Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2)

by Logan Patricks

  “Is there a number?”

  I searched for the most recent calls, both incoming and outgoing. The numbers were all from an unknown caller.

  “Do you think Reiko can trace Calisto’s location from this phone?” I asked.

  “No idea, best to ask her yourself.”

  I nodded.

  We headed for the dining room, where cowardly Nathan and the rest of his men were waiting. The first thing I noticed was the unconscious bodies of Elena’s men. Some lay on the floor while others were still in their seats, faces buried into the red fabric of the dining room table where they sat.

  “Huh,” I stated.

  “The food didn’t seem to agree with them,” Nathan said. He was sitting alone at a table, sipping tea from a small porcelain cup. His men stood around him, hands holding their guns tightly.

  “Are they dead?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Sleeping,” he said. He glanced at me from head to toe and then shrugged. “I must admit, I’m surprised that you’re still alive.”

  “Did you hire that four-eyed maniac to kill Elena?” I asked, bluntly.

  Nathan smirked. “You really don’t have any trust in me, do you?”

  “No more of your whimsical bullshit,” I said. “Answer the damn question; did you hire Duckface to kill her?”

  The Triad leader rose from his seat and walked over to me. It wasn’t until we were inches apart that he stared me right in the eye and said, “No. I did not hire Duckface to kill her.”

  I tried reading his body language to see if there were any indications of him lying. From what I gathered, he was either telling the truth or a master sociopath, like my sister.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  “I delivered what was promised—Elena Zhao,” Nathan said. “Now it’s time to keep your end of the bargain.”

  I laughed. “She was killed before I could get anything out of her.”

  “That is not my concern,” Nathan said. “Our agreement was that I would deliver her to you. What went on between your interactions does not concern me.”

  “Did you deliver her to me? Or was it the other way around?” I asked.

  Nathan looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Would I have drugged her men, if the intent was to betray you?”

  “You could have done that after you saw her dead corpse on the ground,” I said.

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, I could have.”

  I looked at him, and then smiled at a simple revelation. Nathan would have struck a deal with whoever walked out of the private dining room in control of the situation.

  For him, it was a win-win scenario the entire time. The appearance of that four-eyed goon was an unexpected curveball.

  Who hired Duckface in the first place?

  The only name I had was Calisto. She knew I was getting close. Perhaps she had Elena followed by that creep. It was an insurance policy in order to keep Elena silent if she decided to sing for me.

  “There’s no backing out of our agreement,” Nathan reminded me. The guns that his men were holding were now pointing at us.

  “No need for threats,” I said as I pulled out my cellphone. “A deal’s a deal. You’ll get what you want.”

  I pushed the sequence of icons that Reiko had instructed for me. Suddenly, the accounts of the Triad filled my phone screen. I watched as money was slowly being transferred over into their corporate account.

  “It’s done,” I said. “The full transfer should be completed in a couple of weeks.” I handed Nathan a folded piece of paper which contained all the account information.

  Nathan took the document and brought it to a laptop he had set up behind the cash register. He spent the next couple of minutes staring at the screen, deep in concentration.

  When he was satisfied, he returned to me and extended his hand.

  “It looks like everything is in order,” he said. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  I gripped his hand, and shook it.

  “What are you going to do about Elena?” I asked.

  “Hide the body of course,” he replied. “We’ll probably have to run an acid bath for her and her men, just so none of us are implicated in her murder. Despite being long retired, Elena’s father is still a very powerful man with a lot of influence. We wouldn’t want him looking in our direction as the primary suspects for Elena’s death.”

  I agreed.

  “Any thoughts on who hired her?” I asked. “Who would want Elena dead?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I don’t care,” he said. “Elena’s gone now, and we’ll need to dispose of her body. That’s the only thought on my mind at the moment.”

  “So I guess we’re done here,” I said.

  “It does look that way,” Nathan agreed. “I suggest using the back entrance to avoid any suspicion. Now if you don’t mind, there’s much work that needs to be done.”

  Not being one for goodbyes, I simply nodded, turned, and walked away. Cairo walked beside me.

  “Well that was all fucked up,” he said.

  I opened the door to the kitchen and found Nathan’s men, lying on the floor, unconscious. There was no doubt that Duckface had entered into the private dining room through this back way.

  We made our way through the kitchen, past a few unconscious bodies, and then finally out the back door which led into the alleyway.

  I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, gripping Elena’s cellphone tightly in my hand.

  “Fuck man,” Cairo said shaking his head. His face looked like a mess from the senseless beating that Duckface had served him. “Just…fuck.”

  “What are you cursing about?” I asked.

  “It feels like we came out empty handed,” he replied. “Now we’re back to square one.”

  “I have Elena’s cellphone,” I pointed out.

  “You think it was worth giving Nathan an empire in exchange for a cellphone that may or may not contain the info we need?” Cairo asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I think your girlfriend’s the only one that can answer that question.”

  Cairo shook his head and made a fist. “Damn,” he said. “Shit’s not right.”

  I looked at the Black Devil and couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, Cairo was hotheaded, lacked strategy, and wore his heart on his sleeve, but at least he was loyal. After all, he could have walked out of the room and left me to deal with Duckface alone.

  Loyalty was such a hard thing to find these days.

  “So I guess the trip to Hong Kong wasn’t worth it for you, was it?” he asked.

  I looked at Cairo, the son of the lion that was Brevin West, and shrugged my shoulders. “It wasn’t a total loss,” I replied.

  Without wanting to get too sentimental, I left it at that. After all, if I was going to succeed in bringing Calisto down, I needed Cairo enraged and on edge.

  He was halfway there already.

  We both were.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Aria

  “Well good morning little lady! I’m assuming the couch wasn’t to your satisfaction?”

  I awoke to see Beau standing in front of me, still in his clothes from last night. He was holding a large paper bag in one hand and a tray with two coffees in the other.

  I lifted my head off the table and grimaced from the painful crick in my neck.

  I felt foul. I assumed that the smell of whiskey was coming from me—or was it Beau?

  He looked like had downed a few drinks himself.

  “The couch was fine until you shot a bullet through it,” I said as I stretched in the chair.

  “Better a bullet through the couch than a bullet through that boyfriend of yours,” Beau said.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I corrected him.

  “Oh? I guess you two were lying about that as well.”

  I didn’t bother to reply.

  “I’m going to shower,” I said.

  Beau took a sip from his coffee. “There’s breakfast waiting for
you when you’re finished.”

  Even the shower couldn’t cut me a break. The temperature of the water was subzero and the first blast of water that hit my skin caused me to howl in shock. It was followed by a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Everything all right in there honey? Your screams were something right out of a horror movie.”

  “Holy crap,” I exclaimed. “I think the ghost of old man winter just possessed your bathroom pipes.”

  I allowed for the water to run a bit longer, hoping that the temperature would eventually warm up, but no such luck.

  “There’s no hot water in this place?” I asked.

  “In the kitchen there is, but not in the bathroom.”

  I frowned. “Well I’m certainly not going to bathe myself in your kitchen.”

  “Now wouldn’t that be a sight.”

  I shook my head and stared at the bathroom ceiling out of exasperation. “So you’re telling me there’s no hot water in this bathroom.”

  “You are correct.”

  Shit.

  “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked.

  My brain was still in an alcohol induced fog and I voiced my displeasure with a sound that was a cross between “fuck” and “ugh”.

  I needed my morning coffee soon.

  I spent the next ten minutes scrubbing myself with a cold, wet, towel and endured the icy stream of water running through my hair.

  It was the worst shower I’d ever experienced. After getting changed and opening the door, I must have looked as pleased as a wet cat.

  Beau walked over to me and handed me the steaming cup of coffee, which I snatched up eagerly.

  I basked in the aura of the hot, liquid warmth that the aromatic coffee provided and let out a satisfied sigh.

  “Beignet?” Beau asked as he opened up the brown paper bag.

  “Please,” I replied.

  The food was just as delightful as the coffee. The beignet was a wonderful deep fried pastry dusted with white powdery sugar that was an amalgamation between a donut and a French fry.

  I was starving and wolfed down breakfast like an unrefined heathen.

  After I swallowed the last morsel of food, I turned to Beau, who was standing in front of his bed, laying out an elegant looking black suit. Next to it was an exotic red, flowing mermaid dress with a scandalous low cut neckline that promised the girl who wore it the desires of any man.

  “Has Lincoln come back yet?” I asked, diverting my gaze from Beau. As I mentioned his name, my thoughts drifted back to Lincoln as I recalled in vivid detail him lifting me onto the piano, his mouth devouring mine as his fingers moved inside me, sending me into a state of bliss. But that was before the shame and the guilt ate away at me like acid, corroding away whatever was left of my moral being.

  “He left a pretty thing like you alone last night?” Beau asked, surprised.

  “I can take care of myself just fine,” I replied, annoyed if he was implying I was a weak, defenseless girl. “I fought both Crow brothers after all and lived to talk about it.”

  There was a wondrous gleam in his eye as he looked at me with adoration. “You’re going to share those tales with me one day,” Beau said. “I have to say, Ms. Aria Valencia, you are one fascinating creature.”

  “Did you just call me a creature?” I asked.

  Beau shook his head. “You’re one of those beautiful creatures, like a unicorn or a mermaid. No need to toss your panties into the weeds.”

  He picked up the seductive red dress and handed it to me. “Here,” he said, “For the wedding. I figured you didn’t bring any formal wear on this little trip of yours and to make amends for pointing a gun at your not-boyfriend’s head, I thought I’d buy you this pretty red dress.”

  “Beau, it’s gorgeous,” I said as I marveled at the beauty of the silky fabric. “But I don’t think I can do it justice. I mean, jeez this dress is supposed to be a head turner. I think you need a girl that fits that bill.”

  “Why darling,” Beau said with a sly grin, “You’re the only girl I can think of that can possibly wear this.”

  His words reminded me of Abraham—sweet, kind, Abraham—who had convinced me that another ravishing dress belonged to me, despite my protests.

  They both had a similar charm about them, though Abraham was nowhere near as pervy and conceited.

  I missed him.

  “What about me?” I turned to see Lincoln, standing by the doorway. He looked tired and his eyes were completely bloodshot. The vaults of energy he usually had stored away in that lean body of his had evaporated overnight. My eyes immediately diverted away from his gaze. All the shame I felt threatened to spill out from me in the form of tears.

  Shadow said it like he missed you, like he still loved you.

  Those words reverberated through me like church bells echoing through a hollow cathedral.

  I swallowed hard and faced Lincoln.

  I regretted pushing him away like I did. He wasn’t the one to blame for what had happened. I was the one who came onto him. I was the one who mislead him.

  I—Aria Valencia—was the one that was beyond screwed up.

  Say something Lincoln. Say anything that would cut through this awkward tension that I created. Say something to make me feel better, like all those other times during the course of the past two weeks.

  Say something to make me not feel like the shittiest person in the world.

  “Any chance you have a coffee for me somewhere?” he asked, looking at our cups. “I could sure use a pick-me-up.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

  “I could only carry two,” Beau said, not even batting an eye towards him.

  “You have a tray with four cup slots,” Lincoln pointed out.

  Beau had a smug smile on his face. “You ever try balancing three cups in one of those things?” he asked. “It’s really a difficult thing, seeing as how the center of gravity is all off and messes with the equilibrium in my wrists. I probably would have spilled if I had three coffees. I could have bought four coffees I suppose, but that would just be a waste of money.”

  “You shitting me?” Lincoln asked.

  Beau looked at Lincoln and replied with a deadpanned, “Yes, I probably am.”

  “You’re still harboring a grudge against me over Donald?” Lincoln asked.

  “No,” Beau replied. “I’m harboring a grudge over you for being a dick, and putting me down for all I’ve done for the organization thus far.”

  “Good job Beau,” Lincoln said sarcastically, while clapping his hands. “Glad you’re now part of the Scooby Gang. Now if you excuse me, that bullet-ridden sofa bed is tempting me with its siren song.”

  Lincoln walked over to the sofa bed and collapsed onto it, not once casting a glance at me. “Wake me up when we have to go,” he said, closing his eyes.

  Damn it Lincoln, not you too.

  I could barely handle the fact that Shadow was giving me the silent treatment, but for Lincoln to as well? Were all men in my life going to be like this from now on? Refusing to speak to me when things began falling apart?

  “I’m not completely heartless,” Beau said, cutting through the silence. “I did get you a suit. We wouldn’t want you showing up at a party looking like the unsightly vagrant that you are.”

  “Thank you, Beau,” Lincoln announced, his voice still filled with sarcasm. He didn’t even bother opening is eyes.

  “Well, I can tell we’re in no mood to enjoy each other’s company,” Beau said. “I’ll take my leave—even though this is my place.”

  “Much appreciated,” Lincoln said, his eyes still closed.

  “I’ll meet you by the boats at six p.m. sharp.”

  I was surprised. “Boats? I thought we were going to a wedding?”

  “We are sweetheart,” Beau said. “Didn’t you read the invitation?”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s on a plantation, accessible only by boat,” he replied. “It’s going to
be quite the extravagant function from the looks of it.”

  Lincoln opened his eyes and eyed Beau suspiciously. “Who’s marrying Delilah?”

  I stared at Lincoln’s face, his once smooth features now outlined by light stubble. Along with the weariness in his eyes and the new haircut he was sporting, I was starting to believe that Lincoln was evolving into another man.

  “Well that’s the interesting thing,” Beau said. “The card doesn’t say who’s getting married, just the time and the location. I guess it’s a surprise.”

  Lincoln shrugged his shoulders, and rested his head back on the pillow of the sofa bed.

  “Good night,” he said.

  Beau sighed before strolling out of the flat. I was left alone at the table, staring at Lincoln. He was pretending that I didn’t even exist.

  If he wasn’t going to say something, then I would.

  “I’m sorry, Lincoln,” I said.

  There was a moment of lingering silence as I waited for his reply. My hands began fidgeting with a napkin on the table as I twisted it nervously—mimicking the emotions I felt deep in my stomach.

  Lincoln finally opened his eyes, sat up on the bed and looked at me. “I’m sorry too.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I replied, relieved that there was some form of dialogue taking place between us. “I was the one coming onto you and making passes. I just felt so lonely and weak. With Shadow treating me like shit, I just wanted to feel like someone cared about me again. For some stupid reason, I thought I could feel that through sex.”

  Lincoln shook his head. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” he said. He stuck his hand out. “Friends?”

  Despite the gesture, I saw the hurt on his face. It was the same look that Justin had when I told him a physical relationship with him would have been like incest.

  Perhaps, the way Shadow was treating me was the Universe’s punishment for me leading Justin on.

  And now, I had used Lincoln as a means of sexual escape. What punishment did you have in store for me next, Universe?

  I had twisted the hearts of two lovely people, and in return, the Karma King was kicking my ass all around town.

  He still loved you…

  Then why couldn’t you just tell me yourself Shadow?

  I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror.