I suspected she was too far gone to understand, but I told her everything, from Rick’s involvement in Gary’s turning to Nekomata’s purchase of my house. With the music as loud as it was, I doubted anyone could hear as I stage-whispered into her ear, but still, to be safe, I used code words for the supernatural parts, such as saying Gary’s change rather than the word vampire. Michelle seemed to get the gist anyway.
“And now Rick’s missing?”
“Yeah.”
“Crap.”
“I know, right?”
“What are you going to do about your house?”
I shrugged. “It’s already sold, Michelle. What can I do?”
She lowered her chin and raised an eyebrow. “You can do a lot of things. You wrote the book on magical ways of getting things done.”
“Yep. And I’ll be consulting that book first thing Monday morning, but first I need to get my head around why all this is happening. This buyer won’t be the last if I don’t figure out why my house has been targeted.”
“You don’t think it’s the prime location?” Michelle asked, obviously referring to the property’s placement next to a hellmouth.
“That would be too easy. I think it’s more than that, unfortunately.”
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I turned my head to see Logan standing close behind me, a wide, tipsy grin coloring his face. “What’s unfortunate?”
His green eyes pierced into me, set off by the sharp charcoal shirt he wore. “Someone bought my house,” I said.
Logan’s face fell, sobering. “What about the attic?”
I searched the crowd of strangers pressing in around us. “What about it?” I laughed.
He slid his hand down my arm and found my fingers. “Can I talk to you in my office for a moment?”
He didn’t wait for me to say yes. With a yank, he pulled me from my barstool. I swung an arm out with Ninja-like precision and hooked my wine glass with my palm before following him through the crowd. Halfway to his office, a familiar face jutted between us. I put on the brakes, forcing Logan to stop.
“Grateful! Great to see you out and about.” Detective Silas Flynn slapped me on the shoulder. “I take it this is a social visit?”
“Uh, yeah. Totally social tonight, Silas.”
“Good, because I have the night off.” He reached into the crowd and a golden brown hand emerged, followed by the unforgettable presence of a fairy we both knew.
“Soleil.” I smiled, and she hugged me hello. “So you two are dating, huh?”
She glanced at the floor and a slight golden glow heated the air around her. “What can I say? He gives me the moon.”
Silas turned toward her, and his pupils dilated to the size of plates. Wow. There were some serious feelings going on there.
“And you give me the sun, darling.”
Next to me, Logan cleared his throat.
“Oh, ah, these are my friends, Silas and Soleil,” I stated awkwardly. “This is Logan.” Logan extended his hand to greet the two.
“The guest of honor! Of course we know Logan,” Silas said.
“Good to see you again Detective Flynn,” Logan said. “And nice to meet you, Soleil.”
“You know each other?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at Silas.
“I covered a break in at Valentine’s a few weeks ago.”
“Oh.” I nodded a few times, wondering why Silas would have gotten involved, unless they suspected a supernatural. It was the wrong time and place to ask.
Silas fixated on our coupled hands. “How do you know Logan?”
“He’s my, er, friend. We’re just friends…who need to talk.” The awkward aftermath was my cue to move things along. I said my goodbyes and followed Logan into a small room near the back housing a desk laden with stacks of paperwork. He closed the door behind us, and I smoothed my green dress.
“You look beautiful,” Logan said, eyeing me from head to toe. “The green brings out your eyes.”
“Thank you,” I said. Maybe I should have worn pants.
“Now what’s this about your house?”
I told him and my theory that it had something to do with the Book of Flesh and Bone. “Have you seen your mom again?” I asked.
“No, just that one time. But…”
“But what?”
“I’ve been having these dreams.”
“What kind of dreams?” Deja vu. If he said he’d had a sex dream about Rick, I was going to scream.
“There’s this woman. I never see her face because she’s always in the shadows. She says if I help her find what she’s looking for, she’ll reward me.”
My eyebrows eased down my forehead and squinched over my nose. “What does she want you to find?”
“That’s just it. I never find out. The woman motions for me to approach, like she’s going to whisper something in my ear, and before I can get close enough to hear her, my mother pops up.”
“Your mother? Your dead mother?”
“Yeah. She pops up between me and this woman, just like in my living room, and tells me to find you.”
“Wait. You’re mother is sending you messages in your dreams to find me?”
“Apparently.”
“So what does she say you’re supposed to do when you find me?”
“She doesn’t. But I have a theory.”
This was too much to take sober. I held up one finger and gulped down my wine. The Cabernet tasted bitter, like maybe the cork went bad before they opened the bottle, but I was so desperate for numbing I finished it anyway. When I lowered my glass, Logan was standing directly in front of me.
He locked eyes with me, lifted the empty glass from my hand, and lowered it to the desk. “I think the hooded woman represents every relationship I’ve ever had. Sensual but faceless, promising but meaningless, and my mom is telling me to find what’s real. She wants me to find you.”
“I don’t think that’s what it means, Logan. I can’t be with you. I’m, ah, I’m—”
His face was so close, and the wine was rushing to my head. Something else, I was woozy. His eyes seemed to twinkle in a cartoony way, and light played in his hair, tiny dancing bears of white light. Shit! I was tripping. There was something more than wine in that drink. What the hell?
“Theresomethinsflibbitygibbit.” I was not making any sense. The floor bent up to say hello and I steadied myself on the first thing I could reach, which happened to be his hips. He took that as encouragement and pressed into me, his spicy cologne seeming to waft through me in my altered state.
And then he was kissing me, a human kiss that was nothing at all like the ones we’d shared when he was a ghost. Even in my altered state I couldn’t deny the heat. His lips met mine, soft and warm. He pressed me into the wall, his body enveloping me as his tongue invaded my mouth. I didn’t so much return the kiss as absorb it.
I felt like I’d gone down the rabbit hole. One moment I was kissing Logan, and the next Rick’s face was in front of me. Wait. That was Rick. And he was pissed. He held Logan off me with one hand and held me up with the other. He looked at me with vile contempt.
“Grateful,” he said. Wait. What happened to mi cielo? “I always knew I loved you more, but I never thought you were cruel. Why did you send Poe to find me? Did you want me to see this?”
“No.” I fumbled forward. My hand trailed through the air in front of me. “Mishtake,” I slurred.
But he wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he was fending off Logan who was getting all, ‘back off buddy’ in Rick’s face. I stumbled to the desk, unable to process what he was saying.
“We love each other. We have something,” Logan said.
Who was he talking about? I didn’t love Logan. Sure, I’d been attracted to him and we shared a deep friendship, but love? I needed to explain.
I turned toward Rick but he was gone. Logan was on his ass on the floor and the door to the office was hanging off its hinges. I stumbled back out into the crowd, calling for R
ick.
“Top of the evening to ya,” the shy redheaded guy said to me, blocking my path. “Hope you’re enjoying the little something extra in your drink.” He grinned wickedly. I noticed he had a number of gold teeth. He leaned in closer. “Nobody steals a leprechaun’s seat at the bar. Not even you, Hecate. See you soon.” He spit on my shoes, and blended away into the blob of colors I recognized as the crowd.
See you soon? Not if I saw him first. I swam toward the door, hoping I could catch up with Rick. How long did it take me? I have no idea. Time was doing weird things just as the walls were buckling in on me. Somehow, I spilled out into the parking lot, thankful for the deep breath of cold air that filled my lungs.
A broad fist connected with the side of my face. OW! I tried to retaliate but my arms wouldn’t work. BAM! A foot slammed into my ribs. Then the concrete bent up to give me a kiss. Oh, how sweet. Ouch, my head. That’s all right, I decided. I could sleep right here on the pavement.
Chapter 16
Rude Awakening
Ch-ch-ch-chatter-chat-chat
Something was clanking together. Oh, my teeth. Maybe that’s why my jaw ached. I tried to slide it back and forth and it cracked painfully. I pressed my lips together. What the hell was going on? I was shivering too. And one side of my head hurt like a bitch. Actually, my whole body ached, and my wrists were stuck. I fluttered my eyes open. What the fuck?
I was not at home, and I was not at Valentine’s. The room was dark, but I could make out stone walls supported by thick wooden beams. There were implements on racks mounted to the walls: canes, whips, clamps, and sharp objects that glinted ominously in the light of the single candle that burned on a small table at the center of the room. Either I was in someone’s red room of pain, or this was an actual dungeon.
I took a moment to survey myself. The reason my teeth were chattering was I’d been stripped down to the white silk and lace slip I’d been wearing under my dress. Even my shoes were gone, my feet numb from the icy cold stone under them. The ache in my back and wrists was due to the latter being bound above my head to the ceiling. When I tried to tilt my head back to get a better look, I groaned.
“She wakes.” The ginger from the bar appeared in front of me, his gold-toothed smile glinting wickedly. An evil leprechaun. Who knew? And to think, I’d felt guilty for stealing his barstool.
“Thank you, Naill,” a woman’s voice, deep but sensual, crooned to my left.” She stepped into my peripheral vision. The way my head hung, I saw her tall-booted leg first, peeking out from the slit in her dress, followed by a long waist. “At last we meet Hecate, or should I call you Grateful?” Red lips pulled back from pearly white fangs.
“Hecate is fine,” I said through the pain in my jaw. “I can think of some things I’d like to call you.”
“Anna. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.” She stepped closer, as if she were inspecting my face.
I looked up into her oversized green eyes and searched my memory for the name Anna. My conversation with Gary popped into my head. “Bathory?”
“The one and only.” She pushed her bouncy brown curls off her shoulder and turned to pace away from me. Bathory definitely had the Jessica Rabbit thing going on below the neck. Her black dress clung like a second skin, a leather corset boosting her major assets shamelessly.
“What do you want?” I managed.
“I want the book,” she snapped. “Tell me where it is, and I will let this incarnation of you live.” She closed in. The scent of blood wafted over me. Whether it was my blood or the stench of her breath, I wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know where it is.” At least this I could be honest about. If she had any powers of observation at all, she’d have to believe me.
“Hmm.” She paced again, the clack of her heels creating an ominous rhythm on the stone floor.
Or maybe it was the cold that was ominous, or the fact that the warm, wet drip making its way down my cheek seemed to be coming from a painful spot on my head. And one of my eyes was hard to keep open. Yeah, now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, I was a mess. I dangled from my bindings like a carrion treat for my vampire captor. Where was Poe? Shit, where was Rick? The events of the night came rushing back to me, and instantly the pain of my physical situation was compounded by an emotional pain that weighed down my chest.
Bathory rounded on me with a piranha smile, all teeth and a promise that her bite was worse than her bark. “I was there the day you burned at the stake. Had I known the book in Monk’s arms had the power it did, I would have taken it then. As it was, when my next meal collapsed, twitching on the ground, I stepped right over my salvation and moved on to the next town. But you hear a lot as a vampire. Men talk and demons share their secrets in the night. Recently, I’ve learned what the book can do. I want it. And one of the last people to see it is back from the dead—you.”
“I don’t know where it is,” I mumbled again. My right eye was officially swollen shut.
The cackle that escaped her lips made new goosebumps play leapfrog over my skin. “Perhaps Indiana can make you talk.” She lifted a five foot bullwhip from somewhere I couldn’t see and used both hands to make the leather snap in front of my good eye. “Have you met Indiana? I named her after Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford was a master with a whip.”
Baring her teeth, she circled the whip above her head and brought the tail down across my chest. I screamed as it bit into my flesh.
“Where is the book?” she growled.
“I don’t know!”
The whip sliced across my thighs. “The book?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” I whimpered.
Again. This time her anger marred her aim and the tail of the whip bit into my bound hands.
My head listed forward. I heaved but nothing came out. “I don’t know,” I whimpered. “Why do you want it, anyway?”
“Interesting,” she said. “Perhaps, you really don’t remember. Allow me to enlighten you. The Book of Flesh and Bone gives the spellcaster power over life and death. Vampires, as you know, are the living dead, bound supernaturally to a certain set of laws. The book would allow me to change those laws.”
“What? Like you’d be able to walk in the sunlight?” I rasped.
“The sunlight, yes. A more natural appearance without the need for illusion. The ability to taste food again. And other things. True immortality. Life in death without limits.”
My head listed on my shoulders. Darkness pressed in around me, my vision a constricting tunnel. I was fighting to remain conscious. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet anymore, just the ache that racked my torso from shoulders to hips. I felt like I’d been in a car accident. “There has to be limits,” I rasped. “Balance.”
Her mouth came close to the ear on the swollen side of my face. “I’ve never been one to follow the rules.”
“Mistress!” The leprechaun was back, yelling and flailing his arms from the stone stairs in the back of the dungeon. “I apologize, but you are needed upstairs. It’s urgent! There’s a fight over a woman and the men have guns.”
As if on cue the sound of breaking glass filtered down from above. The vampire growled low in her throat, then shot me an evil glare. “I’ll be right there, Naill.”
The ginger jogged back the way he’d come.
Bathory turned her full attention on me. “You hang around while I take care of a few things,” she said with a grin. A sharp fingernail pressed into my chest and I watched a drop of blood trickle between my breasts. “Then we’ll see what else we can do to jog your memory.” The words held the threat of violence.
I blinked. She was gone. Or maybe I’d passed out for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure. Whichever it was, I sensed someone else was in the room. Not Bathory, no. The weight of the supernatural presence was different, lighter. Someone was working at the ropes that bound my arms. Slightly behind me, I couldn’t see who it was, and with my face busted up, all I could smell was my own blood.
“Rick?”
“While the pleasure of owning that name isn’t mine, the compliment of your confusion doesn’t escape me. Perhaps, later, you can reward me the way you would him.” The voice was plush as velvet, sinful and smarmy.
“Julius.” My wrists came loose and my arms fell forward, causing an intense pain to shoot through my shoulders. I screamed.
His hand clamped over my mouth and his face came into focus, dark hair, the color of melted chocolate, and too large blue eyes. “Shhh. Even with the fight I staged upstairs, Anna is a very old vampire with acute hearing. We have only moments to escape this place before she undoubtedly becomes suspicious.”
I nodded. The thought that Julius wasn’t rescuing me but rather scavenging me for parts, such as the rest of my blood, crossed my mind. Too bad I had no energy to fight. Remaining conscious was a moment-by-moment battle.
With no effort at all, he tossed me over his shoulder. Pain shot through me once again, ugly, hot pain that made me dry heave. I was pretty sure one of my arms was broken and maybe more. Lucky for me, the added agony pushed me over the edge and blissful unconsciousness took over.
Chapter 17
Out of the Frying Pan
My one good eye cranked open inside a dimly lit room much different from Bathory’s dungeon. The other was still swollen shut. Nestled in a plush, white bed, with a fluffy down comforter, I ran my hand across the smooth fabric of the sheets and glanced around the room. Clean lines. Dark wood nightstand with stainless steel pull. A rice paper screen. A silver-blue straight back chair. Where was I? Desperately, I tried to sit up to get a better look, but a sharp pain thwarted my efforts.
“I think you have a broken rib,” Julius said from behind me.
With some effort, I rolled over to face him. He sat at a larger-than-life desk made of the same almost-black wood of the nightstand. Hunched over a stack of papers, he read by the light of a silver candelabra. That’s why the room was so dim. No electric lights. Only candles.
Carefully, I positioned myself to get a better idea of my chances of escape. Comfortable accommodations but not a window in sight. A heavy wooden door was closed up tight, probably locked. Was this a different type of prison? Or maybe Anna and Julius were working together, a good-cop, bad-cop scenario.
Kick The Candle (Knight Games) Page 12