Plagued: Book 1

by Eden Crowne

  Remembering my mission, I reluctantly tore myself away from the VIP zone. A couple of weeks ago I would have been sitting there with them while my supposed friends sipped their cocktails and licked their lips over my soul.

  “Move on, Lexie,” I chided myself. That was then, this is now.

  Some of the Awesome Posse showed up. No surprise there. This was precisely their sort of thing and, as I'd observed before, foreigners almost never got carded in Tokyo. On my nights out with the Club, I often saw girls who couldn't have been out of middle school crowding popular clubs.

  Standing a little apart from the group was the most awesome member of the Awesome Posse, Amber Lynne McCarthy herself. She was wearing a tiny, strapless red dress, held on by a wish, a prayer and some double-sided sticky tape. Boy-toy Tony was not in evidence. Perhaps she was looking for an upgrade. She saw me as well. Her eyes widened and she turned pointedly away. Tossing back the drink in her hand, she waved the bartender over for another.

  My phone buzzed and I was not entirely surprised to get a flurry of texts from the younger kami, Taka. We'd been talking off and on ever since my visit to Meiji Shrine. Or rather, he texted me about a hundred different things squeezed in at once and I tried to keep up. Despite asking him repeatedly, the kami refused to elaborate on his comment about me not being strictly human.

  He wanted to come to the party: smiley face, smiley face.

  “Julian and I are working!” I texted.

  The un-smiley face came back in triplicate.

  Around midnight, Julian got his wish. Savan strolled past the DJ booth and up to the bar. I spotted him immediately. Maybe felt him was closer to the sensation that slithered snakelike across my nervous system. My senses seemed sharper since my birthday: sight, smell, hearing, plus something else, something I could not explain logically. I just knew he had arrived. He glanced across the room, sizing up the crowd and our eyes met. A look of shock passed briefly over his features before he could compose himself. Pull that smiling mask firmly back in place. I started to make my way along the crowded bar over to him when Amber Lynne stepped in front of me, blocking my path, an oversized martini glass in one hand and cigarette dangling in the other.

  “You think you're so great, don't you Tod?” The words were slurred. This must have been her third or fourth drink. “Going to be the new queen of the school,” she gestured with the glass and some of the liquid sloshed out. “Everybody's darling.” She pushed me with the hand holding the cigarette, stabbing with her forefinger and dropping ash on the beautiful Betsey Johnson.

  I felt a power I never knew was in me. Maybe it was Julian's concoction powering me up. Whatever, it radiated out like a shock wave from an explosion and Amber Lynne was standing at ground zero. Her face changed as the wave of energy hit her. The glass fell from her fingers shattering on the hard, wooden floor. She put that hand in front of her as though to ward off a blow, backing away. I grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her closer.

  “Listen to me you stupid, selfish, egotistical idiot. Evil is out there looking for you, Amber Lynne McCarthy. If you're not careful, it will find you and eat you alive.” Leaving her standing, face flushed, I stalked over to my ex-boyfriend and stood in front him, my hands on my hips.

  “Alexandra, darling girl! You are safe. I have been so worried.”

  I slapped him, hard. “You bastard, you left me! Everything you told me was a lie!”

  He grabbed my wrist as I moved to slap him again. For the briefest moment, I saw something very dangerous flicker across his face before the expression passed and he composed himself to look at me contritely, his big brown eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

  “Just drop the innocent boyfriend act. Julian told me all about you.” I tried to twist my arm out of his grasp, but he held it firmly.

  “Julian? Julian who?”

  “Julian Lake.” It was only after I said it that I remembered his presence was supposed to be a secret. Damn.

  “Of course, of course, Julian Lake. Yes, we know. That's why we have been staying away from you.”

  He was working hard to cover the slip. I was pretty sure he had no idea what Julian I was talking about at first.

  “Lake. That madman isn't after you, he came for Vanessa. Really. She was in London a couple of years ago and became friends with that girl connected to Julian. Carol or Karen or something. He couldn't accept her wasting away from illness, the anemia. No one's fault. People have to blame somebody, right? Now he is fixated on Vanessa and anyone she befriends. Tracked her here to Tokyo and his naughty list includes me, Anders, Lilly, whoever. We're guilty by association.” Savan spoke in a low, sonorous voice. The voice I remembered whispering “I love you” in my ear, the voice that talked to me, beguiling away the hours over the past few months. Late night conversations of hushed feelings and shared secrets, the little intimacies tying me to him with silken threads.

  “We haven't seen him for some months. Must have gone off his medication or something. The boy has a Romeo and Juliet complex. Alexandra, he is a dangerous stalker who has made Vanessa's life miserable. All our lives. We got away from you as soon as we saw him. For your own safety, of course. As long as he doesn't think you are part of the group...” His voice trailed off.

  “Well, he found me. What now?”

  “You need to come with me, I hoped that by removing myself and the others, it would keep you safe. Obviously that has not worked.” He pulled me close, wrapping me tightly in his arms. “Come. I can protect you, care for you. You must leave this in my hands now. No one can care for you better than I. God, you still smell so delicious, even after.”

  “After what?”

  He didn't answer; only holding me closer. “You still have one secret left to take. One that could be all mine.”

  His voice was so sincere. The touch of his hands on my skin sent a thrill along every nerve. Being with him opened up feelings, longings, I had kept firmly hidden away since that awful morning of my awakening. Savan had meant so much to me, it was, is, still a physical longing. How could I bear to part from him forever? That handsome, familiar face smiled into mine. Bending forward, he cupped my chin, kissing my forehead, my cheeks. “Alexandra, dearest, my love, come away with me.”

  My mind whirled in confusion. Who was fooling who? Was Julian really just some whack-job psychotic stalker? It could be possible, it could. Everything Savan said made more sense in my world, the real world, than anything that had ever come out of Julian's mouth.

  “It's drugs. He's drugged you. Whatever you think you saw. It wasn't real. Come with me,” whispered Savan again, so seductively, so compellingly. “My darling.”

  The world seemed to fade as I stared at Savan, that brush of curls across his forehead, the full, sensuous mouth whispering endearments. Something I needed to do, something I needed to remember. What was it? There was a movement somewhere in front of me. Tearing my eyes away from Savan, I looked over his shoulder. Across the club, like a magnet, I was drawn to Julian's stare. His green eyes burned into mine even at this distance. With that look, I remembered everything: frail Keiko turning to dust in his arms. The anguish in his face at that moment. You can't fake that with drugs.

  “I, I don't feel well. I'll be right back. Wait for me.” I squirmed out of Savan's arms and snaked through the crowd of people towards the girls' bathroom before he could hold me back.

  The restrooms were reached through a set of thick draperies. Julian stood almost hidden in their heavy folds.

  “Savan says you're crazy; he says you're a stalker,” I stammered, the words falling out in a rush as I reached him. “You're dangerous, psychotic. That you drugged me.”

  He gripped my arms so hard, I yelped. “Focus, stupid girl!”

  Shaking me until my head hurt, the girls waiting in line for the bathroom turned and stared. He yanked me behind the drapes, out of sight. We were standing in a little corner alcove, the light just filtering through.

  “Savan is putting a glamour on you
. It is like hypnosis for the supernaturally gifted. A vital part of how the Club kept you enthralled to them. He will make you believe what he says is somehow right and you are wrong. Snap out of it. He is a devil.”

  “As are you, I remember you saying.”

  A look of pain passed across his features of such honesty that I flinched. “A monster. I said I was a monster. But I am your monster, Alexandra. At least for now.”

  Staring into his eyes, that terrifying gaze I found so difficult to meet head on, Savan's glamour melted away. Julian had a strength that went far beyond the surface allure of Savan. Not that he wasn't beautiful in his own right. Huddled there, the music beating into my brain, I felt everything subtly shift. Not in my head and not physically; somewhere else deep inside. There was an undercurrent to the atmosphere between us here in this hot, stuffy alcove, tugging insistently at me. It was trying to pull me towards some realization. I wished he'd smile at me, reassure me that everything was going to be fine. He wouldn't though. His handsome mouth twisting into a superior sneer, he would say “Don't be stupid.” There was, though, a bond between us. He could sense my thoughts and feelings. Did that mean I could sense his as well?

  Someone passed by our alcove, brushing the curtains, and he went very still, looking out through a sliver of space. I used that moment to reach out. Clumsy and awkward as my attempt was, I could feel a wave of emotions roll off Julian. A little hazy and undefined, yet still there. Anticipation, maybe? Excitement. No fear. Unlike me. Definitely no fear at all. He turned back and my concentration broke.

  “I told him about you.”

  “Yes, I gathered that. Careless. No matter. It will make him determined to learn everything you know about my movements. We need to get Savan outside and away from the crowd. He will follow, wanting to keep you close. Walk to the wharf and then one street back. There are several blocks of warehouses there. Deserted at this hour.”

  “What shall I say?”

  He made a face. “Do I have to tell you how to do everything? You're a girl. Use your feminine charms. You are exceedingly charming.”

  I stared at him, surprised. He thought I was charming. Was he actually paying me a compliment? Where did that come from?

  He pressed something into my hand.

  “Hold this and squeeze it when you are near him.”

  I looked at what lay in my palm. A small, sharp crystal, shadowed and indistinct in the semi-darkness. “Is it magical? Is it witchcraft?”

  He gave me one of his familiar exasperated looks. “No, it is sharp. The pain will keep you alert. Really, the idiotic things you say.” Pulling the curtains aside, he stepped away, leaving me in the shadows with my sharp stone and muddled thoughts.

  Chapter 27

  Bi-Polar Bare

  Savan took out an oversized brush and painted a spell in the air. The brush was like the kind used for calligraphy, beautifully formed with a tapered head. He shouted words that snapped and crackled into sparks in the dark. The hairs on the brush transformed, going from dry to dripping with ink. Savan's eyes turned black, just like in my dreams. Furiously he began painting strange interconnecting symbols. Of course it was magic, the symbols hanging in the air, wet and shiny.

  Julian rolled by grappling with two hairy, long-armed goblins. He shouted my name. “Alexandra! Stop him! Stop him from painting!”

  Things had not gone quite as planned after we left the party.

  Or maybe this was the plan. My experience in magical entrapment being somewhat limited and all. I was teetering on the crest of a supernatural learning curve that was proving extraordinarily slippery. One slip and maybe I wouldn't have to worry about dust.

  Luring Savan out was easy. He was so obviously confident in his hold over me. Easy, too, steering him towards the street of warehouses. I hung on his arm and pretended to be weary and confused. Actually, my heart was jumping in my chest as I squeezed Julian's sharp little stone in my other hand, willing myself not to be beguiled by Savan's voice and touch.

  Julian leaped out from one of the alley's between the massive warehouse buildings in a sort of “A ha!” Kung-Fu movie move. Instead of cowering in terror, Savan snapped his fingers. A gang of hairy goblins (at least that's what they looked like to me) swarmed down from the warehouse roof, throwing themselves on top of Julian.

  That was pretty much where we were right now.

  From the tip of Savan's brush, symbols flowed, glowing like embers in the darkness. A keening wail grew louder and louder and the glowing embers began to look uncannily like eyes.

  “Stop him!” Julian shouted again.

  Stop him how, precisely? Savan was, as I had admiringly observed many times, something like six-foot-two, and built on male supermodel proportions. I searched wildly for some sort of weapon. Besides a cluster of weeds at my feet, there didn't seem to be anything portable within reach. Wait, my feet! Taking off one three-inch heel, I raised it over my head and with all my strength, smashed the improvised weapon into the back of Savan's perfectly sculpted neck. The heel cut through flesh and I felt a sickening sort of squish.

  Crying out in pain and surprise, he lashed out viciously with his free arm. The blow knocked me to my knees.

  “Bitch!” he snarled, lips curling, the blood streaming from his neck to stain the immaculate white shirt red. His eyes shifted back from black to brown as he lost his concentration. Leaning over, he slapped me hard. I tried to deflect the blow with my forearm, but it was still strong enough to knock me all the way to the ground. On my back, I kicked out desperately, defiantly, with my remaining shoe right into the side of his knee at the joint. There was a nasty creaking sound. Savan screamed again even louder. Scrambling up, I grabbed the brush from his hand and throwing off the other shoe, took off running like I had never run before. In front of me, tantalizingly close, a busy thoroughfare was alive with people, taxis, and cars. I could see it, if I could just reach it.

  So close.

  Not close enough.

  There was a wrenching pull to my head and I lost my footing. Savan towered over me, his hand tangled in my hair, his handsome face twisted and ugly with rage. He dragged me kicking and struggling, back into the shadows. I held on, desperately trying to keep him from pulling my hair out by the roots, screaming and shouting for help. The warehouses, huge, gray and squat, seemed to muffle all sound. No one came. He threw me against the closed metal shutters of one of the buildings, the corrugated metal rattling and creaking. My head spun and I thought I would be sick.

  “You couldn't just go quietly into that dark night could you? No, you had to fight. Make trouble.”

  “Gee, sorry,” I gasped out. “Sorry not to roll over and die so the Club could eat my soul! What was I thinking?”

  The charm melted from him like butter off a hot knife, revealing the sharp edge of something ugly and cruel. Reaching around my throat with one hand, he squeezed. “Can't you just die like a good girl? You should have been dead days ago.”

  “You can't kill me,” I wheezed. “Not yet. The other's need me alive so the soul magic can run its course.”

  “That doesn't mean I can't cause you a lot of pain.”

  The menace in his eyes was something I had never imagined. You read in books about evil, never thinking to come face-to-face with it, especially in a face you know and trust. I'd kissed those lips again and again. He shoved me once more, hard, against the shutters. Cracking my head, I saw stars. My legs gave way and the world spun dizzily.

  Savan stepped away probably thinking I'd be sick and not wanting to get his expensive suit dirty.

  There was a horrible yowl and a piercing scream. I saw one of the long-armed goblins in a heap at Julian's feet. He held two others at bay with his jagged knife. He was still too far away to help.

  Savan raised the calligraphy brush. He was going to paint again, calling forth something terrible. I tried to crawl away on my hands and knees, unable to get to my feet. He dragged me back by my hair, threw me to the ground and raised a fis
t.

  “What's all this then?” came a crisp voice in a British accent out of nowhere.

  Savan paused, fist up, brush floating in the air by him, to stare.

  The lead singer from the Albert Einsteins was standing a few feet away, hands on his hips, rocking back and forth on the heels of his designer boots. The past week had been very strange but nothing seemed stranger than seeing the front man of one of the hottest bands in the world here in a dark alley seething with magic and mayhem, as calm as could be.

  “Can't have you knocking girls about, mate. Just not done, that. Not done at all. What would your mother say?”

  “Run! Run away!” My voice came out as little more than a cracked whisper. “He'll kill you.”

  To my astonishment, the singer smiled and said, “Will he now?”

  Savan grabbed the brush, slashing at the air furiously. Hideous shadows took form in its wake.

  Faster than the eye could follow, the singer stood between us. Pulling me up, he pressed me back against the rough metal gate.

  “Stay there.”

  From inside his sleeves two knives as long as my forearm shot out into his hands. Savan stepped back, swearing in surprise, distancing himself from the bright blades.

  Darkness rushed out on clawed feet and I screamed. Bringing the knives up, the singer fought back against the darkness. Blood arced up and out to splatter against the walls making artful, terrible designs. I don't know where the memory came from, but I remembered my first email from Savan. He told me he just read a book on overcoming phobias.

  “Spiders,” I shouted, “if you've got any magic, he hates spiders.”