“Don’t scare her, sister, especially on her first night here.”
Veronica cringed as they conversed behind her.
The line crept forward and when she reached the front door, the bouncer waved her through without checking her ID. She walked through the curtains and into the stodgy air and interior of Dark Sepulcher. She pushed her way through crowds of contorting dancing bodies, trying to create distance between herself and the Deamhan twins. Music thumped throughout her body.
“You’re back,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
She turned to find the waitress who’d served her the night before. “You ran out in a hurry the other night.” The waitress placed a napkin on a nearby table.
“Oh yeah, I-I lost track of time. Sorry about that.” She had no idea why she apologized. She looked over her shoulder. Realizing the weird twins weren’t following her, she caught her breath and relaxed.
“Wow, you look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” Veronica slicked back her hair.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, nothing right now. Thanks.”
“You look like you need a drink.” The waitress ignored her answer. “I’ll tell you what. We have a new drink and it’s delish!” She patted a chair next to the table. “Sit and relax. My name is Chelsea. If you need anything else, just holler.”
Before Veronica could refuse, Chelsea pushed through the crowd and disappeared. A fresh burst of fog spewed from a machine above, engulfing the dance floor. The gyrating crowd cheered in approval.
Her eyes moved to the back at a small room nestled in the corner directly above the dance floor. A rowdy cheer to her left caught her attention. A group consisting of men and women hovered around a circular table. The light flickered above them. She recognized Alexis; her arms draped around the neck of a man sporting a business suit and red tie. He sipped from a chalice and pointed to the crowd on the dance floor.
Chelsea returned and placed a clear plastic cup on the table in front of her. The dark red drink had no ice, but a hint of blue had settled at the bottom of the cup.
“Here you go,” she said, tucking the tray underneath her arm.
“I’m not thirsty.” She pushed the cup away.
Immediately Chelsea latched onto her wrist and pulled Veronica’s hand toward the cup. “Nonsense.” Her eyes turned black and her mouth opened slightly, revealing her fangs. “Now drink up, researcher. Don’t let a good drink go to waste.”
Veronica looked to her left then to her right. The club music seemed low-set as all eyes in the vicinity were on her, including Alexis’.
Chelsea released her grip. “Drink or I’ll drink you.”
Veronica grasped the cup, lifting it to her lips. She closed her eyes, paused, and then tipped the cup. When the liquid touched her lips, she opened her eyes. Deamhan now encircled her, standing close enough that she felt Chelsea’s breasts pushed against her forearm.
“Drink,” Chelsea repeated. “or I’ll drink you.”
She took a long, deep swallow; thick liquid slid down her throat. The wretched taste of iron and blood made her choke, and she dropped the cup onto the floor, gagging. The Deamhan laughed as she shoved a napkin to her mouth.
Her eyes filled with tears and her mouth frothed. She rushed to the bathroom, elbowing her way through the crowd. Her stomach gurgled and heaved. A sudden gust of air pushed her forward, and cold hands grasped her arms and yanked her into the bathroom.
“Please struggle.” The voice of the taller twin tickled her ear.
“Yes, please.” The voice of the shorter twin tickled Veronica’s other ear.
With the bathroom door slammed shut behind them, the twins pushed her to the cold, dirty floor. She winced as her ribs smacked the tile; pain shot through her stomach and into her back. She stole a glance under the stalls before she raised her head. They were alone. Bare fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead, giving the room an ominous glow.
The taller twin grabbed her arms and easily lifted Veronica to her feet. “Look! A human!” She violently slammed her against the bathroom wall.
Breathless, Veronica made a dash for the door, but was shoved back. The taller twin wrapped her fingers around her neck and her dark menacing eyes bore down on her.
She tried envisioning a brick wall in preparation for the Deamhan twins to invade her thoughts, but the tingling sensation never came. Instead, she drifted into the furthest part of her mind where she kept sacred memories of her mother carefully hidden from human and Deamhan alike.
“I told you, sister.” The tall twin licked her lips. “She’s ripe.” The Deamhan twins knowingly locked eyes and giggled.
With a handful of Veronica’s hair in her grasp, the taller twin pulled, yanking her head violently to the side. She opened her mouth and her canines protruded from her pale gums. “Her scent is strong, Brandy. And her skin is so soft.” She stuck out her tongue and licked her neck from her ear to her collarbone.
Veronica shivered from the trail of wet spittle left on her skin.
“What should we do with her?” The tall twin increased her grip. “She doesn’t have the markings of a minion.”
Brandy stepped away from the door. “But, Branda, I heard she is protected.”
Her mouth opened, exposing sharper and longer fangs than her sister’s. “What Deamhan would be stupid enough to give a researcher protection?” Branda scoffed. “Especially one as stupid as her.”
Protected? Veronica struggled to keep her eyes opened. Darkness toyed at her periphery, and she thought she might faint from lack of oxygen.
“I want her first, sister.” Brandy’s eyes widened. “Oh, can I? Can I please have first bite?”
“Sure.” Branda slowly released her grip. Veronica gasped, her lungs searing as they engulfed fresh air. “But don’t get greedy.”
Brandy replaced her sister’s stance and shoved Veronica back against the wall. “I like it when they fight.” She closed her eyes and swayed her head back and forth as she spoke in a singsong voice. “Like a fly, caught in a spider web, about to meet its maker.”
“Protected.” Branda huffed, her nostrils flaring. “What a crock of shit.”
A strong wind manifested, and Brandy instantly released her grip. Her head jerked to the bathroom door as it flew open on its own.
Veronica’s legs crumbled. She fell to the floor gasping for air. She looked up in time to see a fuzzy image of the twins running out of the bathroom with Deamhan speed and the door slamming shut behind them.
Whatever scared them away had impeccable timing.
She leaned against the wall, coughing up phlegm. She rubbed her tender neck, lifted herself to her feet, and shuffled over to the sink. She turned on the water and splashed it on her face. Her breathing relaxed and she examined the red and purple bruises on her neck in the mirror.
“Shit,” she said, her voice hoarse. “But I’ll be damned if I’ll let these freaks run me out of Dark Sepulcher again.”
She touched the wall to steady herself.
The drink’s stimulating effects returned with a punch as she made her way out of the bathroom and back to the main room. The club walls swirled around her. White and gold streaks trailed behind the patrons dancing on the dance floor. Afraid to walk any farther, she rested against a pillar and dropped her head into her hands.
Who would protect me?
She knew what it meant. If a human or even a Deamhan was said to be protected it meant that someone claimed them as their own. They were off limits, untouchable. To achieve this status, the one being protected was usually a minion or claimed their loyalty to a very strong and old Deamhan. But she wasn’t anyone’s to claim and she wasn’t any Deamhan’s minion. Her curiosity grew.
Flashing strobe lights semi-blinded her; however, she found her vision acquired more depth when she saw Alexis headed in her direction.
“You came back.” She was dressed in a short and shiny black pleather dress. She spor
ted a pink wig, the hair cut into a short bob. Her cold hand snaked up Veronica’s arm. “It’s a funny drink, isn’t it?”
She felt electric vibrations running through her body. “What did she give me?” Her breathing raced. “Vampire blood? I’m dying?”
Alexis threw her head back in laughter. “You researchers aren’t the sharpest tools in the box.” Her body swayed with the pulsating beat of the music. “To be made a vampire, researcher, you’d have to be drained of your blood and have it replaced by vampire blood. It’s a simple process which takes only a night.” She curled her fingers into Veronica’s hair, tilting her head to the side. “To be made Deamhan, your psychic energy needs to be drained and replaced by the energy of a Deamhan. A somewhat complicated process that takes several days. So lucky for you, you’re still human.”
“Then what did she give me?”
“It’s not for you, you know. But it’s so entertaining watching a human on it.”
Her mouth engulfed Veronica’s own in a passionate kiss. She felt the vampire’s tongue slide past her lips, and down into her throat. Her gag reflex repressed, and a warm, acidic liquid regurgitated from her stomach. Her entire body shuddered as Alexis suckled violently, sucking out the contents of her stomach into her own mouth.
Oddly, she experienced total relaxation when Alexis released her.
The vampire spat the red liquid onto the floor. “There. All better.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her full lips.
“Wh-what did you do to me?” Veronica’s buzz slowly faded.
“Nothing much.” She grabbed Veronica’s wrist and placed a small envelope in her palm. “He wants you to come back.”
“Who?” Veronica stared at the envelope. By the time she looked up again, Alexis was gone.
She wiped her damp forehead. Her body felt loose and weak. Her senses returned to normal. As she gawked at the small puddle of red liquid near her feet, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Veronica?”
She turned and stood face to face with Murphy.
“Murphy?” She willed her eyes to focus, surprised he was there.
“Are you okay?” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the sweat on her forehead. “You look sick.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d check this place out.” He wrinkled his forehead. “You don’t look so good.”
He shouldn’t be here! Still, she welcomed his presence even if his form-fitting blue jeans and loose white T-shirt made him stick out in Dark Sepulcher more than she did.
“Were you leaving?” he asked.
She nodded weakly. “Can you get me out of here?”
“Yeah, sure.” He took her hand and led her toward the exit.
The floor felt uneven to Veronica’s steps, and she fought symptoms of vertigo as he led her through the heavy black curtains and out the front door. A cool breeze rushed against her face and up her back. Overhead, the sky glowed with an orange haze, and she wondered if it was pollution or the streetlights that lit up the city.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
She tensed at a loud buzz and looked up then sighed in relief when she realized the sound originated from an airplane heading to Minneapolis International Airport, which wasn’t far away.
“Veronica?” His voice drew her eyes back to his face.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Let’s go.”
“Did you drive or walk?”
She looked behind him at Dark Sepulcher in the distance.
“Taxi. I’ll call a taxi.” He pulled out his cell phone.
“No, don’t.”
“Are you okay to walk back?”
“Yeah, I could use the fresh air.”
He nodded and put his phone away.
She leaned against his body while they walked down the street. She held on to his arm firmly. Every so often she looked over her shoulder. She didn’t know who would come for her. She expected the twins to finish what they started. Maybe walking back to Palm Oaks wasn’t the smartest thing to do after all.
They walked down the street and passed a group of men dressed in dark clothing. Veronica looked over her shoulder, watching them walk into Dark Sepulcher.
“What’s wrong?” Murphy asked as he removed his arm from her side, forcing her to stand on her own.
“It’s nothing.”
“Well, are you feeling better at least?”
“A little. Thank you.” She put her hand to her head, suddenly embarrassed. “I ordered a drink that was too strong for me.”
“That place is kind of weird,” he continued. “Just as I walked in, I saw this guy and girl biting each other. Are all clubs in this city like that?”
“Dark Sepulcher is, well, special,” she answered, resting her fingers on his forearm.
“It’s creepy.”
They crossed the deserted street and headed down Hennepin Avenue. They passed boarded up stores and vacant facades. “For sale” signs lined the windows of several empty buildings, and an odor of urine lingered in the cool air.
Tiny hairs on her neck danced and, despite Murphy’s proximity, she still didn’t feel safe.
“What is it?”
“I just want to get home.” She forced a weak smile.
“Yeah, me too,” he replied. “My warm bed sounds good about now. So um, what do your father and your mother do?”
She quickly changed the subject. “What did you say you’re majoring in at college?”
“I’m taking generals now,” he answered. “I haven’t declared a major yet. I’m thinking maybe engineering or criminal justice. My father wants me to become an engineer, but I don’t know yet. What do you think? Can you see me as an engineer or a police officer?”
Just ahead, two dark figures shadowed the street at the end of the block. Murphy stared at her, waiting for an answer.
She pressed his arm and halted, nodding her head toward the two in front of them. “Who’s that?”
“Where?” He squinted, peering down the street.
Orange streetlights bathed the two in shadows, but from the length of their hair, Veronica knew exactly who they were. “Quick. Let’s go this way.” She gripped his arm to spin him around.
“But the apartment is that way.” He pointed down the street in their current destination.
Just as they turned, the two figures quickly appeared in front of them.
Before she could react, Brandy grabbed Murphy by the neck, lifting him several inches off the ground. Branda spun Veronica around and wrapped her forearm around her neck.
Murphy gasped and his eyes bulged.
“Now, where were we?” Branda whispered in Veronica’s ear.
Murphy balled his fist and stuck Brandy across the chin.
She smiled. “Oh, he’s a keeper, sis. I love a fighter!”
He swung again, but she caught his fist in her palm. “What the fuck?” His eyes swelled from the pressure of Brandy’s grip.
“All the things I can do to him, sister.” She slapped Murphy across the face. Even in the shadowy night, his cheek burned red with her palm print.
A surge of pain shot through Veronica’s already sore neck. She tried to fight, but her strength was no match for Branda.
“What do you think, sister?” Brandy’s eyes scanned Murphy’s head from head to toe. “Do you think he’ll like me?”
Branda sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t care. As long as I get to play with her.”
Brandy’s smile slowly dissipated. “You never care about what I want.” As if he were an afterthought, she abruptly released Murphy. He dropped hard to the concrete, coughing and rubbing his throat.
“Of course I do.” Branda’s gaze didn’t leave Veronica who continued to struggle.
“Then why don’t you care?” Brandy stood next to her sister. She placed her hands on her hips. “If you care, let me have her first.”
She quickly eyed her sister. “You have him, Brandy.�
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“But . . . I . . . want . . . her!”
In a flash, Brandy’s eyes shifted away from her sister and down the street. Then she looked over her shoulder and back to her sister. Veronica noticed her alarmed gaze. Dread was the last thing she’d ever expected to see in the eyes of a Deamhan.
The sound of breaking glass broke the air. Something or someone was there.
“Brandy, what is it?” Branda asked, exposing prolonged canines.
“It’s her!”
A gust of warm wind blew past them. Branda’s grip loosened. Veronica fell to the pavement. She quickly crawled toward Murphy.
Dark blood oozed from a slit on Branda’s neck. It rained down her chest, splattering the ground in front of them. She reached for her neck, rubbed her gash and examined the reddish black fluid. Blood spurted from every orifice from her face; like a jet stream, it poured out her nostrils, mouth, ears, and eventually her eyes. The skin around her ear to ear wound turned black. Like intricate spider webs, the discoloration spread until it covered her skin.
Her head hit the pavement, followed by her body. It crumbled into little pieces before finally disintegrating before their eyes.
Murphy jumped to his feet and pulled Veronica back to avoid the cloud of dust and pool of blood.
“No! No! No!” Brandy screamed and, with Deamhan speed, dashed across the street, disappearing around the corner.
“What the—what the hell was that?” He coughed and gagged as the wind picked up, blowing ashes across the street and into the air. “Veronica, what the hell was that!”
How could she explain? At that moment, no words could describe what they saw. But now she knew what being protected meant.
“We need to go.” She pulled a wide eyed Murphy down the street toward Palm Oaks, clutching the crumpled envelope to her chest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time they reached Palm Oaks Veronica agreed for Murphy to spend the night at her apartment.
He questioned her the entire way back. His fear disappeared, replaced by a natural curiosity to know what was going on. He sat on her couch, fidgeting his fingers. She locked the front door, checked it, and then checked it again. It didn’t matter how comfortable and safe she felt.
Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion Page 5