by Sariah Skye
“This is the first shit that goes if I keep this hole,” I muttered. “No more red. Ever.”
Xander squeezed my hand, and Trystan sidled up to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“What’s with the red?” Link asked, but Xander glared at him severely.
“Let’s just call it a PTSD reaction, okay?” Xander forced a cordial smile and shook his head dismissively urging Link to drop the subject.
Link obviously wanted to say more, judging by the inquisitive look on his deceptively young face, but he just paused, staring at us silently. “Okay, then,” he said finally, and waved his hand once more at an indiscriminate space on the wall.
“This is the same magic Bash uses?” I quietly questioned.
“Yes, it must be,” Xander whispered, as the wall parted down the center, exposing a large lounge room with a surprisingly classy, regal interior, complete with shiny black and white tiled floor, dark wooden chairs and tables set about strategically, and a long, dark-wooden bar, with rows of shelves behind, filled with expensive liquor. The bar wrapped around half of the room in an ‘L’ shape. At the far end was a low platform stage, with an old-fashioned, silver-bullet microphone, and two rather non-threatening metal cages hung from strong beams on either side of the stage. I knew Summer’s new girlfriend, a red-haired fae named Naomi danced in one of those cages before the club was temporarily closed.
A small piano, and several music stands were pushed towards the back of the wall. It was lit brightly right now, but I could see the red strip-lighting again around the perimeters of the walls; that made me cringe. The room I was held in must be nearby, I thought, swallowing a large, anxious lump in my throat. I attempted to ignore it, because the club was essentially, strangely intriguing.
“This looks like an old speakeasy, from the 1920s!” Bash declared, glancing around; his hostility towards the fae temporarily forgotten. He threw a smirk over his shoulder at Xander, who just grinned back.
“What was that?” I demanded, pointing between the two of them. There was so much more to their story than I was aware.
“I owned a club like this in the ‘20s; in San Francisco,” Xander said, peering around.
“You what? Really?” I asked, astounded at the idea.
He nodded slowly, gently reaching out to a nearby table, running his fingers over one of the back rungs of the black chairs. “Yes. Until the Depression—”
“In the 1930s,” Bash interjected.
I rolled my eyes. “I might not be as old as you fuckers, but I do know history, thanks!” I snapped sardonically at him, but he just chuckled.
“It was just a bar in the early century, but with prohibition, I… converted it.” Xander grinned proudly.
“Look,” Mathias said. I didn’t notice he’d been wandering around, inspecting all the various elements of the room. Link just waited patiently in the room’s center as we browsed. Mathias was pointing upward, to an old, neon sign in a script-style font that hung over the stage that simple said The Underground.
“So, this is really called The Underground. I’ll be damned,” I said, shaking my head. “I always thought that was a nickname.”
“You’ve never been here before?” Link asked, sounding entirely surprised.
A hush fell over the group.
“We have. But not for business or pleasure,” Trystan replied severely, as my gaze drooped down the floor. I watched my feet shuffle over the floor.
“Oh.” Link’s mouth set in a firm line, as he scratched the spikes on head in thought. “Well, originally this area started off as brothel, if you can believe it. There are several rooms off to the side—” he pointed across the room at a blank wall that I knew was probably concealing one of the rooms I’d been held in with magic, “—where women used to take their clients. And it wasn’t just sex; other things would happen too. Supernatural things…”
I felt uneasy again at the notion, and the room began to sway to and fro as Trystan pulled me under his arm tighter. “Hey, luv, don’t go tuning out on us…”
Xander traced circles on my palm with his thumb, stepping in closer to lean his head close to mine. “We can go, Avie. We’ll send someone to deal with this if it’s too much.”
“No!” My woozy head snapped upward. “No,” I said softly this time, with a sigh. “I need to deal with this eventually, right? Maybe there are clues here as to what happened to my mother,” I whispered, just low enough so that they could hear me.
“She’s right,” Bash had joined us, exchanging concerned looks with his friends. “But, we can search, and someone will take you to the car. We’ll be fine on our own.”
I shook my head quickly. “No. If there’s a clue to be had, I want to find it. I need to… I need to…” I trailed off, glancing up at him pleadingly.
Bash pulled out a chair from the nearby table; the legs scraping noisily on the ground and urged me to sit down. “Your magic is going in and out, not sure if you noticed. Just sit down and relax.”
“Can we get some water here?” Trystan quickly kissed my forehead, and walked away, pulling Link by the arm over to the bar.
Xander urged me to sit, and knelt down with me so we were level, clutching both my hands in his. He didn’t say anything, but he just held my hands, eyeing me with worry.
Mathis grumbled. “Shit. I’ll be back, going to make a call.” He traipsed out of the room, up the stairs to make his call as Trystan returned with a glass of water.
“Here,” he said, with a wry smile.
I took it from him, the cool glass soothing to my hands and lips as I took a long drink.
Bash patted my shoulder and walked off, saying he was going to chat with Link.
“You never did tell us what happened, Ava,” Xander spoke in his low, dulcet tones; his voice soothing, and titillating in all the right ways. However, I wasn’t in the mood for titillation; one usually isn’t, when they feel like they’re about to have a panic attack.
I rubbed my temples with my fingers, squinting my eyes shut. “What’s to tell? I was in a room with all the red lights, and I kept falling asleep or whatever until she—Morgaine, I guess—came and got me, stripped me bare, poured that shit all over me, and tied me up. You know the rest.” My eyes widened at a sudden thought, and I smacked my hand over my face, scrubbing it over my nose and mouth with a groan. “Oh dear god, I just realized you’ve all seen me fucking naked.”
Trystan snorted. “Lassie, that was the last thing we were thinking at that point. We didn’t even notice; we were in feral mode.”
“Feral mode?” I copied, daring to peek through the cracks in the fingers of my hand at his earnest face.
“Yes. At the end of the day, we’re still demons. Well, partly,” Xander added dryly. “But, when triggered with some sort of extreme emotion—fear, anger, whatever—our humanity takes a backseat, and we go into fight mode. That doesn’t necessarily mean violence, just means we can shut off our emotions and do what needs doing.”
“And you were in…feral mode?”
Trystan cocked his head and attempted to peel my hands off my face. “Aye. Though feral isn’t the right name for it,” he shot Xander a strange look. “Makes us sound like fuckin’ dogs.”
Xander rolled his eyes, slugging his friend in the bicep. “You know what I mean, douchenozzle.”
I grinned at their easy banter, temporarily forgetting my terror.
“Well.” Mathias’ interrupted our conversation, and we turned as he re-entered. “I just spoke to Mr. Finn. Or Finnian, whatever.”
Link was expectant, turning away from his hushed conversation with Bash. “And?”
“He confirmed what you said, Mr. Abrams—” Link began to correct him, but Mathias held up a hand. “Link. He said you could be trusted inexplicably, but seeing as how I don’t trust anyone but the people I live with fully—”
“—and the bears!” Trystan quipped, and I smirked at his levity.
Mathias shot him a dirty look, but the q
uirk of a smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “Ahem. So I will tell you a little. The woman you know as Marian Dawson isn’t as she appears to be. She’s actually a very devious, deceitful witch.”
Link chuckled dryly. “You think I didn’t know that? Please. I’m not as stupid or naïve as you think I am.”
Bash let out a skeptic laugh. “Come on. I know fae look young, but how old are you, exactly? Twenty?”
Link grinned smugly. “Let’s just say, I know exactly what all of you are—all of you—” he said pointedly at Bash, “—and when you were born. Roman. Highlander. Remnant of the witch trials. Gold Rush immigrant,” he said, pointing at each of them in turn, and they all winced. “I’m older than you think I am. Definitely older than you, Jian Xiang.”
Xander finally dropped my hand, and stood, his face menacing at the use of his real name. He flicked open his hand, and tiny sparks of lightning flew out. “How did you know that?”
Link’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, I just get defensive. The age. I promise you, though…I’m an ally. I just want to help, if nothing else to get this club sold and out of your hair, or help you run it. Nothing more, nothing less. But I am aware of Marian’s activities. I know something happened to you, Ava,” he said quietly to me. “The power coming from you is…distracting. But not intolerable. It is not of this world, or time.”
“Wait—this world? What other world is there?” My upper lip curled in a freaked-out, disgusted sneer.
“That’s a conversation for later.”
Mathias grumbled loudly. “All right. Link, since you know already Marian was up to no good, is the under-cavern area still accessible? We’d like to search for clues; maybe Mor—Marian—has left a trace behind.”
“It is important we find her,” Bash echoed.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, and that’s the truth. All I know of her supernatural dealings—the stealing energy from humans and supes alike, with the help of incubi like yourselves, or other such sexually-charged spells—were committed alongside this club. Sometimes she’d just enchant whole crowds and you could see her practically suck the power up as she sang—”
“—Wait. The enchantress. Was that her?” I asked. “I always figured it was…well, someone else.”
“Master of glamour, remember?” Trystan appeared disgusted.
I scoffed. “Explains why she sucked so hard.”
“So, this cavernous area is new to me,” Link finished, raising an intrigued brow.
Mathias exchanged a glance with Bash, and they nodded in unspoken agreement. “Follow me.”
Chapter Thirteen
I don’t know how Mathias knew about the entrance to the cavern area; what’s more I don’t know how I successfully made it down there without passing out from anxiety. I knew last time I’d been here I was unconscious, and Xander had carried me out of the club to his vehicle. Somehow, my stealth went into protective mode and activated that night; no one even saw us leaving the club. Which was good because hot or not, any guy carrying an unconscious woman out of a club would be suspicious.
Link showed to a hallway of rooms, just off the corner of the club, one of them I dared to peek in. Even completely dark I could see it was very similar to the one my mother had held me in before she performed the ritual. But at the end of the hall, apparently unbeknownst to Link, was a hidden exit, leading to a cold, rocky, cavernous path; leading and winding like a drunk staircase to an underground pit. To a place where my mother apparently hadn’t given up practicing witchcraft like she once told me she had.
Somehow, even as far underground as we were, the air was still stifling and heavy where it should have been cool, and clammy. It was supposed to be cooler underground, right?
Evidently, no one told the entrance to the Underrealms that.
It was difficult to see as we traversed, with nothing but our phones illuminating the way; thank god for bright flashlight apps.
“So this is what Indiana Jones felt like,” I said, as we turned a curve, and I brushed against some cobwebs on a hard stone wall. I jumped away, swatting them wildly. “I don’t like it.”
Xander was next to me, and chuckled. “You just need the hat.”
I stole a playful glance at him. “And the whip.”
Finally, the winding cavern straightened, and we reached a tall, jagged opening; half covered with large, gray, and brown boulders.
Mathias pushed the short sleeves of his shirt even further up his massive biceps and began to remove boulders. He effortlessly rolled and lifted away a handful of them; they had to weigh at least half a ton. As he moved, his shirt strained over his body, and his posture seemed inches taller. I swallowed thickly, watching him with both intrigue and concern. His power was formidable…and sexy as hell. If I thought about it, I could imagine him lifting me that easily, pinning me to a wall, and—
I shuddered, pangs of yearning racing all up and down my spine, settling low in my belly. A slight buzzing in my mind returned, and I took a massive breath to relax both it and my dirty mind.
“You okay?” Xander asked, as I fanned myself with a palm.
“Sure, just hot.” I said, fighting to remove my gaze off Mathias’ impressive taut, exquisite body as he worked. Xander noticed what I was watching and rolled his eyes. I coughed nonchalantly. “He’s not going to enrage, is he?” I said quickly, changing the subject. It was also a valid worry—and a good distraction.
“He—what?” Link asked with disbelief.
Trystan scoffed, waving him off. “Och, it’s nothing. He’s just really strong.”
“I see that.” Link shook his head in amazement. Mathias appeared to be lifting nothing more than small rocks, not massive boulders.
“That should do it,” Mathias said; his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. He, Bash, and Link stepped forward first, shining their phones into the wide-open cave.
I gasped, everything was just how it’d been left after the ritual.
The large room was nothing more than a cave, with smooth, tan, and grayish-brown walls and ceilings. Three of the chains that had bound the guys were still attached to large, iron pegs buried deep in the stone walls. One glance and I noticed the blood stains on the dirt ground under the chains nearest to me, where Mathias had been bound if I remembered correctly. Tears pricked my eyes when I remembered how helpless I felt, as I watched them chained and bleeding on the ground.
Two pairs of arms snuck around me; Trystan’s around my shoulders, Xander’s around my waist. Both pressed themselves tightly against me giving me stability. I offered them a thankful gaze each, and urged them to follow the rest of the group in with me.
Of course, in the middle lay the stone dais, where my mother had the so-called “holy grail”, which had contained the power of Avalon all these years. I knew Bash had taken it, and it was now stored in his nerdy laboratory. My gaze traced to the right, and I gagged gently at the nearby sight of about a dozen crumpled, cloaked bodies; my mother’s minions. Her “sisters” as she called them.
Yeah, clearly, we could see how well she treated family. The proof lay dead on the ground, their cloaks draped over them haphazardly, decaying hands reaching out to the center of the circle. And of course, at the daughter she tried to sacrifice to imbue with some fuckin’ bizarre-ass magic!
“I’m going to go check it out, some, okay?” Xander said, kissing my cheek gently, nodding at Trystan before releasing me, and joining Bash at the dais. Mathias and Link had wandered towards a gap in the wall, and Mathias called that they were going to quickly explore. I didn’t remember that area from before but then again, I was otherwise occupied.
“I saw enough of this place when we were here, don’t need to see it again. Right, lass?” He said, feigning a playful wink. “We can just stay here.”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I want to see if we can find anything.”
Trystan sighed with disapproval, but held a hand out in front of him, indicating that he’d assist me where
ver.
I felt that slight buzzing feeling in the back of my mind again, as we hesitantly traipsed about the room, eventually coming to the pile of cloaked bones. Breathing deeply, I pushed it back in my mind.
I leaned over to push aside one of the cloaks, but Trystan held out an arm to stop me. “I don’t think you want to do that, Avie. Really.”
I wrinkled my nose at the thought, but still I was compelled. One of the cloaks was less lumpy than the others.
“Avie—” Trystan protested, as I gingerly reached out for the hood.
I quickly pulled it aside, and gasped.
“There’s nothing there?” I pulled aside more of the wispy fabric, revealing more of the dusty ground and stone…
…and a piece of yellow parchment.
“Huh?”
Trystan nudged me aside and reached for the paper. I snorted at him stubbornly, as he held it precariously between two fingers. “There’s…blood on it.”
“Blood?” He lowered the note so I could see; sure enough, splatters of dried blood had congealed with the ink and paper.
“Guys!” Trystan hollered. Bash and Xander dismissed their conversation at the dais, Bash thrusting something into the front pockets of his jeans. Trystan shook the page in front of them, and Xander snatched it with ninja precision.
“That same weird language.” He offered it to Bash, who scanned it, shaking his head. He turned it around so I could see. “Can you read this?”
I squinted and focused in on the odd script. It was similar to the other one, but this time the script was messier. “I think so…it’s sloppy, like it was written quick. The last word just trails off...but it’s something like, ‘I…am…kill…’” I frowned, squinting. “I’m not sure if I’m seeing this right, but it looks like part was scratched out.”
“Och, shite.” Trystan cursed, kneading his forehead in distress with the fingers of his free hand.