“Good point. Thank you, Harley.” Malcolm gave me an appreciative nod. “They’ll get banned, anyway, and we’ll put out a nationwide alert on their profiles. They didn’t show up in our system when they came in.”
“Ah, yes, facial recognition cameras. I keep forgetting we have those,” I muttered, as I caught movement at the corner of my eye, then above us. Looking up, the flicker of a shadow in a corner by another vent made me still. I could’ve sworn I’d just seen that long black tail again…
I must be tired.
“They’ll get arrested, too,” Malcolm replied.
I shrugged. “Hey, man, that’s what happens when you don’t keep your nose clean.”
In retrospect, I could’ve ended up a lot worse, as a foster kid. We were the discarded souls that nobody wanted. Most of the kids in the system ended up in juvenile detention centers and, later on, prison.
It wasn’t really their fault. Nobody chooses to be a criminal at the age of twelve. Your environment pushes you. The lack of involvement from the authorities when you signal abuse from one foster parent, then another—it makes you lose any semblance of hope. The system doesn’t believe you, and you grow up distrusting the system in return.
Nobody listens to you. Nobody cares. You do what you can to get by. That’s how it usually goes down for us kids with black garbage bags.
I did good for myself. I stayed out of serious trouble, despite my often-troublesome abilities. Of course, the other foster kids didn’t grow up with a note from their dad, telling them to “stay smart” and “stay safe.”
As miserable as I was without parents to call my own, I still felt a little lucky to have had that handful of words to guide me.
It was better than nothing.
Chapter 3
Shortly after the incident, my shift was over, but the night was far from coming to an end, with about a dozen customers left at the poker and blackjack tables. Only one of them was walking away with more money than he’d come in with. The others filled me with a sense of disappointment, and, at the same time, hope—the idea that they’d try again next time, and maybe beat the house.
I wasn’t a gambler myself, nor would I ever indulge. Given my ability as an empath, I’d already experienced the thrilling highs and the devastating lows from all the players I’d had to sit next to during my work hours. I could never get over the pit in my stomach after watching someone throw twenty grand right into the dealer’s hands. Loss was one emotion I was already familiar with, and it wasn’t something I needed more of. On top of that, at nineteen, I wasn’t even legally allowed to gamble. Working there and pretending to be a gambler, however, was a different story, thanks to several legal loopholes that Malcolm had taken advantage of, in order to get me on his crew.
“You have to let me set you up on a date with Daniel,” Malcolm said with a smile, watching me as I collected my clutch from the top of the bar, then put my leather jacket on. The jacket was one of my favorites, and I rarely parted with it, especially given these cool early spring nights we’d been having lately.
“Now, why would you do that to your own son, Malcolm?” I grinned.
“He’s nineteen; you’re nineteen. You’re a good girl; he’s a good boy. You’re lonely, and Daniel sure could use a female presence in his life. I could go on,” Malcolm replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
His wife died when Daniel was only five, so it had been just the two of them for a very long time. Shortly after he became a single dad, Malcolm put the police badge away and started working in security—a slightly safer line of work, since he couldn’t put his life at such risk anymore. Not while raising a son, anyway.
Malcolm was being truthful, though. Daniel was a good guy, and I’d met him a couple of months earlier. I’d noticed the sweet looks he gave me, but I didn’t think anything of it until Malcolm first suggested a date. This was his third attempt, and it was going to be a no, once again. Daniel was sweet and all, but he just wasn’t my type. Not that I actually knew what my “type” was, but something inside me just didn’t click with Daniel.
Besides, being in a relationship meant I’d have to eventually explain my weird powers, and I was nowhere near ready to have that conversation with anybody.
“Sorry, Malcolm, but it’s still a no for me,” I replied gently, careful not to let him down too hard. “I mean, I’m happy to go out with the both of you, since there’s so much of San Diego I’ve yet to experience, despite growing up here, and you guys know all the good burger joints, apparently… But I’m not getting into the dating game anytime soon, and I’d hate to string Daniel along.”
“Can’t blame an old man for trying.” Malcolm shook his head slowly as the shadow of a smile passed over his face.
“See you in a couple of days.” I winked, waved him goodbye, and walked out through the back door. I’d parked my Daisy in the far-right corner of the employees’ parking lot, away from the others, and I could see her from where I was standing as I searched for my keys at the bottom of the clutch. Customers parked their cars on the other side of the building.
The casino door closed behind me with a loud click, and my fingers finally clasped around my keys. My stomach seemed a bit upset, as if there was a little monster inside, gnawing away at it. Leftover pizza for dinner it is, then.
There were a few other cars in the lot, besides my Mustang, including Malcolm’s black sedan. I walked over to mine, welcoming the cool darkness of midnight. The stars glimmered overhead, in the company of the giant pearl commonly referred to as the moon. I’d always been captivated by it, especially when it was so big and glowing so close to the Earth, though I knew its size was an optical illusion, the horizon tricking my mind and warping reality.
A shadow darted across the asphalt before me, but vanished somewhere behind my Daisy before I could see what it was. I ignored the sudden chill and kept moving, keys in hand, eager to sink into a hot bath at home.
“No, please!” a man yelped somewhere farther down on 55th Street, just where the parking lot ended in its shoddy wooden fence.
My heart hammered in my chest. I walked faster, my stilettos clicking across the asphalt as I reached my car.
“What… What are you?” The same voice grew louder, and I stilled, crippled with horror. But it wasn’t my horror—it was his.
I squinted into the darkness, but couldn’t find the man who had cried out.
Maybe he was just some dude who’d snorted too much of that “good stuff.” But his emotions were far too powerful. I’d experienced drug-induced panics from other people, and none were as intense as the thick sheet of ice constricting my heart in this moment. Besides, my instincts were already telling me to at least find out what was going on, to see if I should call the police.
I walked around the car, toward the fence. I looked down 55th Street, both ways, but there was nothing to see, other than dim orange lights cast by distant streetlamps.
“What the…” I muttered, catching movement somewhere to my right, just where the small apartment blocks started rising, lined with palm trees.
The man whose voice I’d just heard emerged from the shadows. He tripped and fell over, just twenty feet away from me and right in the middle of the street. Fear crashed into me in a second, much more brutal wave, paralyzing my muscles. Oh, man, he’s scared out of his mind.
“Get away from me!” he shrieked, then stumbled to his feet and started running again.
“Dude, are you okay?” I called out as he got closer.
He was pale, paper-white almost, his face drenched in sweat and his crisp, Friday-night-out suit covered in dirt and cuts. He was pretty roughed up, his lip split and a purplish bruise blaring around his left eye. He stared at me for a second, then exhaled sharply with genuine relief. I felt hope bursting inside my chest—his, as he hoped I would save him. From what, though?
“No, I’m not! You’ve got to help me, call the police!” he said, his voice trembling. “I can’t see… I can’t see who it i
s… or what it is, but it just won’t let me be!”
“Um, wait, what?” I got confused, fast.
My initial thought of a drug-related trip gone horribly wrong crossed my mind, until a shadow flickered across the ground. I looked down and saw the long black tail I’d seen earlier inside the casino. It lashed out from the shadows to my right, and coiled its tip around the man’s ankles, sweeping him off his feet.
“What—” I didn’t manage to finish my thought. The man fell hard on his back, screaming as he got dragged away. “No, no, no!”
I dropped my keys and clutch and jumped over the fence, my left heel slipping. Not the best night for stilettos, clearly.
“HELP!” he cried out.
I ran after him, slightly limping from the pain budding in my left ankle. His emotions were toying with my senses, and it took considerable mental effort for me to push it all down so I could focus on what was happening as I followed him.
Whatever had latched onto his ankles had a surprisingly long tail. Snake, maybe? No, what kind of snake can do that?
A large figure took form in the semi-darkness ahead, with light from a streetlamp offering me a better view. My stomach churned, then wriggled itself into a small, painful ball, as I came to a halt. This was not a snake. Nor was it a man.
Whatever this is, it’s not human.
“Oh, God, help me, please!” the man bellowed, desperately scraping at the asphalt beneath him as he was dragged backward.
I tried to catch his hands, his fingers bloodied by his attempts to get away, but I missed him by inches. And then a bloodcurdling growl made me freeze in place. The creature taunting the guy came into view, its big black eyes fixed on me.
As it noticed me, it stopped dragging the man, enough for him to look over his shoulder and cry with exasperation. “What the hell is going on? What’s happening to me?”
“You… You can’t see it?” I murmured, staring at the horrible beast standing before me.
“See what? There’s nothing! I don’t… How is… Why is this happening?”
It hit me then that the man couldn’t see the creature taunting him. I figured it was better that way. He was spared the visual horror.
I was standing face-to-face with some kind of… monster. It was huge, at least eight feet tall, with bulging, pitch-black eyes and two long, twisted horns that sprouted from either side of a crooked, asymmetrical head. Thick strings of drool clung to a pair of enormous fangs, and razor-sharp claws protruded from the ends of its lanky, ape-like limbs. Its skin was leathery, a dark and dirty shade of gray, with spikes erupting from behind its neck. A stringy tail trailed behind it, and, judging by the giant bat wings extending from its back, this thing could also fly.
It growled again, this time louder, as it continued glaring at me.
“What… are you?” I gasped, my own fear taking hold of my bones and joints, pushing my instincts into survival mode.
“You can see… it?” The man gawked at me, blood trickling from his temple.
“Yeah, but, trust me, you don’t want to know.”
It was a weirdly freakish hybrid, a cross between an ape, an overgrown lizard, and a bat, and it was looking way too intensely at me. Claws as big and as sharp as the monster’s took hold of my heart as it let go of the man and smacked him over the back of his head with its tail.
He lost consciousness, and the monster moved over his body, its shadow nearly swallowing him. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to run. But I couldn’t leave the man to die. If our situations were reversed, I knew I’d want someone looking out for me.
Given the disgusting amount of drool, it was dinnertime for the beast, and the dude was its main course.
“Hey! Leave him alone!” I shouted.
Whatever this creature was, it wasn’t interested in meaningful conversation. The monster sneered at me, then shifted its focus back to the guy, its jaws parting with anticipation as it lowered its head for a bite. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked itself into fight mode.
I thrust my arms out to help concentrate my telekinetic powers. First, I had to latch onto it. For some reason, I needed a clear view and angle to “lasso” the target. Fortunately, given how preoccupied the thing was with its meal, that wasn’t hard. I curled my fingers, focusing all my energy into its throat. The creature stilled, then choked as my hold on it tightened.
I was panting hard. I’d never performed such a precise grab before, and certainly not with a target this big. Nevertheless, I latched on and pulled the monster away, swinging my arms up as I tossed it over my head. It snarled as it was forced to part with its prey, sailing through the air.
My breath stopped as I saw where it was going to land.
“My car. Not my car!” I blurted out, then latched onto the creature once more, waving it away from my beloved Daisy.
It missed my Mustang by inches, and crashed into the fence. Wood splinters flew outward, and the monster groaned from the pain, then lifted its head to glare at me. Its anger flowed through me like lightning. I’d really pissed it off now.
The guy behind me came to and gasped, as all he could see were the creature’s claws crushing the asphalt beneath it with each step it took toward me. Think fast, think fast, think fast!
The monster lunged at me, baring its fangs, its black eyes wide and filled with rage. I tried to swat it away again, but it darted to the right. I launched another mental lasso at it, and it jerked to the left. It had already figured out my telekinesis.
“Crap,” I muttered, desperately trying to think of another way out of this mess.
“What?” the guy behind me croaked.
“Run,” I breathed, as the monster veered toward me again.
I put my arms out, hoping I could at least nudge it away, but then a flash of fire exploded between us. The blaze pushed me back a couple of feet. It didn’t hit me, but it certainly got the monster, forcing it into a rough landing on its back.
“What the hell is going on here?” the guy cried out.
“Why do you keep asking me? How the hell am I supposed to know?” I shot back, genuinely exasperated.
It was bad enough that I could see the thing, and still had no idea how to stop it. On top of that, I’d just nearly gotten myself blown up, somehow. All I wanted was a hot bath and a slice of yesterday’s pizza. Was that too much to ask?
“Step aside, miss.” A somewhat familiar voice caught me off guard.
Behind me, a young man emerged from the shadows of the residential building next to the casino’s parking lot. The deep green eyes, the dark curls resting on his forehead, the smooth, dark blue silk of his suit—it was the electric dude I’d seen earlier during the poker game.
The monster grunted, shaking its ginormous head, then looked at us and let out a spine-chilling roar. The electric dude frowned at the creature, pursing his lips as if he were dealing with a smaller-sized nuisance, like a rat, and not the living nightmare slowly getting back up on its hind legs.
“You… You can see it, too?” the guy on the ground asked him.
“Seriously, why are you still here?” I rolled my eyes at the wounded stranger, then pointed at the end of the street. “Just run!”
“No, stay there,” the electric dude replied, his voice low and eerily calm in spite of the raging monster shuddering in preparation for another attack. “You’re a witness.”
“Who are you? And what the hell is this… thing?” I managed, trying to wrap my head around the many unknowns that had gotten between me and my leftover-pizza dinner.
“I’m Wade. Wade Crowley,” the electric dude replied, and only then did I catch the hint of an Irish accent he carried. “And that’s a gargoyle.”
I stared at him, then at the monster, for a couple of seconds, noticing the soot on its horrific face. The fire that had hit it earlier had burned through its thick skin, but hadn’t managed to inflict significant damage. What the heck was it made of?
“A what now?” I blinked several times, my
brain left behind for a moment.
“A gargoyle. Not sure what wasn’t clear about that statement.” Wade raised an eyebrow at me, as if I was the idiot. As if I was supposed to just know what that thing was. He’d made it sound as though gargoyles were as common as sewer rats.
“Well, pardon me for not knowing that gargoyles are real and not just creepy statues!” I shot back, slightly annoyed.
Wade opened his mouth to say something, but the gargoyle’s sudden movements made him put his hands up. The ten rings on his fingers lit up in an incandescent orange, and, to my shock, flames burst from his palms, hitting the monster right in the face. The creature yelped and covered its head with its wings, then growled and darted to the side, dissolving into the darkness behind a small building flanked by a Jeep, just outside the casino’s parking lot.
The way the light fell over it made it difficult to tell whether the gargoyle was still there.
“Did you kill it?” I asked, craning my neck to get a better look, as the guy behind me got up and backed away slowly.
“Nope,” Wade replied, scanning the building. I couldn’t stop staring at his rings, which were still glowing a peculiar shade of amber.
The gargoyle jumped out and landed on top of the Jeep, the hood bending inward under its weight, as it snarled at us. It moved too fast for Wade to hit it with fire again, dodging the flaming balls as it zigzagged across the street toward me and the guy on my right.
“Stay down!” I shouted at him, then tried another telekinetic move on the gargoyle.
I managed to smack its shoulder but didn’t stop it, as it took flight and shot right at me. Light flickered across its face, and I ducked as Wade’s flames hit it hard. Whatever ability Wade had, it was similar to mine, but he was in much better control of his powers than I could even dream of being with mine.
The gargoyle landed on its side, but didn’t give Wade a chance to hit it again, and bolted toward me and the guy once more. This creature was really persistent about getting its dinner.
I put my hands out and managed to latch onto its right wing. It gave me a panicked look, and I slapped the asphalt in a sudden crouch, as it was the only way for me to bring it down, given its considerable size. I felt like the puppet master in charge of a giant white shark, my muscles straining.
Hotbloods 8: Stargazers Page 47