by Sonja Bair
Three of the four band members made a beeline to the bar, but the singer-guitar player weaved his way around the tables and waved at Joanne. She stood up and hugged him.
“Perfection, like usual. I wish I could come to more of these concerts,” she said with a wistful smile.
“Glad your schedule let you come today. We were on fire,” her brother said, ruffling her hair.
Joanne turned to me and introduced us, including the fact that I played the cello.
Bill and I shook hands. “Cello, you say,” he said. “What type of music do you play?”
“Actually, very similar to the genre you are playing. And then a mix of anything else that strikes my fancy.”
“Are you any good?” he asked.
Joanne gave Bill a horrified look and told him to be polite, but I wasn’t insulted. I admired someone who didn’t waste time. “Yo-Yo Ma isn’t asking to do duets, but I have played with several semi-professional bands around the Chicago area.”
“Cool.” Bill stroked his auburn-colored beard and glanced down at me with a look of speculation. “Well, we’re a fairly fluid group and are always looking for more instruments to change up our sound. Would you be interested in coming to a rehearsal and seeing if it’s a good fit?”
“I would absolutely love to,” I said in all honesty. “But I teach full time and can’t dedicate much time.”
Bill nodded. “Well, let’s see if it’s a good fit first, but all of us have outside jobs, too. We’re a small town act and actually want to stay that way, truth be told.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a rumpled business card—a glance at it told me his daytime job was an architect for a local firm. I took the card and transferred it to my back pocket. Bill excused himself and joined his band members at the bar. Also at the bar were Amy and Alrik. Alrik’s arm propped up his head and he had a faraway look in his eye. A smile spread across my face and I snickered quietly—it was so easy and fun to pick on someone who took himself so seriously.
Joanne and I sat back down and started talking about nothing in particular, waiting for the second act to start. Something made me turn and look at the door. That something was David, who was already deep in conversation with Philip and Pedro. They headed for the bar—which just happened to be where Alrik and Amy were. I swallowed hard. David and Alrik had not been in the same room since my hospital stay since my hospital stay, and I’m told that time was a disaster. I’m glad I was too out of it to remember most of it, and that relief grew when my mother filled me in on the details
Since the hospital, David and Alrik were taking great care to avoid each other. It would have been an amusing situation except for the violence that seemed to lurk beneath the surface.
I took a long drink of my beer and waited for the two parties to spot each other. Joanne noticed my attention had focused away from her, and she followed my gaze to the bar. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see her face go still, then contemplative, and then come to a conclusion. I turned my head and looked at her, wondering what that conclusion could be.
“So I remember seeing both the tall, dark-haired gentleman and the blond gentleman at the hospital visiting you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I seem to recall a bad vibe between the two of them.”
I didn’t say anything, only nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the inevitable meeting, unsure if I should step in or not. Before I made a decision, David noticed Alrik. He stiffened, his eyes resting on Amy for a second before scanning the rest of the room and coming to rest on me. He bumped Pedro’s arm, and the other man made eye contact with me briefly. It didn’t last, as Pedro made his own scan of the room, stopping with Alrik and going on alert. Alrik’s presence put Pedro on alert. For his part, Philip was a little slower to pick up on the drama. By the time he spotted Alrik, my de fact bodyguard had turned to face the werewolves.
Joanne had seen all the interaction and picked up on the underlying tension. “I have a bad feeling about this, Freya. Should I be concerned?” she asked in a voice laced with an authority picked up from her years on the police force.
“I certainly hope not,” I replied.
By this time, David had made it to our table, grabbed an extra chair from a neighboring table, and moved it beside me, still facing Alrik. He put an arm around the back of my chair and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Irritation spiked though me and I jerked away from him.
“Stop it. I’m serious,” I said.
It was probably the wrong move on my part because as soon as I jerked away from David, Alrik was out of his seat and pushing his way through the crowd. I stood up so fast, the chair flipped backward. I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. My actions were making the situation worse.
I turned to David. “I came here to relax and listen to some good music. Neither you nor Alrik are going to ruin it. Go away.”
David looked hurt. Good. He deserved it. I was still frustrated about Jia escaping and wasn’t in the mood to deal with the testosterone challenge he was trying to start.
Alrik appeared at the table. I braced myself for the worst, but surprisingly, he appeared calm.
“Freya, would you mind giving David and me a moment to talk?” he asked.
Looking suspiciously between the two men, I didn’t say anything. Joanne cleared her throat, then grabbed her beer and stood up. “You two can have this table. I’m going to say hi to the other band members. Freya, I’ll see you later,” she said with nod in my direction.
Alrik turned to me. “Freya, David and I are just going to talk.”
I looked at David to confirm what Alrik was saying. He shrugged and motioned Alrik to Joanne’s now-empty seat.
“Okay. Well. Have fun. I’ll be over with Amy.” As I walked away, I smiled. Perhaps they could work out some sort of truce.
Amy, ever the social butterfly, was now talking with a middle-aged woman at the bar. I knew that Amy wouldn’t be upset if I joined the conversation—she was a classic connector between people—but I wasn’t in the mood. I checked my watch. It was still a few minutes before the band was scheduled to start again. I decided to get a breath of fresh air while waiting for the music.
Chapter 27
Pushing open the door to the bar, I stepped into the night air. Like usual, San Luis was pulsing with activity. The university was located on the outskirts of town, but busses ran back and forth between campus and town frequently, delivering young people heading to a downtown party spot. All around me, people were enjoying the night out, and I realized I was, too. It was good to get out. Without much thought, I wandered down sidewalk, soaking in the energy of the city. I passed by clothing boutiques, restaurants, and tourist shops. San Luis really was a small town, its personality much bigger than its actual footprint, and I was soon next to a massive ficus trees at the end of the street.
I paused under the branches of the ficus, which swooped out in all directions. I paused and took a deep breath. The air had a bite to it. Much like the searing hot air at the ranch caused my still-healing air passages to sting and ache, so did the cold air. I couldn’t imagine the pain and recovery a person with normal healing would experience after a chlorine exposure. But through the pain, something caught my attention. There was something else in the air.
I took another cautious, deep breath through my nose. There was the scent of the Sun/Moon Tribe—faint, but clearly present. Remembering my mistake last time, I glanced up into the branches of the tree, but Jia wasn’t channeling her inner squirrel at the moment. After peering around the street to assure myself there were no spectators, I jumped and grabbed the lowest branch, pulling myself up onto my belly and then swinging my legs over the branch. Once I had caught my balance and was able to stand, it was easier to scale the tree. With each limb climbed, I scanned for any clue of Jia, but nothing caught my attention. After I was a good distance in the air and with no idea of why Jia would have scaled this particular tree, I looked around. The angle of this branch made it hard to see down San Luis’ main
street. But when I turned the other direction, I had a clear view of a hotel—the hotel where Wen and Meng were staying. Jia had to be watching them. For what purpose? I didn’t know, but regardless, they needed to be told. I looked down at the distant sidewalk and sighed. It would be so much easier and faster to fly, but I couldn’t risk it with all these people around.
One scraped knuckle and a banged shin later, I was on terra firma. I had never learned to climb trees as a kid since I had never needed to climb trees. Regardless, I was down, so I jogged over to the hotel, smoothing down my hair and picking the leaves off my clothes. I nodded briskly at the front desk attendant and walked down the hallway to Wen and Meng’s suite. No one answered my knock, so I tried again, louder and longer this time. Wen and Meng were early risers, so I assumed they went to bed early. I felt bad about waking them, but my discovery couldn’t wait.
When they still didn’t answer, the skin on the back of my neck started to tingle. Something didn’t seem right. Maybe Wen and Meng were out on the town, but it didn’t seem likely. I paused, uncertain what I should do next. I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling; I needed to get inside. I hoped that all I would discover was a very soundly sleeping Chinese couple.
So at this point in a Hollywood adventure, the woman would pull a bobby pin out of her hair and swiftly pick the lock. I had neither a bobby pin nor the skills to do such a task. So I did the next best thing: I went to the front desk and asked if I could have a key to their room. Of course it was a little more complicated than that. No receptionist worth their salt would give some random person a room key.
“Hello, my name’s Sue,” I said. “I need a key for room fourteen. Meng Yu left a note saying they were expecting me.”
The desk clerk looked around for a note but found none.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see anything here,” he said.
I sighed. Some people are more immune to the influence then others. I felt sorry about the headache I was about to give him, but thus was life.
“No, they definitely left a note. It’s around here somewhere,” I said.
He grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, but he did take another look around the desk, this time putting more effort into the search. He must have been one of the resistive types. I took pity on him and grabbed the top sheet of the notepad sitting on top of the desk.
“Here it is!” I said in a cheerful voice. “This is the note that Meng left.”
The clerk looked at the blank piece of paper in confusion. He squinted at it and put his hand to the back of his neck again. He looked up, staring into space, and shook his head. I figured his headache had increased; mine sure had.
Like a stretched rubber band finally snapping, he jerked his head forward and gave a surprised laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember that! And the note was right in front of me, too.”
I smiled benevolently. “No worries. Could I have the key?”
He immediately reached into a drawer and pulled out a plastic card. I grabbed it and hurried away. The less he remembered about me, the better.
I knocked one last time before opening the door with the card, but there still was no answer. I cracked the door and softly called out Meng and Wen’s names. Silence. I flipped on the light. The front living room of their suite was empty. The pungent smells of ginger and Szechuan pepper from the Yus’ cooking filled the air.
Without pausing to examine the rest of the sitting room, I knocked on the bedroom door. There was no reply, so I cautiously opened it and turned on the light. The bed was neatly made and everything looked like it was in order. Maybe the Yus were exploring San Luis after all, and if so, good for them.
I turned in a circle, looking for anything out of place. The window was wide open and the curtain on the right side of the window was hanging half off its rod. Meng and Wen didn’t seem to be the curtain-ripping types.
Stepping closer, I thumbed the heavy burgundy curtain. If someone was crawling out the window, they might grab the curtain for support. I mimicked the move, pretending to grab the curtain as I crawled up onto the windowsill and looked outside. It seemed very possible that this motion caused the rip. I went back to looking at the view. The ground outside was about five feet down, not a small step, but not impossible, either. I shifted so my legs hung out and then pushed off the sill, landing hard on my feet, jarring my knees and falling on my hands. I really am no good at dealing with heights like a normal person. Brushing off my hands, I stood and peered up and down the service drive. No one was around and unfortunately, there was no note saying, “This way to solve the mystery,” so I stopped and pondered the situation.
It appeared that Meng and Wen had crawled out the window. I assumed that this action was not usual for them. So why would they go out a window? If they couldn’t go out the door. Why wouldn’t they go out the door? Probably because they didn’t want to be seen. So maybe someone was probably at the door, trying to get in. But wouldn’t they call for help before doing something as drastic as crawling out the window? They had a cell phone and the hotel phone. Jumping out a window seemed like a last resort. Okay, if they didn’t jump out the window because someone was at the door, why would they jump? Because someone was already in the room. And the only someone that I could think of who would cause so much trouble was Jia. I could see Meng and Wen opening the door for her, glad that she had come to her senses and returned to her elders. But I bet she didn’t come begging for help; she seemed too far gone to the dark side for a joyful reunion. So she threatened them, but there was no sign of a struggle in the hotel suite. Did they jump out the window trying to get away from her, or did they jump because she made them? It really didn’t matter. They were in a bad spot and needed help. I looked around. Where would they go if they were in trouble? Or where would Jia make them go? The hotel took up most of the block and fronted the town’s main drag. That street was well lit and populated. The Yus would probably head that way for help. I fervently hoped that was the case and if it was, then they were probably safe. For the time being, however, I had to operate under the presumption that Jia had them and they were in danger. I could live with the mistake of being overly suspicious.
I turned away from the bright lights of Higuera Street and toward the back of the hotel. In an effort to be energy- and light-conscious, the city of San Luis Obispo had removed all non-critical street lamps. The darkness was great for stargazing, but it also meant that any time you went off the main drag, it became pitch black in a few steps. I reached to my back pocket for my cell phone, meaning to use the flashlight app, but I realized I had accidentally left my purse back at the table with the guys. I hoped Alrik and David wouldn’t leave it behind. Then that it occurred to me that I should probably tell them what was going on. Oops. Maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing to do by myself. I turned away and took a step toward the lights, but a terrified woman’s scream split the still night air. The scream broke off, just as quick as it had started. My heart jumped into my throat and panic-stricken, I searched for help. No one was around. I ran toward the hotel, but another scream, this one of pain, stopped me dead in my tracks. Someone needed help right now. I yelled as loud as I could for help, hoping someone, anyone, would hear, and ran toward the scream
The scream sounded like it came from an alley off the back side of the hotel. I sprinted as fast as I could, but time seemed to move in slow motion. At first glance, the alley seemed empty, but on second glance, I noticed a large storage shed positioned perfectly for blocking the view of one of the back corners. My breath was coming fast, both from the short sprint and nerves. I took a few seconds to quiet my breathing and move cautiously toward the dumpster. Any identifying scent of a supernatural was blocked by the overly ripe restaurant food lying in the trash cans dotted along the alley. I scanned the area for anything that could be used as a weapon. There was half of an abandoned bike locked to a pipe—that wouldn’t help. There was a plastic trash can with a lid. I grabbed at the lid handle, figuring I could use it as
a shield if nothing else. It was stuck on its can and although I tried to be stealthy taking it off, there was a popping noise as it jerked off. I rolled my eyes at my distinct lack of ninja skills.
“Freya? Is that you, Freya?” a voice behind the shed called.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to answer Jia, so I took my plastic trash can lid and shuffled closer to the storage shed.
“Stay away, she…” Meng called out, but whatever he wanted to warn me about got cut off with a cry of pain—a cry that seemed to come from Wen. I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. The small outburst confirmed my suspicion that Jia had Meng and Wen cornered in the back alley.
Jia called again. “I know it is you, Freya. Qiang and I used to have a connection. Qiang died, but you and I are connected now.” She laughed, an unnaturally high pitch in the quiet of the alley. “So I think it is proper that you are here for the final journey.”
I edged up against the shed. There was silence for a moment, and then Jia spoke quietly, as if she knew I was standing close to her. “Right now, I have a very sharp knife against Wen’s neck. She’s already bleeding. I could make her bleed more, or you could show yourself.”
My shoulders slumped. My half-baked plan of surprising her, wrestling her to the ground, and saving the day evaporated.
“Don’t wait too long, Freya,” Jia said.
I stepped around the corner. She did indeed hold a long, nasty-looking chef’s knife against Wen’s throat. The older lady was white as a sheet and the fresh-looking blood stains down the front of her shirt were being fed by a small trickle of blood flowing down her neck. I turned to look at Meng. He was seated cross-legged on the ground in front of Jia. There was a gash across his check and a cut on his upper arm that looked nasty. His hands were behind his back, and by the unnatural position of his shoulders, I would guess they were tied together somehow.