by Sariah Skye
I snorted. “It’s plain as day. It just says, ‘I’m looking for you.’ That’s all.”
“You—what? No…” Trystan grabbed the page back, staring at it intently. “It doesn’t say that!”
“It doesn’t say anything!” Xander protested.
Glaring, I reached up, and snatched the page out of Trystan’s hands. “Look. It’s clear. ‘I. Am. Looking. For. You.’” I pointed to each word as I read.
“Fuck.” Was all Xander said.
“Shite.” Trystan echoed his sentiment, basically. He ran to the stairs and began to shout. “Bash! Get yer arse down here! Now!” When he didn’t respond right away, Trystan bounded up the stairs, two at a time, and I could hear his heavy footsteps as he thudded down the hallway to Bash’s room.
I shrugged at Xander. “What’s the big deal?”
Xander gripped his hair at the roots, tugging slightly. “Avie, if you can read this, and we can’t…there’s only one explanation.”
I stared at him blankly. “What?”
“It’s spelled for you. And, ‘I’m looking for you’ doesn’t exactly sound innocent,” Xander said, with a frown.
I sighed in frustration. “Who do you think it’s from then?”
Xander patted my thigh sympathetically. “I don’t know, Ava. I really don’t. But we’re going to watch out for you, okay? No one is going to hurt you again.” The expression on his face was earnest, and it warmed my heart.
I nodded. “Okay,” I said in a small voice.
The front door whipped open, and Mathias blew in, waving his face with his hand. He let out a low whistle. “It’s hot out there!” A deep blue sport jacket was slung over his arm, and he tossed it on the nearby chair, and unbuttoned his light gray shirt down to the middle of his chest. I slowly smirked, watching his demure little strip tease.
Xander snickered and gave me a playful shove. “I saw that.”
I rolled my eyes, feigning mock offense. “So?”
Mathias shook his head, grinning, as he folded himself onto the other side of the sofa. He clapped his hands together, and leaned over, placed his elbows on his thighs, and looked at me expectantly. “So, from everything I heard and saw, everything with the Stargazer is on the up and up!”
My mouth fell open slowly. “What? No…really? I can’t believe that.”
Xander glanced between us, looking bewildered. “Okay so recap? I didn’t really catch the full story this morning. ”
“Apparently, Marian—err, Morgaine—” Mathias spat the name out as if he were tasting bitter medicine, “—is officially declared deceased by the state of Minnesota, and everything in her estate has gone to Ava. Including the club she secretly owned.” Mathias eyebrows tipped upward, pointedly.
Xander’s expression lit up with understanding. “So it’s really true? You own the Stargazer now?”
I shrugged uncomfortably. “I…guess so?”
“That’s…that’s…” Xander struggled with words. “Not sure? Is that good?”
“Pulls in around $900k a year; I confirmed it with the current operator,” Mathias said, beaming wildly.
I stifled a smile. Almost a million dollars? That was insane! But…I was no club owner. I didn’t even like clubs; they made me anxious, and claustrophobic.
Xander wasn’t as nonplussed as me. He pressed a hand over his mouth to suppress his excited exclamations. “What the—holy shit! I definitely didn’t hear that part! You can quit the job you hate, Avie!” He said with a large, triumphant grin, reaching out to grasp my arm.
I shrugged. “I…don’t know. I don’t know the first thing about it.”
Mathias chuckled dryly. “Neither did Morgaine. She had someone running the entire operation. Now that I think about it—what a perfect set up! The perfect guise to enchant club-goers, steal their energy, and hide the gateway to the Underrealms. It’s perfect, actually!”
I frowned, eyeing both him and Xander hesitantly. “I…don’t know. I mean…I was captured and held there. I just…” I exhaled deeply. “I need to think.”
“Well—we should go see it at least. Think we can get into the actual underground now?” Xander questioned out loud. “Might be able to find some clue on what happened to her, at least.”
Mathias patted my leg intently. “Yes, you should see it first.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Mathias placed a finger on my lips to shush me. “Before you say anything, the club has been closed for about two weeks. There have been some squatters that have caused some damage—just minor vandalism; nothing a good clean-up crew couldn’t handle. It’s totally empty. You really should see it first, before deciding. The property is worth a couple million dollars if you decide to sell—but think about it, Ava. You’d have to be careful who you sell to. We don’t want just anyone having access to those Underrealm portals.”
I cringed, wringing my hands anxiously in my lap. Xander placed a stable hand in between my shoulders, and massaged gently, sensing my unease. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll all be right there. Promise. Nothing will happen,” he crooned with his deep voice.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine, I promise.” Mathias empathized.
“Why don’t I just sell it to you guys?” I asked, looking hopefully at him.
He shook his head gently, with a smile. “If you did, we’d just give you all the money for it anyway. What’s ours is yours, Ava dearest.”
Xander’s head bobbed with affirmation, and I grinned slowly, both uncomfortable and flattered with the idea.
Mathias nudged me. “Go on. Get a shower; I know you’ve been outside all day,” he shot a pointed look over my head at Xander. “Freshen up, get dressed. We’ll meet the operator, and then you can make a decision and see what it’s like. Okay?”
I agreed begrudgingly. “Okay…” I said, sighing with frustration. I looked at Xander and punched him lightly in the side of the leg, grinning. “You too, storm ninja.”
He winked. “You inviting me?”
I rolled my eyes, throwing my hands up in exasperation before I stood, and started off towards my bathroom upstairs.
“There’s a reason that shower is so big, ya know!” He called, laughing after me.
I paused on the stairs, turning to grin at him with saccharine sweetness. “Really? I thought it was for the dogs.”
Mathias howled with laughter. He slugged his friend easily in the chest. “That’s a burn!”
Chuckling, I left Xander with Mathias and his wounded pride. I skipped upstairs to shower, and get ready to see my new, possible endeavor. I also thought about writing a resignation to my previous job as well but that was premature. That thought did fill me with a fleeting bliss.
Sweet.
I showered quickly, but it took me a bit longer to get dressed. What does one wear as a prospective club-owner? Granted, it was empty right now, but…still. I felt the need to make a decent impression on whoever was running the show now. I decided on a solid blue t-shirt and black capri pants, with black flats. I wrapped my hair on top of my head into a smooth bun—which also hid the fact that it was still wet. In this heat? I wasn’t about to dry it. I did professional makeup—not club makeup. Taupe shadow, mulberry liner on my lids, pink blush, and a rose-colored lipstick. How I looked probably wasn’t a big deal, but it made me feel better, and more put together. And therefore, a little less anxious.
After instructions to the dogs to behave—from both Trystan and I—we all piled in Mathias’ huge-ass SUV and made our way into downtown Minneapolis. The guys animatedly discussed the club, and the realization that I could read the mysterious note that was dropped yesterday. But, I just sat silently in the middle row of seats, squished between Trystan and Bash. Once, Trystan asked me if I was okay—I guess, I looked a little green—but I just forced a smile and nodded. Because I was nervous as hell.
Minneapolis was still bustling with the activity of the work day, but we were still a bit early for rush hour, thankfully. Otherwise getting down Hennepin Avenue would be gridlock, and
further add to my nerves. Bash at one point linked an arm with mine and inhaled deeply; probably indicating that I should try it. But it just brought me to the sexy Tai Chi Chih from earlier in the day, and that was another round of distracting nerves I didn’t need.
We pulled into the empty parking lot of the Stargazer, and I grimaced. It sure didn’t look like much during the day; just a dark warehouse building with tinted windows. The club’s neon sign over the front black-iron doors was shut off, and the club itself could be easily missed if we weren’t purposely looking for it. The paint on the doors was chipped along the edges, and I noticed along the dark, brick walls there were several graffiti tags that weren’t there three weeks ago.
“This doesn’t look promising,” I said uncertainly, after Mathias parked near the building, and everyone filed out. There was one other vehicle in the parking lot—a ritzy, white BMW—which appeared out of place in this dingy warehouse area.
“This can be easily fixed, Ava,” Trystan said. “Just a coat of paint is all.”
I glared at him severely. “Are you going to paint it?”
He shrugged. “If I have to.”
The severe expression on my face softened. “Sorry. Really, I’m…just a bit weirded out.”
“The operator should be out soon, I texted him when we drove in the parking lot,” Mathias said. He still appeared business-ready, but more casual in dark tan khakis and a white polo shirt; a briefcase in hand.
On cue, one of the front doors opened, and out emerged a very young man; he couldn’t have been more than twenty at oldest. He was short and slim, with shaggy, white stubble on his chin and jawline, piercing gray eyes, and spiky white blond hair. I mean…unnaturally white. He wore very simple, casual clothing; jeans, and a blue polo shirt, but there was something… different about him I couldn’t quite place.
Bash apparently noticed it too, because as Mathias stepped forward, he thrust out an arm to stop him. They seemed to have a telepathic exchange, and Mathias stepped back.
Bash approached the boy—err, man. Narrowing his eyes, and inhaling deeply to puff out his chest, he held out his hand. “Sebastian Porter.” His tone was firm, but not unkind.
The blond guy looked over him hesitantly, before eyeing each of us as well. His brow furrowed. “I am Lincoln Abrams. I’ve been operating the Stargazer for the past year now. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He took Bash’s hand, and they clasped forearms, the two glaring each other down inquisitively. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut, and I wanted to bolt back into the vehicle, but Xander threaded his fingers through mine, and winked gently. There was a method to Bash’s madness, his look said. I just needed to trust him.
“You’re incubi, aren’t you?” Lincoln Abrams said, after a few moments’ silence. His voice was deep, with a heavy vibrato that rivaled Xander’s. It surprised the hell out of me that such a baritone sound could come out of that body.
Bash lifted one of his thick blond brows in response. “Yes, we are. Is that a problem?”
Lincoln Abrams quirked a smile. “Not at all. Quite used to dealing with supes. As you know, Marian was…well…” he trailed off, with a telling smirk. Yeah, we knew all about her, all right. Something by his expression told me he did too.
“And, what exactly are you, Lincoln Abrams?” Bash challenged.
The smirk wiped off Lincoln’s face. “Oh. I’m fae. Or…was. More or less.” He released Bash’s hand, and waved dismissively, as if his announcing his race was no big deal. He glanced away from Bash, and his gaze fell upon me. “Avalon Dawson?”
I still clung to Xander for strength, and I walked towards the fae dragging him along, holding out my free hand. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“I am sorry to hear about your mother.” Lincoln’s tone was mechanical; I doubted his sincerity on that statement.
I snorted. “Well...I’m really not.”
He grinned widely. “Oh. I think we’ll get along just fine.” He reached out his hand, and even though it was the wrong hand—as I refused to drop Xander’s grip—we exchanged an awkward handshake. “Please, call me Link.”
“Link.” I repeated blandly, and I burst out in laughter after a moment’s thought. “Oh! Lincoln Abrams? Abraham Lincoln!? Oh crikey!”
Lincoln— or “Link” —rolled his eyes. “Yes, a very unfortunate name, regardless how you feel about the man. So, I prefer Link, obviously.”
“Strange name for a fae.” Bash stood, still glaring him down, arms folded over his chest. “You’re not just any fae.”
Link tossed him a flippant look. “And you’re not just any witch, but you’re not divulging your secrets, so we’re even.”
Bash grumbled, shaking his head. I glanced at him expectantly.
“Perhaps he doesn’t know himself. Intriguing…” Link said, with an impish grin, stroking his blond beard contemplatively.
Mathias let out a pointed cough, bringing both Bash and Link out of their stare-down. “We’d like to see the property, Mr. Abrams.”
“Right.” Link ignored Bash, turning to me. “Ready?”
I shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”
Link pushed on the metal bar that released the mechanism to open the door and waved us inside. Reluctantly, I entered, and attempted to face my new, possible future… or, confront my haunting past. I wasn’t sure yet.
Chapter Twelve
Bash pushed past the mysterious fae abruptly and entered the club. Mathias followed; I clamped Xander’s hand tightly against my side, and we entered in tandem. There was a brief, dark hallway, empty except for a table and set of chairs, turned over on their sides.
I cringed when we entered the main dancefloor. In the daylight, it was a rough sight, and certainly not very spectacular. The black painted, chipped walls, with their cheesy fluorescent, spacey designs appeared like something a child would paint.
The windows were hazed over with some sort of film, and the floors were sticky when I took a step; the soles of my flats squishing on the floor. I really wished I’d worn boots now! I thought, with a gag. My thoughts trailed back to a fateful day, about three weeks ago, when everything in my life changed. I glanced down at my hand and felt a hint of smile twist my lips. The wound I’d gotten from some rogue incubus stepping on my hand, when I’d fallen to the disgusting ground and Trystan “rescued” me from the floor had pretty much healed instantly, but a slight pink scar still graced my palm.
Man, when I think about it that way, that sounds fucking pathetic. I sneered, shaking my head. But if it hadn’t been for that, chances are I might never have met them. Or, I’d be dead, when my “mother” tried to infuse me with the power of Avalon.
“So, what do you think?” Link asked, and I shook myself out of a daze.
I frowned, giving the room another once over. Napkins and straws were tossed about the bar top, but generally everything appeared to be intact. Albeit, fucking ugly as hell. “It looks like shit.”
Link snorted. “It always looked like shit, frankly. The real club was the Underground. That is where Ms. Dawson made most of her money.”
“Yeah, speaking of that,” Mathias interjected, “how do we even get in there?”
“You don’t know? It’s very simple.” With a motion of his hand, he encouraged us to follow him back into one of the empty hallways. The very same hallway where Mathias and I had kissed for the first time.
Also, the time where apparently, my father was following him, invisibly, and slugged the back of his head like an overprotective Neanderthal.
Link went for the lone payphone, next to a tall, metal chair that sat in the otherwise dark and empty hallway. He lifted the receiver, typed in a set of numbers, and the outline of a door appeared about two feet away.
I slapped my palm against my forehead. “You have to be kidding me. What is the code?”
Mathias stood, frustrated, shaking his head. “It was there all along…”
“The code is 52623568,” Link said. “No, I’m not sure how
to change it just yet. But I’m working on it.”
My brow furrowed. “Why that?”
Bash raked a hand over his face. “It spells ‘Lancelot’.”
I stifled a gag. “I just threw up in my mouth.”
“Och, me too,” Trystan echoed.
Link raised a brow. “That is…an interesting choice.” He stood quietly, as if waiting for us to divulge. When none of us offered, he motioned for us to follow him through the door. It had no knob or handle, but he waved his hand over the seam, and it opened, allowing us to enter.
We entered a dark room, but in the dim light of a red fixture overhead, I noticed the outline of a staircase that led downstairs. I hesitantly glanced around, and noticed the dim red lighting that edged the outline of the walls.
A feeling of unease and nausea began to rile my stomach, as my mind flashed back to the endless moments I spent captured and bound in the dark room, probably somewhere nearby. My breath turned ragged, and Xander—still clutching my hand—yanked me under his shoulder. “It’s okay, Avie…”
Link noticed my unease. “What is wrong?”
Bash growled under his breath. “Once we know we can trust you, we’ll let you know.”
Link nodded his understanding. “I get it. I’ll contact Finn and have him give his approval of me.”
“Finn? Mr. Finn?” Mathias questioned.
“Finnian, actually. Yes, I suppose that’s him.”
“You’re under his employment?” Mathias sounded surprised and impressed all at once.
Link eyed him strangely and bobbed his head in an uncertain nod. “I guess you could say that. Yes, I work for him. Have for quite some time.”
“That’s great,” I said, my voice strangled. “Can we get out of here?”
“Oh, sorry.” Link fumbled in the dark, smoothing his hand over a wall until I heard a click. Several bright, white lights appeared overhead, illuminating every inch of the small room. It appeared to be nothing but an entry way. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Link said, with a small smile, and began to lead us down the stairs. Red sconces dotted the stairwell, and red strip lighting illuminated each stair. I sucked in an anxious breath; apparently, I was starting to have an aversion to all things red.