Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Layers of posters, flyers, and Polaroid’s covered every inch of the walls. I wrinkled my nose at the charcoal, concrete floor. It had probably been closer to white at one point, but years of neglect would do that. A boy with spiked blue hair fed coins to the jukebox and pressed a few buttons. Megadeth blared as he made his way back to the bar and slapped his palm down several times. The bartender’s stretched t-shirt slipped up off his large stomach as he walked to the boy. At the other end of the bar, a couple leaned in close to one another, laughing and slamming back shots.

  “All in all, things turned out all right,” Lucy said. “You didn’t really have to nose your way in.”

  “I still think you’re lucky that Esais and Tres found out as well.” I took her place at the table, aiming for the number two ball. “You still haven’t told them everything. You and Jonah.”

  She cleared her throat. “That’s a bit more complicated. I don’t know how much Dad wants to talk about that, and it would raise a lot of questions if I just talked about my part.”

  “Well, you both should consider it.”

  She chuckled. “You are just tired of being called an old woman.”

  I grinned at her. “I’m still older than both of you combined.”

  The white ball sent the number two spinning towards the center left pocket. It slid in with a thump. I stood and scanned the bar again, this time with my second sight. The pinks and oranges of lust swirled around the couple. Ahh, young love. The bartender had a dull brown of boredom. The boy’s aura was a mess, however. All throughout the dull gray of illness and the bright red of anxiety was rot I bumped Lucy’s hip with my own and cleared my throat. When I gave a slight nod to the bar, she glanced at me and then behind her. The boy tapped his foot against his stool and downed the last of his beer.

  “Dealer?” she murmured.

  I shook my head. “I think he’s waiting for one.”

  “Then we wait, too. Your shot.”

  I approached the table, took my shot, and missed. Lucy took over again. I tapped my fingernail on my pool cue as I watched the man for a few more minutes. He looked like he would bolt at any sudden movement. I needed to approach this a little more gently.

  “I’m going to get us some beers.” I headed to the bar and slid in the seat next to the boy. “Two Guinness.”

  The boy looked me up and down and gave a thin-lipped smile.

  I smiled back. “It’s quiet in here.”

  “Won’t be after the concert.” The bartender set two mugs in front of me.

  I looked back. “You not interested in the band?”

  “I’m waiting on someone,” he said.

  I nodded and tried to look disappointed. “Ahh, a girlfriend.”

  He stared at me for a moment and laughed. “No, no. Just someone I’ve got to meet first. Though if you’re going and you want to meet up, I’m all for that. What’s your name?”

  I grabbed the mugs and stood up. “Gabby, and I’ll think about it.”

  Lucy was leaning against the table. “Well?”

  I handed her the beer. “We wait.”

  I sipped my beer and set it down. I wanted to keep a clear head, but it would have looked odd to be at a bar and not drink. After fifteen minutes of switching back and forth on the pool table, Lucy nudged me.

  “Isn’t that?”

  I looked up and blinked at the familiar redhead that came down the steps from outside. “Tres’s courtesan.”

  Lucy snorted. “That’s too pretty of a word. Whore works fine.”

  She did look the part as she unzipped her leather jacket to reveal a black bra underneath. She nodded to the bartenders and sat two stools away from the spike-haired boy. He flicked his gaze to her and said something. I moved around the table and bent over, so I could look like I was focusing on the game and still keep an eye on the two of them. The rot had eaten away at her aura, worse than the boy next to her.

  “She looks a lot different than she did the other day,” Lucy said.

  The short dress she’d worn at the office was an entirely different style than her hard rock leather now. Her attitude here was more laid back, less impatient. The bartender set a small glass in front of her. She downed the liquid and gave a high pitched laugh.

  “If she’s the dealer, maybe it’s not a coincidence she was with Tres,” I said.

  “You don’t think Tres . . .” Lucy said.

  I shook my head. “But he has a weakness for women and demons play on weakness.”

  She stood and pulled out a cigarette and nodded up the stairs. She and the boy headed out.

  “Well, Dearie, I feel like a smoke,” Lucy said. “Care to join me?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I paid the tab and headed up the stairs with Lucy. When I stepped outside, a brisk wind blew through me and carried the sound of the cars on the road to my ears. Delilah and the boy stood near an alley several buildings away. She glanced at us as she slipped something into his hand. Her eyes widened, and she turned to rush away in the opposite direction.

  “I got her,” Lucy said. “You get the boy.”

  I moved so I was blocking the stairs of the club. “Did she have anything good?”

  He shifted his gaze around and tried to look confused. It came out more of a shady expression. “What are you talking about?”

  I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows. “I’m just looking for something good. Did she have any?”

  “Oh,” he smiled. “Yeah.”

  “Damn,” I said. “Do you know where she was headed?”

  “She said something about the concert.”

  I smiled and stepped to the side. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. I brushed against him as he walked past me and slipped my hand in the pocket of his coat, grabbing the small packet inside. I walked down the street in the direction Lucy had headed. She ran up to me.

  “I lost her,” she said with a pant. “She got in a taxi.”

  “It’s fine,” I held a small plastic bag filled with yellow powder. “I know where she’s headed. Let’s get Marge on this. If we’re lucky, we might have a chance at Cambione tonight.”

  Chapter 24

  THE BASS OF the music vibrated the sidewalk as we approached the club. A neon sign reading Paradise Lost flickered in the night. Marge stood apart from the line with her arms crossed and one foot tapping. She wore a black leather jacket and jeans. Her brows were scrunched together as she scanned the street.

  “This had better be worth it,” she said as we joined her.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why? Have you found Cambione yet?”

  She scowled.

  “So, any lead is worth following. But if you want to continue sitting on your ass as your time ticks away.” I gave a broad wave down the sidewalk.

  “Ladies,” Lucy said. “Let’s not waste time arguing.”

  “Why not? What’s a little more time to waste?” I asked.

  “Someone’s on edge,” Marge said. “So why here?”

  Lucy explained Delilah in short clipped words as we stepped in line. I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, an array of colors greeted me. Most were muted and muddied, people looking to ease the pain of their daily lives with alcohol and drugs. Still, the ones in line were all human. I sighed and let my sight return to normal. Staring through the looking glass too long at so many people made my head hurt.

  “And Tres has become even more useless,” Marge said.

  “Don’t be so certain. This girl may be our only lead.” I rubbed my left temple.

  The bouncer eyed the three of us; Marge in her jeans, Lucy in her short skirt and boots, and me in the leather pants. He grinned at Lucy and waved us in. She patted him on the shoulder as she passed. A haze filled the air, making the already dim room harder to see in. The smell of smoke invaded my nose and clogged my lungs. I coughed. A large dance floor took up most of the club with the stage in the back of the room. On the stage, a band tried their hardest to blast my eardrum
s to oblivion. The singer half-growled, half-screamed indecipherable lyrics into the microphone. Bodies pressed together in front of the stage, jumping to the beat.

  “Do you see her?” I yelled to Lucy.

  “Hold on.” Lucy climbed on one of the barstools and started scanning the crowd.

  “Found her,” she called.

  She hopped down and darted between two bikers, making her way to the dance floor. I pushed my way through, keeping an eye on Lucy’s pigtails. She grabbed the arm of the redhead and dragged her to the edge.

  “What the hell?” The girl glared at Lucy.

  “You know what,” Lucy said. “Does Tres know you’re dealing drugs?”

  “And?”

  Lucy glanced around the club with an annoyed expression. “Let’s talk outside.”

  “No, Sons of Salem are on. You got a problem, talk to Tres.”

  Marge grabbed the girl’s arm and twisted it behind her back. She used it to steer Delilah toward the restroom. Several people shot looks at us as we passed, but most moved after seeing Marge’s expression.

  “Ow, ow. Hey, let me go.” Delilah twisted and turned, trying to break free of Marge’s grasp.

  Marge spun her around and pressed against the wall of the bathroom. “OK, bitch. Where the hell are you getting the Blasphemy from? Are you spying on us for Cambione?”

  Delilah’s eyes widened, and she began to stutter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The door to the bathroom slammed open and a group of girls with multicolored hair came in. They paused, glancing at us, before moving to the stalls and sinks. Delilah shoved Marge back with both of her hands and bolted through the open door. I grabbed for her, and my fingers caught the bottom of her jacket. She yanked hard, causing me to lose my grip, and slipped through a group of leather-clad drunks.

  Marge turned her glare on Lucy. “You couldn’t have predicted that?”

  “I’m a fortune-teller, not a seer.” Lucy followed me out the door.

  I switched to my second sight. The rot-eaten aura darted and weaved through the rainbow, making a path to the exit. “She’s leaving.”

  I maneuvered through the crowd after her. The cold air blasted my face as I stepped outside. Delilah was running across the street, almost at the corner. I took off after her with Marge and Lucy close behind me. It didn’t take us long to overcome her. She was in five inch heels after all. I slammed into her and rode her to the ground. She slapped at my face but I grabbed her wrist. She opened her mouth to scream and I punched her. She reeled back, slamming her head on the concrete.

  “We really should move somewhere more private,” Lucy said. “We’re attracting attention.”

  I nodded to the subway entrance. “Help me, Marge.”

  Delilah didn’t resist as we lead her down the stairs. She held her head and moaned. I sat her on the bench, and she put her head between her legs.

  “You bitches are psycho.” Her voice was muffled at that angle, but I could hear her New York accent now that we were out of the club.

  “This could go easier for you,” I said. “Answer Marge’s question. Did Cambione send you to spy on us?”

  She glanced up at me, her hands gripping the sides of the bench. “He said he’d make it worth my while. Pay me extra, you know.”

  Marge leaned in and gripped Delilah’s shirt in her fist. “What have you told him?”

  “Just that you people are fucking insane. Talking about monsters and shit.”

  “You sell Blasphemy. You had to have seen weird things,” I said.

  She opened her mouth and then closed it, shaking her head. She pushed Marge’s hand away from her and stared at the ground.

  “Where is Cambione tonight?”

  “He’ll kill me,” she said.

  “That’s very cliché, dearie. You do have options to prevent that,” Lucy said. “Such as getting on a bus and leaving.”

  “Besides, I can make you wish you were dead.” Marge turned her head from side to side and a loud pop echoed through the subway station.

  I kept my expression impassive and pushed down the queasiness that came with the thought of Marge’s methods. Delilah looked scared enough that we shouldn’t have to resort to torture. The girl looked at us, her mouth opening and closing several times. Tears left black stains down her face, and her blue lipstick was smeared across her cheek.

  “Fine,” she said. “He throws a party in the penthouse of a hotel. It changes every night.”

  “And tonight?” I asked.

  “It’s at the Surrey. I was going after the show but . . .” She looked at the three of us and shook her head.

  “Is there a code to get in or anything?” Marge asked.

  Delilah sat up and crossed her arms. “6669.”

  I rolled my eyes. “As clever as most demons.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  I darted forward and swung my fist at her. She started at my movement, her eyes widening and her mouth opening, but she had no time to duck out of the way. My blow caught her in the temple, and she slumped against the bench.

  Lucy blinked at me. “That was a bit harsh.”

  Marge let out a choking laugh. “Wicked.”

  “Get the Blasphemy off her.” I stepped away and put the small comm in my ear. “Adrian, I need to pull you away from your computer.”

  A sigh reverberated through the little device. “In trouble already?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. We have a location, and I need you to pick up our captive.”

  “Oh? And where am I making this pickup?”

  I gave him directions and tapped the earpiece again. Marge stepped up and searched her pockets. She pulled out three bags of yellowish powder and shook them at me.

  I nodded and grinned. “Well, ladies. Once Adrian takes Delilah off of our hands, we can hunt.”

  “About damn time.” Marge’s eyes glittered as she cracked her knuckles. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  Chapter 25

  WE TOOK A taxi to Manhattan. There was no way I would get in the cramped underground subway. It was just an opening for trouble. I stepped out of the car and let my gaze travel up the hotel. The lights of the city reflected off the glass windows and shone on the white and red brick of the building.

  “Well?” Marge asked.

  “We need to assess what we’re getting into,” I said.

  “Are you planning on scaling the outside?” she asked.

  I continued to stare at the building, biting my lip in thought.

  “Oh, hell no. That’s fifteen floors up.”

  “Then we go undercover,” Lucy said. “This will be fun.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Party girls, I take it?”

  Lucy brushed a stray lock of her hair out of her face. “Just follow my lead. Gabby, take off your shirt.”

  “What?” I glanced around the street as a couple passed. “Here?”

  She waved her hand. “In the elevator or something.”

  She swaggered to the door, blowing a kiss at the doorman as he held the door open for her. He didn’t notice. His gaze was focused on some place in the distant sky. I frowned at his large pupils and waved my hand in front of his face. He didn’t look my direction.

  “Gabby,” Lucy hissed.

  I walked inside and blinked at white opulence. The floor was a white and gray marble with a rectangle in the center that looked like a looping dragon. The Surrey was one of New York’s upscale hotels. Only the best for the best or at least those who had money to pretend they were the best. The lobby was empty except for the concierge and the bellhop.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “We’re guests for the Presidential suite.”

  The concierge turned in my direction, but his eyes looked past me.

  “Passcode?” he asked in a monotone voice.

  “6669,” Lucy said.

  He set a plastic card on the counter. It had a darkened strip like a credit card, but the hotel’s logo was on the front. He po
inted behind us. “Take the elevator to the top.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I glanced back at the hotel employees as we left the desk. Both stared at the floor with blank expressions. Their bodies swayed from side to side ever so slightly.

  “I think they’re hypnotized,” I said. “The doorman, too.”

  “That explains how people can come and go without the staff questioning it,” Lucy said.

  “They probably got the whole hotel,” Marge said.

  “Let’s continue under the assumption that everyone might be a potential threat,” I said.

  I stopped and stared at the metal double doors. Merda. Climbing the stairs in a building this tall would take too long. I took a deep breath and pushed the button. Lucy patted me on the shoulder. We stepped inside. I stood in the middle, closest to the doors. My stomach dropped as we rose. The lights at the top counted off each floor we passed. I breathed in slowly and exhaled. I swayed a bit. My face was on fire. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.

  “Gabby, take your shirt off.” Lucy reached over and yanked Marge’s shirt up.

  “Hey!” Marge pulled them back down.

  “You have to look the part at least,” Lucy said.

  “Fine,” Marge let her pull the shirt back up.

  I slipped my long jacket off and check that my sword was tucked in its sheath on my back. I pulled my shirt over my head and put my jacket back on. “So, we have at least one demon that can hypnotize. I’m betting on a succubus.”

  “Two with Cambione,” Lucy said.

  “I’m hoping for more,” Marge said. “A real party. Just remember that Cambione is mine.”

  “There probably will be . . .” I put my hand on the doors to steady myself. Floor ten. “Bystanders there.”

  “They’re druggies,” Marge said. “They chose to be here. Fuck ‘em.”

  “Just because they wanted a good time doesn’t mean they deserve to be hurt,” Lucy said with an edge in her voice. “They didn’t know what they were getting into.”

  I spoke with an equal edge. “Maybe they should learn there are consequences to their actions.”

  “So now you’re anti-drug?” Lucy asked.