The Ripple Effect

by J. A. Saare

  “You’re right, I did, and it was a mistake.” He didn’t get angry or riled up. Instead he sounded like a tired, worn out owner of a strip club. “Do you know why I hired Deena?”

  The question threw me for a second, and I scrambled to keep up with the redirection of the conversation. “No, I never asked.”

  “She used to dance for me.”

  The surprises just didn’t stop coming. Deena? A stripper? Yeah right.

  “You’re joking.”

  “No, it’s not a joke,” he said. “She was damned good at it and brought it a lot of money, but she hated it. I could tell by the way she mingled with the crowd. She never came out in skimpy nighties, and she was always relieved when she could go backstage. When I asked her about it, she told me that taking off her clothes humiliated her. She only did it because she needed the steady cash. So when we lost a bartender, I offered her the job. After that, she took over the schedule and other things. I thought it was a good idea, until a few years ago when I realized only four men are inside the club in a given night—including me. That’s not a good number for security reasons. Business is good, and the amount of people we have coming through our doors every night means it’s time for a change.”

  “I think you’re upset over what happened tonight. Hiring a man”—I inhaled sharply, angry at how sexist this situation was—“to do my work won’t change anything. This had nothing to do with me or how I perform my job.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It has everything to do with your job.” He flicked on the heater and warm air whispered against my face and burned my eyes. “You work in my club—an exotic club—and you’re a woman.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “A man won’t have the same issues you do. He can come in, do his job, and clock out. Since you’re a bartender and not one of the girls on stage, you’re not escorted to your car or given the same courtesy of the dancers who are known to get a stalker or two.”

  “Then give me an escort.”

  “There it is, the reason I’ve decided it has to be this way.” He took one hand off the wheel and rubbed his neck. “We don’t have the resources. With five dancers a night, Cletus and Butch can’t be expected to do more. Their time is already tight.”

  “I don’t want to lose my job, Hector.” I knew I sounded desperate, but damn it, I didn’t care. “I need it. Do you understand?”

  It’s the only place I feel safe.

  “I’m sorry, it’s already done. I made some calls while I waited. New bartenders will be coming this evening.” He glanced at me and produced a weak smile. “Don’t worry. I’m going to pay you for two weeks’ work. That’s more than enough cash to get you by until you find exactly what you’re looking for.” He took a deep breath and said, “You need to be in a new environment, around new people. You’re young, smart and have your entire life ahead of you. The change will do you good.”

  “What did Deena say?” I sounded like a scorned child, hoping her sister would help her gang up on the unfortunate parent who wouldn’t give her what she wanted. “I’m sure she loved hearing about men who can perform her job better than she can.”

  “She didn’t mention it, actually. We talked, I promised to help her find a full-time position at a restaurant during the day, and that was that. She’s not as young as she used to be, and she likes the idea of getting a job during normal hours.”

  “She has no problem with it?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s done.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but just like everything with Hector, his silence indicated his decision wasn’t open to discussion.

  Son of a bitch, it wasn’t fair. Every single thing that was mine was turning to ash and vanishing in the wind. I was good at my job. It was something I looked forward to, sad as that was. I liked being around people who were as messed up as me, so I didn’t feel like the only fuck up living in New York.

  “Fuck a restaurant. I’ll find another club.” I tried to act nonchalant. “You don’t own the only tittie bar in town.”

  “Good luck.” He kept his gaze on the road. “Since they encourage employees to dress like strippers, do belly shots, and get inebriated with guests, you won’t last long.”

  Damn you, Hector Fernandez.

  Of course he was right. I made it at The BP because my boss, unlike other assholes, didn’t want his staff to whore themselves off unless it was on the stage or in the champagne room.

  By the time he pulled up to my apartment, I was good and pissed. Like a short and stout teapot, I wondered if my ears were steaming. I yanked off my seatbelt, threw open the door, and started to climb out when my temper got the better of me.

  “I’m dealing with a lot right now, but when it’s taken care of I’m swinging by your office for a chat. This discussion isn’t over.”

  “Don’t even think about it. This is it. The end of the road. You step one foot inside my club and I’ll have you escorted from the premises.” He wouldn’t look at me, and that told me all I needed to know. I could scream, I could plead, I could fight and beg, but my job would still be gone.

  “Goodbye, jodona,” he said softly. “If you think of a place you’re interested in, have them call me. I’ll do everything I can to help. You’ll find the money I promised you in an envelope in your duffel, and you can keep the cell I got you until the contract expires. I’ll keep the service active until then.”

  I finished climbing out, closed the door and watched him drive away.

  Rhiannon’s Law #29: Never get too comfortable. Just when you think the hammock is swinging in the breeze, a hurricane comes along, knocks you on your ass, and slaps you around. When you think it’s safe to relax, it usually isn’t, so sleep with one eye open.

  My eyes burned but I refused to cry. The only thing that was truly mine was gone, shattered into a million pieces. The bar was my escape, a place to call my own. As much as I bitched about working there, I didn’t want to imagine not being able to walk through the doors, greet the dancers, and go on with my life as usual.

  The walk to my apartment felt strange, like a trippy acid dream. I tried to detach myself from the truth, pushing the issue aside until I was ready to deal with it. Despite what many people think, it’s not always a good thing that one event leads to another, that something happens to steer you in another direction so you have no choice but to venture to other doors to see what lurks behind them. Because behind each one is a mystery, something that could be good or bad.

  Given my circumstances, I wasn’t willing to take the risk either way.

  Chapter Eleven

  I contemplated calling Disco and telling him what had happened since a trip to his home wasn’t possible, but facing him and his maker would have to wait. It was nearing eight o’clock after I walked into my apartment, took a shower and made some coffee. By the time I collected my things, grabbed something to eat and hit the door, I had just enough time to meet Sonja at the warehouse.

  A lost soul needed my help to find his way home.

  Since I couldn’t contact the boss, I chose to call Goose. When his cell rolled over to voicemail, I left a message and told him all of the important details—leaving out the assistance I’d received from Bane, of course—and informed him I’d take a cab as soon as I finished an important errand. I did ask him to tell Disco I was sorry and I would get home as soon as I could.

  A small bit of brown nosing never did anyone any harm.

  The cold morning air meant I had to wrap myself up in a leather coat, but I was able to forgo gloves. I removed the dagger from the UPS box, shoved the sheathed blade into the back of my pants and covered it with my sweater. I also made sure to collect my other tools of the trade, sliding my butterfly knife and rosary into my pocket before I retrieved the amulet.

  The whopping amount of cash in the envelope given to me by Hector prompted me to call a cab instead of traveling by some other method. Two thousand dollars was far more than I’d make at the club a
fter Deena and I split tips. If my former employer wanted to soften the blow with green, I’d let him. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t do exactly what I’d told him. When things settled I would return to the club, talk to him and attempt to get my job back. Even if that didn’t work, I would be able to plead my case. A rash decision wouldn’t go over well with the dancers, and Cletus and Butch were probably as unhappy with Hector’s choice as I was.

  Or so I hoped.

  Thanks to the cabbie I flagged down, I made it to the warehouse with ten minutes to spare. He glanced around the area, obviously concerned about leaving me behind. The decrepit zone wasn’t a bad place, but it wasn’t known for being entirely safe, either.

  “You want me to wait?”

  I shook my head and tried to feign a cheery smile. “It might take a while. I’ll call when I’m finished.”

  Since he didn’t ask a second time after I paid the fare, I figured he was probably happy I’d declined. He didn’t seem thrilled to be in this area. It made sense. Only the stragglers and drug dealers came to this end of town. That was why it was so safe for deviants to use when they needed a place to lay low for a while.

  It was only a few yards to the backdoor of the warehouse, but it felt much shorter. My heart throbbed as I came closer to the building I’d been trapped, tormented, and nearly killed inside. I never intended to return to this place.

  After I opened the door and took a cautious step into the building, I paused. Sonja was waiting with a large metal cage containing a chicken and a small pet container that I couldn’t see the inside of, looking over a notebook and gnawing on her bottom lip. She was dressed casually in her school attire, jeans and a NYU sweatshirt. She closed the notebook with a plop and placed it inside her backpack.

  “What is the chicken for?” I stared at the cage and the animal inside.

  “I’ve tried to do this before without a sacrifice, and it didn’t work.” She tossed the backpack over her shoulder, picked up the cage and grasped the handle to the pet carrier.

  “What’s in the other one?”

  She shook her head, maneuvering so I couldn’t view the contents. “You’ll see.”

  I followed her as she turned and started the trek to the basement. Disco had carried me through the building after my near death experience, but I’d been too out of it to really pay attention. Since Sonja had entered with him and knew the way, I let her take me down a couple of narrow hallways until we reached a landing of stairs. The dark interior of the building felt as if it was closing in on me, and I forced myself to breathe slowly and keep focused.

  A few ghosts stopped to watch as we passed. Some were squatters, others were victims of crimes that had taken place in the building. Despite their presence, I soldiered on. Maybe I’d come back and help a few of them find peace. I could see it in their expressions, the way they looked at Sonja and me. They knew what we could do. Ghosts could sense us just as strongly as we could sense them. The big difference was that while I could see the ghosts as actual souls and not entities, Sonja could not. The amulet had opened something inside of me, granting me the ability to view them as more than spirits.

  It wasn’t long until we made it to the room where Kibwe—the child vampire I was forced to destroy—brought me when he decided he wanted to play cannibal. My eyes flittered across the area. The silver chains he used, as well as the circle around the place he murdered his victims, were undisturbed. The table and chair I remembered were also there, as well as a mirror that wasn’t present during my entrapment.

  Enormous brown stains stood out against the dark concrete floor, a mixture of mine and Kibwe’s blood. A shiver ran down my spine when I glanced at the wall. There were no more heavenly rays, no more angelic music beseeching me to enter the beautiful white light that promised to heal me, protect me, and keep me safe.

  “Here is how this is going to work,” Sonja said, placing the cages on the floor. “Since Baxter is in limbo, there’s a very strong possibility we won’t be able to see him if he returns to the room. That requires a level of dark magic we do not have.”

  “That’s what the chicken is for?” Sacrifice and dark magic went together like peas and carrots.

  “Not exactly.”

  She walked to the wall, squatted down, and opened the backpack. After she’d pulled her hair into a low ponytail, she retrieved a vial of salt and a knife. She stashed the salt under one arm and placed the knife under the other.

  So the chicken was doomed to die today. I figured as much.

  “I’ve been doing my homework, but I need to know what you’re planning to do here.” I glanced at the circle painted on the floor. More than likely, we’d have to use it. I didn’t like that idea at all. Too many vampires had died inside the pasty and now cracking white ring.

  “Before we start, I’m going to summon a demon.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like she was ordering eggs and bacon for breakfast at the local IHOP.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “You’re here because you need a demon to help if you hand over your precious knife. Don’t tell me you’re getting nervous now.”

  “Who are you summoning?” Considering it was a demon, did it really matter?

  “Krull.”

  Holy shit. An actual happy blast from my childhood past. “Krull? Like the movie?”

  Her sigh warned me she was losing patience. “Yes, like the movie. Leave it to you to make that connection.”

  “So what is Krull”—I rolled the name off my tongue—“going to do?”

  “I’m going to ask him to watch while we attempt to locate Baxter’s spirit. A demon will be able to see through the dimensions, so Krull will know if we’re having any luck. When we find Baxter, you’ll need to touch him and pull him back into this reality.”

  “That simple?” I wasn’t so sure. I never trusted simple. “I just touch him?”

  “It will break the banishment, since it disrupts the origin.”

  “As in the place?” I looked around the room. “What if the building was destroyed?”

  “Wouldn’t matter. He’d still be stuck. It’s the ground itself that keeps the magic in place, although the walls and floors become a part of the spell.”

  “See him, touch him, and done?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Sounded like an excellent plan, except that Sonja seemed to forget about one important thing. “What do you plan to barter with? What do you have that a demon wants?”

  “This.” She rotated the cage around, until I could see a small, fluffy ball of fur inside.

  “You’re going to give him a kitten?”

  Sonja hesitated. “Something like that.”

  Why did that reply not sound good?

  My cell phone vibrated. I pulled it from my pocket and shivered when I glanced at the name.

  Shit. Disco.

  I was surprised he hadn’t called sooner.

  “Give me a sec,” I muttered and moved toward the table at the other side of the room. I pressed the button to answer and placed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Come home. Now.” No greeting. No pretty words. It wasn’t what he said that bothered me, it was the way he said it. A hidden message, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Didn’t Goose give you my message?”

  “Now, Rhiannon.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I expect you here in no less than an hour.”

  A loud click and the call ended. I lowered the cell and stared at it, feeling as if the metal device had grown teeth and bitten me. My palms went clammy. With Marius home, and after I’d failed to arrive back at Disco’s as promised, I knew I had to help Baxter cross over and split.

  “Sonja.” I slid the phone into my pocket and returned to her. “If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to hurry. I’ve got ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” she snapped. “That’s not enough time.”

  “That was Gabriel. I can’t stay.”


  Her face paled, and I wasn’t sure why. A part of me wanted to believe she was worried I would ditch and she would have to wait for another day, while a betraying little voice told me she was more concerned this would be my last trip anywhere.

  “Step back.” She waved her arm, retrieved the tiny kitten from the cage, and walked to the mirror.

  I’d seen summoning before, but I didn’t think I’d ever get used to them. There was something evil about it, a wrongness I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The glossy surface of the mirror rippled as she called Krull, demanding an audience. The demon’s androgynous face appeared, followed by its body.

  “Sonja Wheaten,” it said, sounding amused.

  “I want to bargain. I will give you something you desire in exchange for a small favor.”

  “I know your favors, and they are never small.”

  “This one is.” She lifted the kitten by the scruff and held it out. “I want you to witness a limbo reversal. I need to know if you can see the spirit I am attempting to free.”

  Krull’s strange, pearlescent gaze rested on me. “Rhiannon Murphy. Word of your bargains have spread through Hell.”

  I wanted to squirm. Did every single demon on the other side know my name? Of what bargains I had made? I hoped not.

  “She’s not involved. This deal is between you and me.”

  “Pity. That means I’m going to ask for more for my services.” The demon grinned and I wanted to sag when he stopped staring at me and looked at the tiny animal in Sonja’s hand. “I will watch for your lost soul and inform you of its presence. In exchange you will give me the offering in your hand. Afterward my obligation to you is severed. You will no longer summon me or speak my name. If you do, your soul will be up for grabs, available in any fashion I deem fit.”