Sweet Oblivion (Shady Arcade Book 2)

by Sharon Stevenson

  Audrey’s skin started to crawl. “I’d ask how you were doing, but he told me you killed someone.”

  He snorted. “Did he now? That little tattletale. We’re vampires, Audrey. It’s kind of what we do.”

  “No, it’s not. There’s no need to kill someone,” she said, wishing it didn’t sound so hypocritical. Just seconds before she’d been steeling herself to murder everyone in the house.

  “Tell that to your boss,” he said, smirking. There he went, reading her mind.

  “What’s really going on here, Mitch? Why are you here?”

  “I’m here because there’s something you lied to one of our vampires about, sis.” His eyes flashed.

  She held her breath. There was no way he could know that.

  “You used compulsion on him the night we were turned. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was. Because you’ve always been special,” he spat the last word out like it tasted bad in his mouth. “You told him Zack was dead. He left him behind because of that. It was a lie, a desperate little...”

  She slapped him hard. “Get to the goddamned point, asshole.”

  He smirked as he looked her over. “The point is, Midnight know he didn’t die that night. They’ve known for a long time. And they have a plan.”

  He grabbed her by the wrist. She concentrated on seeing inside his head. He was partly telling the truth. They knew, and they’d had it re-confirmed recently, but he didn’t know what the plan was. He’d only been sent to take her. She sensed he was hiding something else, something more personal, but she really didn’t want to have it confirmed that he’d enjoyed killing that girl so she didn’t push harder to find out what it was.

  “You know what happens if they get him,” she said, wishing he cared.

  He shrugged. “It’s been fun while it lasted. It still can be, for me.”

  She pulled her hand back and he smiled at her.

  “Sleep, sister. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Her legs trembled as she felt his will get to work on her. The powerful sway of his compulsion was too much to break. Her head swam as she looked at him, trying vainly to stay conscious. He grabbed her as she faltered on her feet. She was out of it within seconds, panic only beginning to register as she fell asleep in his arms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chloe went through her list of things as if she wasn’t the one doing them. She felt oddly disconnected from her actions, and every call she made seemed to make the idea of leaving town sound more and more ridiculous. She kept swinging back and forth over whether it was really for the best, or not. Somewhere deep down, she knew she’d have to accept it, but right now she couldn’t. There had to be another way. At least, she wished there was, but she knew there wasn’t.

  Her head just point blank refused to wrap itself around what was happening. She probably wouldn’t even believe it when she was standing in her new place. It was moving too fast to feel real. It would take time for her head to get there. Everything only took time. Supposedly.

  The sound of the doorbell ringing snapped her back to reality. She got up, putting her phone down and brushing the crumbs off her skirt. She’d managed to snack her way through half a packet of Digestives while she worked through her list, her tea long gone cold.

  She opened the door. Amira stood on her doorstep, one hand around her stomach, the other fussing with her hair. “Can we talk?”

  Chloe nodded, opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come in.”

  Amira walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She glanced around, her dark eyes widening. “What’s going on?”

  Chloe took in the boxes she’d packed up in a daze before she’d gotten around to her phone calls.

  “I’m moving,” she said, with a soft sigh.

  Amira frowned at her. “First you hide all that supernatural stuff from me, and now...” She shook her head. “I thought we were friends.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “This wasn’t my choice. I don’t want to leave.”

  “You’re being forced to?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “But it’s because of what happened, right? All that insane shit that happened at Zack’s flat,” she said, annoyance beginning to bleed into her tone.

  Chloe nodded. She was too numb to do much else. The Necromancer’s Council had stirred her anger with their decision, and now that it was sinking in, the fight was draining from her. Larry’s unbridled enthusiasm for the new start had helped her begin to accept the inevitable. If only accepting it didn’t mean letting go of everything she’d used to define her life.

  Amira folded her arms, her gaze drifting to the list on Chloe’s coffee table. Her eyes narrowed and then widened. Chloe could guess what she’d just seen written down. It was funny, Larry had never gotten around to thinking about Amira when she’d taken him his blood, which was one thing Chloe had been thankful for. She’d even wondered if he was letting her go. If he was, she’d supposed it was for the best, under the circumstances. Apparently, Amira, despite her refusal to speak to him since she found out what he was, was still interested.

  “What about Larry?” She sounded like she’d just had the wind knocked from her.

  “He has to leave with me.”

  Amira growled. “I can’t believe this. I find out all this crazy stuff and I don’t get allowed the time to process it. You guys are just leaving? Where are you even going?”

  “We’ll find out tomorrow. It’s when we leave.”

  “Tomorrow!” Amira’s voice rose. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Tell me about it,” Chloe said, trying to smile. It was a ludicrous situation, but she wasn’t quite ready to find the humour in it. Maybe someday. Right now, she couldn’t see it.

  “I have so many questions.” Amira sat down. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  Chloe moved towards the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zack started checking through his things as he got ready to make his jailbreak later that night. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a second pair of sunglasses to replace the ones Turner had confiscated from him so he’d just have to do without. He supposed they wouldn’t be practical anyway, given the time of night he was leaving. He’d started to wonder something as he looked through the clothes in his wardrobe. Taking off his gloves, he ran his naked fingers over the fabrics. Disappointment filled him as he dropped his hand, and not just from the production-line misery embedded in them. It would probably be strange to get a vision from his clothes, anyway. It wasn’t as if he’d still have the items he’d been wearing that night. They would have been beyond salvaging after that attack. He put his glove back on.

  He’d already searched the flat, bit by bit, checking around whenever Turner left him alone to go to the bathroom. Considering he didn’t trust Kenny, he desperately needed to find some sort of weapon to take with him. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything much he could find on that front. He didn’t own any big knives, only standard cutlery. He doubted he could get away with breaking one of his chairs while the body guard from hell was around watching his every move. Turner didn’t seem to have anything on him, but he supposed the guy didn’t need anything since he was built like a tank. The golf umbrella by the door was about the only thing he could think of that might be any good. He left it where it was. He could grab it on the way out the door later.

  One other thing was bothering him and had been for a while now. Audrey hadn’t spoken to him since that last night he’d almost been killed for the second time. It hadn’t really been her, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from wondering why she’d gone away. He wondered if it was because he knew he’d imagined it, or if it was because he didn’t think he needed it anymore, since he’d found out she existed. Either way, it was worrying him more every day that went by that he didn’t hear from her. He tried to shrug it off. She was real, but that didn’t mean his weird chats inside his own head with her had been. She�
��d likely disappeared now that someone had confirmed her existence.

  Chloe. She’d known who Audrey was. Probably everyone in town knew, everyone but him. He was a sad case, a weirdo, a freak. But at least he was one step closer to the answers he needed.

  ***

  It was just after ten when his minder was sleeping soundly enough on his couch to snore. The sleeping tablets seemed to have taken effect. Zack left quietly, taking the umbrella and holding his breath when the stand rattled. Turner’s snoring went on. He left the flat and picked up his pace. He had less than two hours to try to find an answer on his own before he was left with no other option but to blindly follow a man he wouldn’t trust with a potted plant, never mind his life. The streets were empty, the night was still. The rain had stopped but the paths were still damp.

  Zack walked to the woods, feeling strange about going back to his place without Chloe. He shook the feeling off. He had to stop thinking about her. She was better off without him dragging her in to things that could get dangerous. The ground was less wet under cover of the trees. The mud wasn’t as thick as he’d expected as he trudged through the woods. The house loomed, door open. It took him a few minutes to convince himself to go inside. He had to be crazy. What would happen if he lost it here, with no-one to help him snap out of it?

  He took a deep breath and stepped inside the house. It was dark and he didn’t have a torch to light his way. If he could have figured out how to use the flashlight on his phone he’d have given that a try, but he supposed at least he’d keep his battery if he didn’t. His only really back up plan to having a decent weapon was to use his phone to call the police. It was a pretty pathetic plan, and he doubted it would save his life, but it was all he had. He sighed and walked into the living room, hesitant to take his gloves off. The place had been destroyed. There was probably nothing original lying around that he could touch to gain a vision. He went back into the hallway and looked up the stairs. It was probably worse up there.

  He went up the stairs anyway. Moonlight helped illuminate the landing through a curtain-less window. He saw dark stains in the carpet and decided not to touch them. There had to be something else. He ungloved his left hand. Reaching out, he put his hand on the nearest door handle and braced for a vision. Nothing came. He sighed and dropped his hand. The more he thought about it, the worse his decision seemed. He opened the door with his gloved hand and glanced around. There was nothing too remarkable about the room. He tried the other four doors and didn’t particularly recognise anything. Not that he’d expected to. Surprisingly the rooms hadn’t been trashed like the ground floor had. There were empty cans lying around the floors and a bit of graffiti on the walls, but that was pretty much it.

  He walked into the first room he’d come to and went over to the wardrobe. He pulled the door open. A ball of fur rushed him and he jumped back, letting the cat dart past him. His heart raced from the shock.

  He glanced at the clothing items hanging inside and touched one of the tops with his naked hand. The misery embedded in the fabric was all he found. He closed the door and moved on to the next room.

  He went from room to room, touching things and getting nothing but emotional imprints. He couldn’t figure out which had been his. The final room he checked had an empty wardrobe. It was the only strange thing he’d found so he went back and spent longer touching things. When he still came up empty, he sat down on the edge of the bed, admitting defeat and checking his watch.

  He dropped his glove and sighed, reaching down to pick it up. His naked fingers brushed the carpet and a vision triggered that darkened the room, shutting out the moonlight.

  “Lie down, Zack,” the whisper reached him before he felt the weight of a woman pin him down, pushing him to the mattress.

  Her lips brushed his neck before they moved to his mouth, making him shiver. The cherry taste was what broke the sensory vision this time, an echo of the first kiss he’d experienced at the bench close to the path through the woods.

  He cursed under his breath as he tried touching the bed, the floor, all around. Nothing else triggered. He hadn’t gotten enough to know anything other than he’d been with a woman in the room at one point. He stood up and started rifling around with both gloves on now. He’d found his room at least. Not that it meant much if he couldn’t find something to help his memories come back. There didn’t seem to be anything personal lying around, which seemed odd considering he didn’t have anything personal in his flat either. Was he really so boring that he hadn’t accumulated anything in his whole life? The furniture appeared to be all that had been left in the room. Either he had everything he owned in his flat, in which case he owned nothing of any personal value, or someone had looted the place before it became a vandal’s hangout.

  He glanced at his watch and cursed. It was five minutes to midnight. He hadn’t found any clues. He had to take Kenny’s offer. Groaning, he walked down the stairs and picked the umbrella back up. Even this isn’t mine, he realised as he stepped back out of the house.

  ***

  Kenny was standing there at the same spot he’d walked through to get to his old house. Suspicions flashed through his head again as he stopped walking. The guy glanced at the umbrella and sneered.

  “It’s not raining anymore, Zack.”

  “You never know when it might start back up.”

  Kenny rolled his eyes. “Car’s parked on the other side of the trail.”

  “In Riverton.”

  “Duh,” Kenny said, starting to walk.

  Zack followed, relaxing a little with Kenny turning his back to him.

  “Do you live there now?”

  Kenny snorted. “That’s my business. Not yours.”

  Zack stopped walking. “And my family’s whereabouts are mine. Not yours.”

  Kenny turned to him, rolling his eyes again. “Are you serious right now?”

  “What are you getting out of this?”

  “The pleasure of helping a dear friend.”

  “I think I’m…”

  “Going to go home? I don’t think so, Zack. If you must know, Chloe set me up to this.”

  Zack frowned at him. “Chloe?”

  He nodded slowly. “I overreacted when she killed Bridget.” He motioned to his neck. “I owed her one.”

  Zack remembered the bruises on Chloe’s neck. She’d said they were nothing, but he’d known that wasn’t true. Knowing Kenny had hurt her gave him another reason not to trust the creep. It didn’t take much to put it together; Chloe killed Bridget, Kenny attacked Chloe. His stomach churned at the thought of it. He’d been out of it. Chloe could have been killed. Awash with guilt, he asked himself what he thought he was doing. An answer didn’t reveal itself. He hesitated, seriously considering walking back to his flat. He didn’t believe for one second that Chloe was behind this.

  “Why would she ask you to do this?”

  Kenny sighed. “Do you need me to spell it out to you? God, you’re an idiot. No wonder…”

  “How do you know where they are?” One chance to tell the truth, or I’m walking. Zack gripped the umbrella tighter. It was what Chloe had used to kill Bridget. He was fairly sure it would be harder to use it on Kenny, but he was willing to give it a shot.

  “I know because I know which clan Bridget was working for, okay?”

  And he knew that because he was sleeping with her. Zack joined the dots and they made a sick sort of sense. He nodded, telling himself not to ask anything else. Kenny was getting irritable. He didn’t want to risk saying something that might get him killed sooner that he was already going to be. That dark thought only seemed to make him more determined to go through with this. Kenny was watching him expectantly so he nodded again before he spoke.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  Zack nodded again. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Audrey touched the bars of her new cage as she rose to her feet. Her brother’s compulsion had sent her into a lo
ng, deep sleep she’d had trouble returning from. He’d always been good at talking people into things, making them think it was their idea. Probably why compulsion was extra-powerful on him. Her talents had been more scattered. She was a little bit good at everything. Which might have worked out well, except it didn’t equate to one amazingly strong power. No other vampire had been able to compel her. She put it down to him being a different breed, though she couldn’t be totally sure if it wasn’t just because they were family.

  “Very funny, Mitch,” she called out, glancing across the room and wondering what her fate was going to be here. It didn’t look too good. She was in a hanging cage in a huge room on her own. She wouldn’t be surprised if no-one ever let her out. Vampires could die from blood-thirst, and she barely remembered when she’d had her last taste. She was in serious trouble here. “Where are you?”

  No one answered her. She sighed and rattled the bars. There was a lock on the damned thing. She pulled at the bars but her enhanced strength didn’t do much more than cause the cage to swing. Sitting down, she tried to think.

  Mark couldn’t know about this. There was no way he’d have let Mitch do this. He’d help her. If she could establish a connection. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to get into the meditation-like state she usually slipped in to so she could talk to Zack. She thought about Mark, tried to reach out to him. Nothing. She straightened and tried again, closing her eyes this time. The link just wasn’t there.

  “Shit,” she hissed, wondering if it wasn’t working because Mark was a vampire. She’d been able to talk to Zack because she’d bitten him, she was sure of that. Maybe if he’d been turned by her bite she wouldn’t have been able to.

  Sighing deeply, she tried again, and again. There was nothing else for it. She couldn’t escape on her own. Panic swelled as she considered what might happen if she didn’t get out of the damned cell.