Serpent's Sacrifice (The Vigilantes Book 1)

by Trish Heinrich

  “I could check.”

  “No, I’m gonna go around back, see if one of the maids will let me in. Could you tell her I’m coming? I’m late and I don’t want her to think I’m not coming.”

  “Sure, but what are you meeting her for?”

  There was a pause at the other end.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, I’m here...” Rose’s voice was quiet with hesitation. “It’s a job, kind of a secret one.”

  Alice frowned. What on earth could Mrs. Frost need Rose for?

  “Alright, I’ll give her the message.”

  Rose sighed. “Thanks so much.”

  Really, the last thing Alice wanted to do was talk to Mrs. Frost, but she was terribly curious about what her aunt and the old bat were talking about, and now she was also curious about Mrs. Frost and Rose.

  When she opened the door to the tea room, Aunt Diana was standing up from her chair.

  “This conversation is over,” Aunt Diana said, her face flushed and her tone hard. “My mind is set.”

  “Do you realize what you are doing?” Mrs. Frost’s gravelly voice was cold with fury. “Denying the girl an opportunity like this?”

  “It’s not an opportunity, it’s a burden!”

  “They are often one and the same! And just because you could not shoulder it—”

  Mrs. Frost’s blue eyes suddenly caught sight of Alice and her jaw snapped shut.

  Aunt Diana whipped around, her own eyes wide in surprise. She smoothed the front of her lavender tea dress and took several deep breaths.

  “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Frost.” Aunt Diana gathered up her and Alice’s coat and walked quickly to Alice.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  Alice stared at her. “What was—”

  “Put it out of your mind. Just a small disagreement.”

  She paused, and then looked sternly at Alice.

  “Alice...” Aunt Diana’s tone held a warning. “...put it out of your mind.”

  “Right. Yes. I will. It’s just that Rose Allen has a message for Mrs. Frost.”

  “And what is that?” Mrs. Frost asked, walking toward them.

  “She’s coming from the back entrance and will arrive shortly.”

  Mrs. Frost huffed. “I left a note for her at the front desk.”

  “She was afraid of being turned away and embarrassed.” Alice’s blood rose and before she could stop herself she added, “And what made you think this hotel was the right place to meet with her? Why would you risk exposing her to people like this?”

  “Alice—” Aunt Diana said.

  “It is a good question.” Mrs. Frost stepped closer to Alice, her gaze more appraising than angry. “And very boldly stated. If I cared to explain myself to you, I would.”

  “Mrs. Frost, good day,” Aunt Diana said, practically shoving Alice ahead of her.

  “Did I do something?” Alice asked, once they were in a taxi.

  “No...Not really...it wasn’t really...Alice, I truly do not want to talk about it.”

  “Alright, I’m sorry.”

  Aunt Diana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was what she did when a terrible headache was coming on.

  “I can do inventory at the shop today, if you’d like,” Alice said.

  “Oh god! The inventory — I’d forgotten.”

  “It’s alright, really. Why don’t you go home and have a bath or a nap?”

  Aunt Diana sighed again, a grateful smile on her lips.

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  They were silent the short drive to Atlas Book Company. By the time they arrived, a light drizzle had started, driving any warmth from the autumn air.

  “Please, don’t be too late,” Aunt Diana said.

  “I won’t.”

  “And remember, inventory doesn’t mean reading.”

  Alice laughed. “I haven’t done that since High School.”

  Aunt Diana gave her a tired, knowing smile as the taxi pulled away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The heavy wood door clicked shut behind her, shutting out the honking horns and busy lives of the people outside. From the first moment Alice stepped through the door of Atlas Book, twelve years ago, she’d felt transported to another world. The times her aunt and uncle couldn’t find her in the house or with Rose, they had only to look in the book store. If she wasn’t engrossed in a book, they’d find her curled up on the green and purple rug behind the counter, the scent of books and lemon furniture polish carrying her to dreamland.

  Alice turned on the large yellow lamps hanging overhead and slipped out of the tortuous heels. She padded along on the shining wooden floors, slowly running her fingertips over the spines of the books stacked on the multiple floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. She took her time making her way to the small office in the back of the store, looking over every shelf to make sure nothing was out of place.

  Finding a few children’s books on the Science Fiction shelf, she snatched them up.

  One was achingly familiar.

  Opening the bright green cover with gold-embossed letters, Alice inhaled the smell of the last book her mother had read to her.

  Not for the first time, since graduating College, Alice wondered what her mother would think of her life. Would she approve?

  Her mother and Aunt Diana had parted badly, though Alice could never work out the particulars. And, although her mother had loved reading, she had never really been for women having a life outside of the family — unless it was absolutely necessary, that is.

  “Would you be proud of me?” she whispered.

  A fat tear fell on the cover of the book. Alice shook herself and wiped it away. She’d be here very late if she didn’t get busy.

  Alice had trouble with her mind wandering to her aunt and Mrs. Frost, but still managed to get through most of the inventory. The rest she could do during shop hours tomorrow, since Monday’s weren’t very busy, as a rule.

  As she turned off the lights, the wet plop of rain hitting the display window, punctuated by an occasional splash from a car driving through puddles, made Alice sigh. If she wore those new shoes, her feet would be soaked in minutes, but she hadn’t thought to grab anything else.

  She glanced at the small, dark back room next to the office and wondered if a pair of Aunt Diana’s old galoshes might be in there.

  More of an entryway to the loft, the back room was mostly taken up with a wide staircase, but also had a tiny broom closet, pegs and shelves for coats and shoes. There was a door just past the staircase that led to the alley.

  She grinned when she found an old pair of galoshes, as well as an wrinkled raincoat to protect her own coat, which was too nice to be subjected to the rain. The rain coat was too long, but Alice didn’t mind, at least she’d be dry. Hoping she’d be able to get a taxi quickly, she dashed out the side door to the alley and fumbled with the keys.

  “Damn it!” she said, as they clattered to the wet pavement.

  The smell of garbage was pungent and the rain hammered the fire escape above her in a clatter of sound. It wasn’t until she’d stood up from retrieving her keys, wiping strands of wet hair from her face, that she realized someone else was in the alley with her.

  He was tall and broad-chested, and stepped slowly towards her. The lights from the street behind him kept his face in shadow, but Alice assumed from his posture that this wasn’t going to be a friendly exchange.

  Looking behind her, Alice saw two more men, both tall and lanky, closing in fast.

  The raincoat would hinder her in a fight, so she shed it quickly, wishing the galoshes would come off as easily. The way the men were closing in forced her to have her back toward the building. Not the strongest position, but she would deal with it. She bent her legs, and brought her hands up, at the ready, her body humming with energy.

  “How cute,” the large man said. “You going to put up a fight?”

  She couldn’t help smiling.

  The man lunged for her. Using his
own momentum, Alice forced him into the wall behind her, head first. She kicked him in the face, and then turned to the other two men. They stared at her for a moment, which allowed her to move away from the wall, her back now to the street.

  Dodging a punch, she sent one of her own into the second man’s gut, while his partner circled around behind her and grabbed her from behind, his breath hot on her cheek. Stepping quickly to the side, Alice tossed him over her hip, then punched him in the nose. Blood splattered over her hand, the feel of bone meeting bone vibrating up her arm.

  Ignoring the sticky blood between her fingers, Alice punched him again before his partner knocked her to the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth and spat it out. Jumping up, she raised her fists, ready to defend herself again.

  But no attack came.

  Instead there was a sound, like the whimpering of a child, followed by the scuffling of feet running.

  “You should run, too,” came a voice from the shadows.

  She jumped and looked around.

  “You won’t see me,” said the voice again.

  “Why not?” She began backing toward the door to the shop. If she couldn’t see this person, she couldn’t fight him. And if she couldn’t fight him, Alice needed to have a way to escape.

  “Because, I don’t want you to.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know any other questions?” said a different voice behind her.

  Alice yelped and collided into something solid and looked up to see a very tall man. Light from the street glinted off his blond hair and the silver gray of his shirt — and the gray mask that surrounded his eyes.

  Suddenly, her entire world stood still. Was this...?

  “American Steel?”

  His full lips curved into a sideways grin. “Maybe.”

  “I-I just...I...um...”

  “My friend is right. You should run.”

  “There’s no one left, what’s the rush?”

  “There could be more coming,” said the disembodied voice.

  “Then, I’ll stay and—”

  “No...you won’t,” said Steel.

  The excitement that made her heart pound was lessened considerably by his words and her cheeks flushed with anger.

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

  Steel stared at her, his smile widening. “No one.”

  She held his look a little longer and glanced around the darkness. There was nothing except garbage cans, the sound of cars on the wet streets, and the wet steps of the occasional passer-by.

  Alice was shocked that no one had stopped to see what the commotion was about, but was also grateful.

  Would the vigilantes have shown up if a civilian had tried to come to my aid?

  “It does you no good to stand in the rain,” said the disembodied voice.

  “What about you, Shadow Master?” she asked.

  Steel chuckled. “You did pretty well tonight. But maybe, in the future, try and stay out of trouble?”

  He turned to leave and Alice felt her heart jump. Meeting them was what she’d been dreaming about for the past year. Was she just going to let him walk away?

  “Why would I do that?” she asked, stepping toward him.

  He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

  “I took care of those guys before you arrived. I can handle myself. Just like you.”

  “Trust me, you’re nothing like me,” he said.

  The desire she’d had as a child to be a hero had changed, eventually becoming a nagging disquiet in the back of her mind. Now, looking at someone, who was doing exactly what she’d dreamed of so long ago, was like having a light turn on and that long-buried desire burst from its confines.

  She took a deep breath. “I could do this. What you do, I mean, or something like it. I’m smart, and I—”

  “No.”

  “That’s it? Just ‘no’?”

  “Goodbye.”

  With that, Steel jumped several feet into the air and grabbed a nearby fire escape. In seconds, he was on the roof and gone.

  She stared in shock after him.

  “Am I going crazy?” she looked around. “What?… How?”

  Her mind tried to find an explanation, but there wasn’t one; at least, not one that made any logical or scientific sense.

  Rumors running through the streets about the vigilantes insisted that they had...powers. Alice had always rolled her eyes at such ideas, assuming criminals just didn’t want others to think they were weak for being apprehended so easily.

  But now...?

  Alice shook her head.

  “C’mon now. You’re not a kid anymore. It’s just...he’s really...strong...”

  Once the heat of the fight and her encounter with the vigilantes subsided, Alice felt chilled by her drenched clothes and hair. The cabbie took one look at her and offered to take her to the hospital free of charge.

  “No, thanks, 1630 Summers Drive, please.”

  He stared at her a moment longer, then shrugged and pulled away from the curb.

  Alice wondered just how bad she looked and rubbed the side of her face, wincing as she felt the beginning of a bruise where one of the men had hit her. Then she glanced at her knuckles, faint bruises already appearing, the remnants of blood drying on her skin. Suddenly, anywhere but home seemed like a good idea, but she also knew that her aunt and uncle would worry if she missed dinner. Besides, where could she go looking like this?

  More importantly though: How did she explain all this?

  She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself before facing her aunt and uncle. Questions whirled in her mind, refusing to be ignored.

  Why was she attacked? They hadn’t asked for money and didn’t seem to want sex. It felt like they had wanted her, specifically — but why? Did it have something to do with the fights her uncle and aunt had been having? And if so, what could possibly be happening that would make someone do this?

  Far too soon, the cabbie pulled up at the white and blue rambler. Her uncle’s red ‘55 Ford Squire was sitting outside; his vintage motorcycle a ghostly lump in the yard under its protective tarp. The roses her aunt obsessively tended trembled as the rain hit them, and a shadow paced along the curtain in the study.

  She hesitated, feeling as nervous as the day she had to tell her uncle that she’d broken his National Journalism award.

  “You okay, Miss?” the cabbie asked.

  She forced a smile. “Yep, thanks.”

  The galoshes slapped on the walk as she ran to the porch and eased the door open. Expecting someone to come running to her, Alice waited. When no one came, she thought maybe she’d be able to sneak to her room and tidy up before facing their barrage of questions, but the galoshes betrayed her, slipping out of her hands and landing with a thud on the hardwood floor. The door to the study flew open and her uncle stared at her, his curly gray hair wild around his head.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  Alice opened her mouth to speak when Aunt Diana came rushing around the corner.

  “Good God!” she said.

  “I’m fine,” Alice said, stepping away from their reaching hands.

  “Fine!” Aunt Diana said, touching the bruise on Alice’s cheek.

  “Who did this?” Uncle Logan asked, his brown eyes flashing behind his glasses.

  Alice took a deep, bracing breath. “Three men attacked me while I was locking up the shop.”

  “What?!” Aunt Diana exclaimed, blue eyes wide.

  “Son of a—”

  “I handled it! Believe me, they look worse.”

  “Do you think that’s what matters here?” Aunt Diana said.

  “I’m calling Detective Garrick,” Uncle Logan said.

  “No!” Alice said.

  He stopped in his tracks. “Why not, you were attacked!”

  “Yes...” She took another deep breath. “And I want to know why.”

  Uncle Logan held her gaze, and then fol
ded his arms. “So do I.”

  Aunt Diana’s look was pointed. “Logan—”

  “Don’t, Diana,”

  “What is going on?” Alice said, her voice raised more than she’d intended. “And don’t say ‘nothing’, because I’m guessing that’s not true.”

  Uncle Logan removed his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his untucked shirt.

  “There is something, but it’s nothing for you to be concerned with.”

  “For God’s sake, Logan! She’s not a child!”

  “She’s not you, either!” he snapped.

  Alice felt an old, forgotten fear stir her in her belly and tried to push it away. Her aunt and uncle were nothing at all like her father and mother. Still, the sight of them yelling at each other wasn’t easy for her.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. If this is putting her in danger, she deserves to know!” Aunt Diana’s hands clenched into fists at her side.

  “Not if I quit the story.” Uncle Logan took a step toward Aunt Diana, his voice taking on a growl.

  “You can’t. The work you’re doing—”

  “Doesn’t matter, if it puts people I love in danger!”

  “What story?” Alice asked.

  Their gazes swung to her, as if they’d forgotten she was there.

  She quickly thought through what topics Uncle Logan had been especially fired up about in the last few months, and easily narrowed it down.

  “The murders at the warehouse,” she said. “They’re more than they appear, aren’t they?”

  Uncle Logan sighed. “Sometimes, you’re too damn smart.”

  Alice couldn’t help smiling.

  “To anger someone like this, we’d have to be talking about a crime syndicate, wouldn’t we?”

  “It doesn’t matter, because I’m done.”

  “Aunt Diana’s right, you can’t quit. You must be getting close to something for them to do this.”

  “Someone else—” Uncle Logan began.

  “Won’t do as good a job,” Aunt Diana said.

  “And besides,” Alice said, squaring her shoulders, “I want in.”

  They stared at her.

  “What?” Uncle Logan asked.

  “I want to help.”

  Instead of the resounding ‘no’ that Alice was prepared for, Uncle Logan turned to Aunt Diana, fixing her with a sad stare. But Diana didn’t look at him. Instead, she fidgeted with her locket and stared at the floor. It was as if he were blaming Aunt Diana for something, but Alice couldn’t see what.