight. Next, I felt numbness in my face and hands.
Uh-oh. I need to go home. I need to go home. I slid off the barstool, muttering that I would call him later.
“Grace, are you seriously leaving now? What the fuck?”
“I just need to get out of here, now.” I looked him in the eye, silently pleading with him to just let me go. I didn't want this to dissolve into a fight.
“Fine, fine. You okay?”
I sighed. “Yes. I'm okay.”
“Grace… What did he mean? What the hell was he talking about? Do you know?”
I lifted my hands in a shrug. I honestly didn't know.
I left, zipping up my jacket as I leaned into the wind. Tiny, razor-sharp droplets stung my face as I made my way back to my car. I rarely looked forward to being home, but tonight was an exception. I'd been gone all day, and all I could think about was a nice, warm, drama-free couch.
Two cars sped past me, launching a torrent of oil-slicked water to soak my jeans and boots. Lovely. A third car approached, then slowed to a near stop. My chest tightened, and my belly clenched. My body recognized the danger before my thoughts could catch up. I turned to see a black sedan, windows tinted, rolling past me. I made a conscious effort not to slow or quicken my pace. I faced forward and walked, prepared to fight if need be… or flee.
I didn't have to do either. The car rolled past and picked up speed. I watched the taillights for as long as I could, making sure they didn't flip a bitch or turn down the next street to swing back around.
What was that about? Could've just been some douchebags looking for someone to harass, but they would have rolled the window down and yelled something stupid or tried to get me in the car. No, this was different. Was it Gregory? No, I would have felt it. His kind might set off an alarm, but that's all it was. A blip on the radar. No, this was something... darker.
This was a genuine threat.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out and nearly tripped on the pavement while I was at it. I felt uneasy, distracted, and jarred. I glance
d at the text, expecting more arguments from Harry or even just something sweet to smooth things over, but it was Darah.
We found bodies in San Francisco.
Burned… at the stake.
Witches.
It's going to be a long week. When are you coming back to work?
The exorcism business is about to be booming.
My teeth chattered, and my hands felt numb. The darkness around me felt smothering, and I picked up my pace, longing for the safety of my four walls. I felt it coming. Something big.
I was five minutes from my car. I'd text back when I got there. As I walked that last block, every car driving by felt like a potential threat. I clenched my jaw and felt a coldness deep in my bones. I didn't have visions or magic like Luz. I didn't see the things that Harry did. I didn't have the power to open or close the gates to the Otherworld like Ayana or Mina. I wasn't as smart as Darah.
But I knew damn well when the shit was about to hit the fan.
Chapter seven
I woke to several texts from Chuck, a missed call from Darah, and nothing from Harry. I felt bad about having rushed out of there last night, but he was used to my dysfunction by now. I struggled sometimes with letting him in and letting myself let go.
Whatever, I don't know where this is going. Maybe nowhere. Hell, maybe I don't even want to be in a relationship.
That was a lie, of course. But I didn't have time for self-examination.
I brewed some coffee, smoked a cigarette and pulled out my laptop. I checked my phone and logged on to the CDT site. I had access to the boards and some low-clearance research and texts. Nothing I could really sink my teeth into.
Darah had mid-level clearance because she was an investigator. I made a note to remember to ask her to do some poking around for me.
I typed Gregory Blaine into the search bar. I frowned when the search came back with no matches. Gregory would be too vague. I typed in Billy Blaine and started sifting through the various entries and reports.
While I waited for my info, I punched up Chuck's number to return his call, muttering expletives while my slow-as-hell laptop failed to deliver the goods in a timely manner.
“Hey kid, you're up early. What's going on?”