“I’m hoping you could possibly help me.” She smiled and approached the stranger with her paper in hand. “I’m not too familiar with the area and I think I may have written my directions down wrong.”
“Let me take a look,” he said, a hand gesturing for her piece of paper. She slid the directions across the counter and watched as he squinted his eyes to read.
“It’s called the Rabbit Hole.” She dug in her bag to pull out evidence in the form of their disclaimer letter. “Did they happen to move or is this a misprint?”
With her hands and head deep in her bag, she felt the man’s hand still her movements.
“It’s in the back.”
Riley blinked at his words. She hesitated before looking where he nodded. Aside from one small section covered by a curtain, the back wall was a row of freezers full of drinks. Riley had originally assumed the curtain was covering an employees’ only area, but now, with the option to go through the small space, it was looking more like the entrance to hell.
She shivered at the possibility. It was such a small strip of fabric.
Sensing her reluctance, the old man smiled and patted at her arm again. He clearly did not have the same sense of personal space as the people in LA had. “If you want, they have another entrance out back.”
Riley nodded and gave her thanks. “That’s alright. I’ll take the shortcut.” She was a succubus. If she could brave the dark hallways of a violent client on her own free will, the distance between the two shops was no threat to her life. Also, she didn’t want to seem rude.
It was a narrow hallway; no two adults standing side-by-side could walk down the confined space. The poorly lit area had one tiny bulb to illuminate the dark space, and it was flickering its way to burning out.
As Riley walked, she could feel her chest tighten with the anticipation of the unknown. For all she knew, she could be walking straight into the core of a gang-affiliated business where they sold drugs and rare collectables that they snatched from the people they murdered. Or, maybe she’d find a room full of illegal drugs with workers chained to tables, forced to weigh, cut, and package their product all day long as prisoners to the cartel. Riley’s imagination had catapulted her to the top of the cubare community, but in the suffocating hallway, it was giving her a panic attack.
Her anxiety of the small space won out, and her grasp on the curtain to the other store was a godsend.
When she pulled the dark fabric aside, Riley was met with the mixed scent of incense, herbs, and oils. Wisps of smoke could be seen throughout different sections of the shop; some came from candles, while others were from oil burners. Her lungs had to readjust to the dense air as she struggled against a pending cough.
The Rabbit Hole was nothing like the gas station to which it was attached. With an interior much darker than its fluorescent-lit counterpart, the spacious shop was decorated with deep mahogany throughout. On the opposite wall was what Riley supposed was the front door. Thin, white curtains covered the door window, and a bell hung from the framing. Off to the left side stood a high wooden counter, behind it, a shelving unit colored in a matching stain. The display piece was impressive in size as it spanned from floor to the ceiling. Jars of herbs and spices filled every shelf, along with boxes of mysterious items. In fact, almost every display unit, book shelf, and sitting area was well-proportioned.
There were a few other customers scattered throughout the store, each occupied in their own needs. Some of the people were in groups, others by themselves.
From what Riley could see, none of the books on the shelves were anywhere near the size of what she had bought. These books were thin paperbacks that could have been sold at a big box bookstore.
Taking one last glance, Riley took a few steps to venture deeper in. The clack of her heels echoed through the quiet store, and a few people turned their attention toward her. It made her self-conscious, but there wasn’t much she could do about her shoes.
She didn’t get far before being greeted by the soothing voice of the shopkeeper.
“Welcome, Sunshine.” The woman stood an entire head shorter than the succubus. She was older, a little stout in stature, with a mass of greying hair pulled back into a messy bun. Her glasses were perched on the nest-like mane.
When Riley didn’t respond, the smaller woman moved closer. Her oversized skirt swayed with her steps, and the tips of her brown loafers peeked out from under the long fabric. “I said, welcome, Sunshine. How may I be of service?”
Riley blinked and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little spacey lately.”
In an instant, the shopkeeper held up her index finger, and her pudgy face lit up in excitement. “I have the perfect cure for that.”
Before Riley could correct the misunderstanding, the woman had scampered off to the shelves behind the counter and was up on a stepladder. Her small hands pushed bottles aside and opened dozens of boxes. She worked at a frantic speed, as if Riley’s life depended on being focused. A tinge of guilt washed over the succubus; there wasn’t a need for the stranger to work so hard.
Riley couldn’t help but bite her lip as there was some amusement from what she was watching. The kind of customer service the shopkeeper provided was impressive, even if there was a slight misunderstanding. Whatever the lady was hunting down, it would only be fair to buy the product.
“Ha! I found you.” Despite her height, the shopkeeper was determined to reach the item she had been looking for. On the tips of her toes, with one arm outstretched to the point of dislocation, she nabbed the glass jar from the back of the top shelf. Her hand could almost wrap around the entire circumference of the bottle. After hopping down the few steps of the ladder, she placed the bottle on the counter and twisted off the cap.
A vile smell escaped the container. If Riley had needed a cure to wake the dead, she was sure this would have been the recipe to do it. Inside of the jar was a mixture of minced herbs surrounded by an unknown murky substance. She silently hoped she didn’t need to drink it.
“You need to breath in this fine concoction,” the shopkeeper instructed before retightening the lid. Her eyes were beginning to water. “Twice a day, and you’ll have your head on straight soon enough.”
Riley took the jar and observed the mysterious contents. Even she had to admit, it did clear her head better than any menthol product had ever done before. The grogginess from days of dark energy consumption felt lessened by the quick whiff.
“Thank you.” Riley flashed her most sincere smile. “But I was hoping you could help me with one more thing.” She retrieved the book that Morgan had referenced from her bag and placed it on the counter. “I bought this book from here a few days ago.”
The shopkeeper gasped. “Riley Carter?”
Riley’s heart began to beat wildly, and she felt like a deer trapped in headlights. “How did you know my name?”
The woman laughed. “It’s not everyday someone buys that many books on that specific subject.” Her eyes drifted over Riley. “I was expecting a boy. But the name fits you well.” She snatched up the book and fanned its pages. “Was the book not to your liking?” She grinned as her eyes glossed over the table of contents. “I personally think it’s a delightful read. But you are within our refund period.”
Riley narrowed her eyes and whispered, “Do you know what I am?”
“You’re a cute one aren’t you?” The shopkeeper’s small hand gently patted the side of Riley’s face. “Now let’s get you some tea, and I’ll help you the best I can.”
A sitting area resided off to the side of the shop in a nook. Behind it was an open space that could have passed as a modest dance floor. When Mrs. Hanfield, the name of the shopkeeper Riley later learned, had brought her to the little area, she was slightly confused at how the sparsest part of the store could help her.
Bang!
The loud sound caught Riley by surprise, causing her to jerk where she stood. Mrs. Hanfield had slammed her hand onto the first of four distinct panels of woo
d slats on the far section of the wall. Before Riley could voice her concern for the smaller woman’s palm, the four panels began to slide out from their hidden compartments.
At their extended lengths, four full rows of shelving units overtook the open floor. Each row was over ten feet in length and held a variety of odd trinkets and books similar to what Riley had received in the mail. Every item on display looked hand-selected, and Riley wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that they had been gathered from across the globe.
For most consumers, the Rabbit Hole was simply another odds-and-ends shop, filled with spices, herbs, candles, and the best selection—over one hundred scents, their literature boasted—of incense in all of California; conversely, for anyone with allergies or a sensitive nose, it could have been their worst nightmare. Riley observed that sneezing fits were not uncommon in the store. But beyond the simple exterior of the quaint establishment, hidden behind a few select walls, were darker truths the modern world had long forgotten.
“I’ll let you browse, Riley,” the shopkeeper said with a curious smile. “I have some other customers to attend to, and then I’ll be back for you.”
For a time, Mrs. Hanfield left Riley to her own devices at the back of the store. It was there where all the antiquities sat quietly, waiting for the moment that they’d be pulled out into the open air. After store hours, Riley sat at a small table in the sitting nook with Mrs. Hanfield, continuing to explore the treasures that the Rabbit Hole had in stock. As promised, the shopkeeper had made them both tea. Riley stirred a small spoon in her china cup; it was impossible not to think about Morgan. She only drank tea with her.
“Now, let’s see what we can do for you.” Mrs. Hanfield scanned the book titles on the shelves. She tapped her fingertips against pursed lips. “I think … yes,” she said, speaking aloud to herself, “this is what you’re looking for.” She reached for an ancient-looking tome, but even when standing on tiptoes, the book was just out of her curtailed reach.
Riley scrambled to her feet. “Let me help you.”
Mrs. Hanfield grinned. “So chivalrous.” She practically giggled with glee. “You must do well.”
Riley pulled the book from the shelf and handed it to the shopkeeper. “How do you know what I am?”
Mrs. Hanfield flicked a dismissive wrist and motioned for Riley to return to her seat. “You don’t get to own a shop like mine without bumping into a few cubare.” She dropped the book onto the small table; a small cloud of dust puffed up. The teacups rattled with the impact but didn’t spill their contents. Riley waved a hand in front of her face as she used her other arm to shield their drinks from the ancient dust.
“Normally, I’d suggest a simple protection amulet, but your situation seems a bit more serious.” Mrs. Hanfield flipped to the near center of the book and pointed a stout finger to a drawing on the yellowing page. “But, this is what you need, dear, for your incubus problem.”
The dust now settled, Riley leaned forward to better inspect the page. She took in the line rendering of three uniquely shaped stones. “What are they?”
“These amulets will protect whomever uses them. The combination of the three,” Mrs. Hanfield explained, “will keep the cubare from the sleeper’s dreams. Even if it were Lilith herself.”
“So they’re similar to a dream catcher?” Riley asked.
Mrs. Hanfield hummed. “Similar is the key word. Dream catchers keep out the nightmares. These amulets will keep out all the dreams. And without dreams, the cubare have no doorway to enter.”
“So she won’t be able to dream?” The words slipped out of their own fruition.
The shopkeeper’s keen eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Who is it that you’re trying to protect, dear?”
Riley jerked to attention. “This has been extremely helpful, Mrs. Hanfield.”
“Please, call me Meriel,” Mrs. Hanfield corrected.
Riley scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned closer to the pages of the book. “So it’s really that easy?” She read a short passage that accompanied the drawings. “A couple of amulets, and we’re locked out? It sounds like garlic and vampires.”
The shopkeeper nodded. “It’s all true. Well, I’m not sure about the garlic bit. But this is the oldest method on record. It’ll work.”
Riley lowered her voice, even though the last customers had exited the store hours prior. “If it were that simple, then why aren’t we all blocked?”
“You forget that most humans have no idea of your existence. And even if they did, what good would that do? Your kind is most satisfied through dreams. If we blocked it off, then you’d be forced to drain energy in person.” She topped off Riley’s still-full teacup. “If that scenario doesn’t stir trouble, I don’t know what would.”
The succubus nodded wistfully at the awful thought. She could imagine how angry the cubare community would be if they were dependent on feeding outside of the realm. There was so much risk and not enough gain to justify the means.
The two women continued their conversation, enthusiasm and curiosity fueling the discussion late into the evening. In the few hours that Riley spent at the shop, she learned far more about her own kind than she ever had from other cubare or even from the archives at work. She wouldn’t be leaving empty-handed. With Meriel’s help, Riley had filled three large bags worth of goods. The last time she had bought so many things, Madison had dragged her to the fashion district.
It had been tempting to buy everything she had touched throughout the day. They were like tales from another world: theories, spells, biographies, and more. She couldn’t stop thumbing through the pages or observing the worldly trinkets. For the books she purchased, she would have to store many of her old company manuals to make room for them.
But the most important objects sat on top of the bagged items. The amulets Morgan would require were carefully packaged in bubble wrap and packing paper.
When the sun disappeared into the horizon, Riley decided it was best to begin her trip home. She had a few clients to see before visiting Morgan, and she didn’t want to be late.
• • •
That night, when Riley arrived in Morgan’s dream, she brought the amulets with her instead of a bag of books. She dangled the metal charms by their chains and held them in front of the other girl. Each piece bore slightly different markings and different colored stones. Morgan looked skeptical at her findings.
Her fingers traced over the metal detailing, and she inspected the delicate craftsmanship closely. “This will work?” She eyed Riley with suspicion. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re very pretty, but I honestly was expecting something more …”
“Ancient and grand?” Riley folded the chains into Morgan’s hand. “I was underwhelmed, too, but the woman at the store was pretty convincing. You’ll have to take them out of the realm when you wake up.”
“Well, I have a great teacher.” Morgan stepped closer to the succubus. It was the closest they had been since the night of the break in. “I’m sure I’ll be able to do it.”
Even though this was a dream, Riley could feel the heat radiating off of the human’s body. The air surrounding her was laced with Morgan’s subtle scent, and it was intoxicating. There was a magnetic pull toward the other woman, and Riley couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the same outside of the realm.
“What do I do with these once I wake up?” Morgan gripped the amulets together.
“You need to hang them on your wall. Each side or one side, but they need to be in the room you sleep in.”
Morgan inspected the simple stones that would be the resolution to her nightmares. “So I hang these up in whatever room I’m sleeping in, and I’ll be protected,” she echoed. “I don’t suppose you know how they actually work outside of magic?”
Riley’s lip curled up on one side. “That big brain of yours is working overtime, huh?”
Morgan nodded. She flexed her fingers around the amulets and they clacked against each other.
“They prevent you from having dreams.”
Morgan looked up sharply. “I won’t be able to dream?”
Riley felt guilty all over again. She had never wanted this for Morgan. The average person might take dreams for granted, but as a succubus who rarely had the ability to dream herself, she knew what she was asking Morgan to give up.
“Why can’t I lock the doors and cast bars on the windows?” Her gaze lifted and turned to the kitchen. When Riley looked as well, a set of black bars had appeared over the restored windowpane.
Riley laid her hand on Morgan’s forearm. “Stop. You’ll be tired when you wake up,” she stated quietly. “If there’s a dream, there’s always a way in.” She sighed at the truth of her words. “Your locked door didn’t stop me from entering my first time.” Riley cracked a weak smile in an attempt to lessen the thickness of the air.
“I’ll get rid of the spare key.”
“I know you will.” She faltered and pulled the woman into a quick hug. Morgan’s hair smelled clean and sweet. “Until I can understand that brain of yours, I can’t assume that it’ll be enough to keep you safe. Right now, all I know is that blocking all access is the safest bet.” She pulled back and distanced their bodies.
Morgan’s lower lip stuck out. “I think I’d much rather have you here with me.”
“I would if that would be enough. But you saw what happened to your home. What if they blindside you and flash in here without warning? No sofa against a door will save you then.”
Morgan had a point about her dreams; her brain worked in a mysterious way. In Riley’s own experience, it wasn’t until later into their visits that she could flash herself directly inside. Each time before had deflected her to the exterior of Morgan’s home. And with the rate in which she was learning to manipulate the realm, Riley was sure Morgan would be able to defend herself. But it was, however, a theory she didn’t want to test.
Riley slipped the card out of her back pocket, second-guessing if she should give it to Morgan. She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve got something else for you.”
Drained: The Lucid Page 29