by Tricia Owens
Chapter 14
I’d never visited the ocean. As I tumbled end over end within the water that churned inside the elevator car, I had trouble understanding why anyone would want to. Thankfully, the salt that I’d tasted as the water first rushed inside didn’t burn my eyes like I expected it to. Though the interior of the elevator was murky, outside where the lobby should have been I thought I saw a light source. As soon as I managed to orient myself I grabbed the back of Elliott’s uniform and tugged him with me out of the elevator.
As we swam, my heart thundered and my mind raced. Having no idea what was going on, I didn’t know how to stop it. And how long would the air in my lungs last? Or in Elliott’s?
As we drew nearer to what I recognized as the Sinistera’s front door, my blurred vision picked up movement in the water around us. I pulled up suddenly as a dark figure squirted past me, sparking light. A ten foot long eel with a body as thick as my thigh swam a loose circle around Elliott and me. Every so often a tendril of glowing light snaked along its length. It was electrified.
One of Calia’s? Despite the electric connection, I doubted it. She simply didn’t possess the power to create a living animal. Which led me to question who did. Treading water, my lungs beginning to grow warm, I turned a circle, not only tracking the giant eel but searching the scene. The furniture in the lobby was transformed. The elegant Art Deco chairs and loveseats were now coral and barnacle crusted mounds forming a stalactite-like landscape. Colorful anemone and starfish were scattered around and atop the rocky mounds. The carpet had been replaced with sand that rippled as though creatures hid beneath its topmost layer. When I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling, the air pocket I’d hoped to see was terribly absent. The water filled the lobby to maximum capacity.
The front desk had been replaced by a small fishing boat wreck. Where was Sheridan? Had she been removed or killed to allow this to take place? Something similar had occurred during my interview, when I’d been left alone to fend off the black, tentacled creature.
I understood why Sheridan had participated in that, likely at the request of Tower. But the difference here was that I already had the job. There was no further need for testing. I couldn’t believe that she would be involved in whatever this was since it threatened Elliott’s life, too. The conclusion that I came to was that Sheridan wasn’t present now because this was a fantasy. A potentially deadly one.
Elliott was beginning to show signs of distress. Disregarding the danger of the electric eel, he lurched forward, swimming as fast as he could toward the front door. If he didn’t reach it before his lungs gave way would he drown?
He wouldn’t drown, but I was sure that he would die.
I swam to the shipwreck and placed my hand on its wooden hull. My plan was crazy and might get Elliott and I killed, but I suspected the key to surviving this wasn’t reaching the front door. That was a false oasis that guaranteed death. So instead of meddling something to help him and I reach that door faster, I meddled a gigantic wooden propeller.
It was mounted parallel to the floor on a shaft that was connected to a crank. When I turned the crank, I had to duck as the propeller’s fifteen foot long blades began to turn. The blades were wide and fat to ensure the most surface area, so the first rotation created a current powerful enough to thrust Elliott sideways through the water and send the electric eel spinning off to the opposite wall of the lobby. Sand flared up, turning the water opaque.
I cranked faster. The blades pushed harder through the water, which in turn battered against anything in the lobby that wasn’t heavy enough to withstand the push. Elliott was now pinned to one wall, his face red.
He would attempt to take a breath any second now and drown. I wasn’t far behind.
I can’t hold out much longer...
Another desperate crank of the propeller and the powerful rush of water forced a dark form to tumble out from behind a cluster of coral. I immediately grabbed my gun and fired at it. The bullet pierced the water, unaffected by the current. When it reached its target, it did its job. The metal net snapped tight around the black-haired mermaid. The net’s momentum, coupled with the current, sent her crashing into the wall near the bar.
My lungs couldn’t take it anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold on for a few more seconds. The pain was agonizing. I couldn’t stand it.
My body rebelled and my mouth surged open to seize a breath—
I loudly sucked in a heaving gulp of air. My eyes shot open. The lobby was back to normal. My hands, which had been holding the crank handle, were now curled around nothing but air. Still dizzy, I looked quickly to the wall where Elliott had been pinned. He lay on the floor on his back, gasping for breath.
“How did you know?” asked a voice I’d heard only once before when it had spoken in hushed tones outside my room here in the hotel.
Willing my racing heart to calm down, I cautiously approached the black-haired young woman lying sprawled in front of the bar. My bullet net kept her arms pinned by her sides, but her danger wasn’t in what she could do, but in what she could think.
“My grandmother is a Telepathic Projectionist, too,” I told her. “She taught me that any projection holds the maker somewhere within it. To stop the projection, you stop the maker.”
She smiled slightly. “I thought as a mermaid I’d be well hidden.” She rolled her head against the wall and regarded me from beneath amazingly thick, long lashes. “I’m Drishna. I work in the kitchen. I’m the room service chef. Nothing personal, all this. I just saw that a new job had opened for all comers, so I wanted to eliminate the competition.”
“Nothing personal?” I eyed her skeptically. While stunning with her exotic looks and darker skin, I wasn’t fooled that Drishna was anything but another killer. That was all whom Tower seemed to employ. “What if Elliott and I had drowned in your projection?”
She tried to shrug within the net but found the move difficult. “We’re all going to die eventually. Like I said, it wasn’t aimed at you personally. Anyone who’d come down at this time would have been caught in it. And the only people who would have come down right now are Specials who’d received messages.”
I followed the direction of her gaze to the front desk. Nothing stood out except for the mail slots behind the desk. Familiar manila envelopes now sat in five of the slots.
“Let me guess,” I said, turning back to Drishna. “A new job to hunt down the leaper.”
She glanced at the elevators. “The others will be coming down any second. I’ll let you go if you let me set up my projection again. Less competition for us, right?”
“I’m not letting you murder them for a job that’s supposed to be mine,” I told her.
She frowned and tried to sit up higher. “But that’s stupid. Let me reduce the odds. I’ll get rid of Calia and Taurus. Instead of six Specials there will be only us competing, and Sheridan never leaves the hotel so she doesn’t count. That leaves three. One out of three are great odds.”
I shook my head. “Like I said, it’s my job. So the odds are terrible for everyone except me.”
I holstered my weapon and meddled a blindfold from a bandana I’d tied around my ankle as a ‘just in case.’ I slipped it on over Drishna’s eyes despite her protests and walked away from her, vibrating with anger at what she’d nearly done to Elliott and me and what she’d casually intended to do to the remaining Specials.
“Hey, no fair! Release me!” Drishna yelled after me. “I let you out of my projection.”
“I’m not thanking you for not killing us,” I retorted. Elliott had risen to his feet and though pale-faced, managed a shaky smile for me. “Let’s get out of here,” I said to him. He nodded emphatically.
Yet again, it was like early release from jail to step outside of the Sinistera, even into the darkness of night.
“I nearly drowned,” Elliott said, palming his face with both hands.
“Not exactly, but your mind would have been convinced of it a
nd caused you to have a fatal heart attack.” The cool that I’d showed in front of Drishna drained away now that I was out of the TP’s presence. I watched my fingers tremble. “The only reason I didn’t panic back there was because I’ve been in a lot of projections created by my grandmother. They’re potent when they’re full immersion like that, and Drishna’s good. Scary good.”
“I thought she was a friend,” Elliott said faintly. He looked ill as he stared sightlessly into the street. “But I keep forgetting that there are a lot of bad people inside the Sinistera.”
“Money makes people do crazy things.” It applied to myself. It wasn’t so long ago that I’d seriously considered tricking the police into killing me so my grandmother would receive my life insurance payout.
“It’s not even about that for some of them.” Elliott tipped back his head and breathed deeply. “For some, Arrow, it’s the competition that excites them. And for others—I hate to say it, but they enjoy killing.”
I laughed without mirth. “I believe you.”
After a few more moments, I looked him over. “You okay to keep going? You don’t have to come along.” Something occurred to me. “If you were hoping we would split the bounty, I’m sorry, but I need all of it, Elliott. For my grandmother.”
He spun on me, rare anger on his face. “I’m not like that. I want to help you because I believe you’re actually doing this for the right reasons. I mean, not this job exactly, but to force the government to be held accountable. I want that, too. I don’t care about the money.”
“I’m sorry I suggested that it was.” I did feel bad. Almost sleazy. Encounters with people like Calia and Drishna were turning me cynical. “You’re right to believe in me, Elliott. That’s my goal. Once my grandmother is taken care of, I’m devoting my life to learning the truth.”
“Okay.” He nodded sharply, decisively. “So let’s go.” He didn’t move, though. “So, um, where are we going?”
I pointed across the street. “To grab a drink.”
~~~~~
Elliott was secretly relieved that the bar, Ozium, was packed with people. The heat of bodies, the sound of their conversation and laughter—all of it screamed ‘life!’ to him. He badly needed the reassurance that he hadn’t drowned in the lobby of the Sinistera. It was the closest he had come so far to dying, but he worried that it was only the first of his narrow brushes with death now that Arrow had joined the staff. Not that he blamed her, but he was beginning to believe she was a catalyst of some kind.
Another reason he was shaken up was because it was Drishna who had nearly killed him. She was someone he had thought was on his side because she didn’t like Calia, either. The whole enemy of my enemy thing. More importantly, he’d shared a secret with Drishna and to his knowledge she hadn’t told anyone about it. In his book that made them friends. Clearly, he’d been mistaken and it hurt. When it came down to it, all of the Specials were out for themselves, some all-too-willing to kill off anyone who got in their way.
He shivered in the warmth but gradually calmed down as he followed Arrow who skillfully weaved through the crowd to the U-shaped bar in the center of the narrow room. Beneath the glow of the Edison lamps the highlights in her hair shone like threads of gold and more than one bar patron noted her passage. Arrow, however, had no interest in anyone. She was on a mission, and her determination helped Elliott find his footing.
He checked the place out and decided he liked it. It was interesting how many employees from the Sinistera were here. Some were from day shift and two were night shift workers who had the day off. A couple of them acknowledged him but most acted as though they didn’t see him even though he knew they must have. He was in his work uniform, not to mention each time the front door of the bar opened everyone inside turned to check out the new meat.
Were they pretending not to know him because they were up to no good? Or was he unfairly painting everyone with the same brush as Calia and now Drishna?
“Elliott.”
Arrow had squeezed out space for two at the bar. He sidled up beside her and leaned his elbows on the polished wood.
“This place is packed,” he said. He felt self-conscious as many of those at the bar looked at his uniform with raised eyebrows. “I’m not much of a bar person,” he mumbled.
“I’m not either but this place is good,” Arrow said, distracted. She kept staring at the back of the bartender, a tall blond man who was pouring shots for a group of women on the other end of the bar. “I mostly come here because of my friend. Not to pick up anyone. Here he comes.”
The blond bartender headed their way, a pleased grin on his face. He was extremely good-looking and Elliott took his time checking him out even though he wasn’t Elliott’s type.
“Hey, you,” the man greeted as he came up to the other side of the bar. He looked delighted to see Arrow and she had a glow on her cheeks that Elliott hadn’t seen before. Were they together?
“I’m in early tonight,” Arrow said to him. “Couldn’t stay away.”
Definitely flirting, Elliott thought. It was cute, because so far he’d only seen Arrow being sort of tough. Then again, there weren’t many opportunities for playing around in the Sinistera. Elliott knew that better than anyone.
“Hope you’re staying all night.” The bartender’s bright blue eyes slid to Elliott, who stood a little straighter, unable to help himself. “You brought a friend. I’m guessing you’re the underling.”
Arrow laughed and blushed. “Yeah, sorry, Elliott, I made a joke about being a boss of someone for the first time ever. No offense.”
“None taken.” Elliott held out his hand. “Elliott.”
“Jasper.” His hand was large and firm. “And believe Arrow. She told me she’s happy to be working with someone she likes.”
It was Elliott’s turn to color, but for a good reason. Taking this security job rather than working as an Animalia Medium had been slightly demoralizing, but he’d tried to make the most of the situation. Arrow’s words made him think he might find his job rewarding, after all.
Arrow leaned across the bar. “Jasper, is Rogette here?”
Jasper shook his head and wiped his hands on a bar towel. “She had that coven meeting, remember? Left about an hour ago. They should be in the thick of it right now. Whatever that means.”
His laugh was strained, piquing Elliott’s curiosity.
“Did you get my message?” Arrow asked him.
Jasper’s expression tightened. He twisted the towel. “Yeah, I didn’t really understand it, though. Why would she be in danger? You said she should stay indoors but that’s pretty vague. And not practical.”
Arrow took a quick look around. “It’s because she’s a witch, Jasper. You remember how we talked about picking up extra work at the Sinistera? Well, I did. And my job is hunting down this thing that’s going after witches. I think it was here a couple of nights ago. I think it was looking for Rogette.”
“Because she’s a witch,” he murmured unhappily.
Elliott assumed Rogette was someone close to Jasper, but his reaction to learning that she was in danger seemed all wrong to Elliott. Where was the concern? The panic? It certainly wasn’t the reaction Elliott would have if—
No, don’t even imagine it happening. Or that the Count would care if you were upset. Because he won’t care. You know he won’t. He’s a monster.
Depressed, Elliott forced thoughts of the vampire from his mind.
“Rogette can take care of herself,” Jasper was saying. His smile was what Elliott would describe as sickly. It confused him. “Trust me on that. She’s something else.”
“So is this killer,” Arrow shot back. “How about you tell me where this coven is meeting and I’ll go save your fiancée since you don’t seem to care.”
Elliott looked away as Jasper blinked, clearly shocked by her tone. Jasper apparently didn’t know how Arrow felt about him, or else he tried to deny it.
Elliott sympathized with Arrow all too wel
l and he wished he didn’t. Unrequited attraction was the worst. He turned his back on them, figuring Arrow would get the information she wanted without his help.
Looking out over the crowd of Ozium, he allowed his mind to wander to The Architect. The dark-haired man was definitely Elliott’s type, but he was far too strange for his comfort. And angry. Angry people made him nervous. So that was out, not that dating The Architect had ever actually been on the table. Elliott smiled to himself. How funny would that be if he came in one day and told Calia that they were dating?
His smile fell away. There was nothing very funny about what The Architect wanted them to do. All the odd jobs somehow fit into a master plan to place the Sinistera under The Architect’s control. And after that…that was the question, wasn’t it? What was going to happen then? Would a new war begin? Did Elliott want that? Was he strong enough to fight?
He wished he could say with confidence that he was.
A hand touched his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” Arrow murmured into his ear.
When Elliott turned to say goodbye to her friend Jasper, the bartender was at the back near the bottle display, his brow furrowed and eyes lost in thought.
“Is everything alright?” Elliott asked once they were on the sidewalk again. The Sinistera loomed over them with its multitude of bleeding red eyes.
“We’re heading over to the coven meeting,” Arrow said instead of answering. “You alright with riding on the back of my scooter? We’ll look ridiculous but at least we won’t have to walk.”
“Sure, that’s fine.” They jogged back across the street to where her scooter was parked. It would be a tight fit, but Elliott didn’t care about that. “Arrow, everything’s okay with your friend?” he persisted.
She stared at the ground. “Something’s going on with him. He’s hiding something from me and he’s never done that before. I don’t like it. It worries me about what it could be.” She looked up, her blue eyes soft. “And yes, I’ll say it since it’s probably obvious: I’m jealous. I’m jealous of his fiancée. I’m jealous that she gets to make him happy instead of me. But that’s my problem, not his. I’ll never make it his.”