by L. K. Below
“Yes.”
He rewarded the word by releasing her hand. With a broad smile, he slid himself onto the empty stool next to her.
His smile… Coupled with his stubble, it gave an edge to his face. Predatory. For her? A twitch started in her stomach, but she couldn’t tell if it was good or a warning.
Rebuffing the advances of strangers was no trial for her. She would turn him away, too. Even if curiosity piqued her. What did he want from her? She started with the cold shoulder, mutely turning away and reaching for her shot glass.
On second thought, maybe alcohol wasn’t the best idea.
“Do you have a minute, Lori?”
His dulcet tones outshone the roar of the club. Gentle, like he approached a skittish stray dog. Lori didn’t want to indulge him, but curiosity deepened the tingle in her gut. She swallowed, wetting her throat before she tried to speak.
Without her makeup, she felt exposed. Unequal to driving him away. In defeat she said, “Yes. One minute.”
His expression was indulgent, his posture cocky. As he turned to the counter, a smile curved his lips. “Only one, eh? Well then I’d better make the best of it. I hope you don’t mind if I pause the clock for a second.” He held up his hand, hailing Heaven closer.
The blonde approached with wariness etched into her taut mouth. Her narrowed eyes glanced from Devin to Lori and back.
Devin didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll have a Bud.” He twisted to face Lori, nodding to her shot glass. “Would you like another?”
“No.”
Thank goodness, some of the stiffness had returned to her voice. She could last a minute in his presence, long enough to learn what he wanted and leave. But then how would she spend the rest of her night? Working on her thesis? The idea didn’t appeal to her.
Heaven opened the beer bottle and set it down in front of Devin. She barely took the time to scoop up the money he placed on the counter before skirting away.
Devin took a swig of his beer. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Cradling the bottle in one hand, he turned to Lori.
“I’m looking for someone. A man named Terrence Welsh. I have reason to believe you might know where he is.”
Terrence.
The club swam around her. Somehow, Lori kept from pitching onto the floor. The prick of pain from biting her tongue helped to keep her focused.
Was Devin a private investigator? An undercover cop? Did he know of Terrence’s death? Suppressing the urge to vomit, Lori answered slowly. Carefully. Giving nothing away. “I don’t. Sorry.”
Devin’s eyebrows lifted. “You don’t? Are you sure? My intel points to you as being…involved with Terrence.”
“I’m not.”
Her voice warbled, just a little. Betraying her uneasiness. Maybe her guilt too. She swallowed, trying to contain herself. By her choice, she had never been involved with Terrence. Not until the day before his death.
His death? Who was she kidding? She might as well admit it to herself if not to anyone else. She had killed him. Nothing could excuse that.
Coming to Underground had been a bad idea. Fishing out a couple bills to settle her tab, she stood. When she tried to leave, Devin gripped her hand. Anchoring her in place.
“I wouldn’t have pegged a smart girl like you to be involved with someone like him.”
Smart? She was, but no one ever saw past her angry gothic exterior. A spike of alarm straightened her spine. Had Devin researched her record at the university before seeking her out?
Yanking her hand away, she repeated, “I’m not.”
“You don’t have to pretend. I can see you care for him.”
Care? Care was the wrong word. That persistent bastard could rot in Hell for all she cared. In fact, she’d likely sent him there. She may have spent every waking moment for the past two months trying to convince him to back off, but she didn’t care a whit for him. No, her feelings toward him transcended such a gentle feeling. Terrence was an unhealthy addiction, and without him she suffered a bad withdrawal.
“I said we’re not involved.” There. Finally, her vehemence had returned to her voice. Enough bite to convince him to sniff elsewhere. Surely Terrence had had other friends? Lori had been the last to see him, but no one knew that. No one.
Without waiting for his response, she strode for the door.
Devin stepped into her path. Just like Terrence had upon their first meeting, blocking her way and insisting she hear him out. But unlike the time two months ago, Devin wouldn’t be rebuffed by a feint with the silver stake in her boot. He wasn’t a faux-vampire like Terrence. Not that she would ever make the same mistake again, even if she still carried the weapon for her own self-defense.
“It’s imperative I find him. If you know anything…”
“I don’t,” Lori said, for the last time. She shoved past Devin.
Before she moved farther than a foot away, he caught her arm. When she glared at him, he released her. He held up his hands. “Maybe we could talk, then. Tell me a bit about him.”
Lori stared down at him, trying to remain unyielding. In her heels, she towered over him by a good six or more inches. Even in her sock feet, he would likely stand a few inches shorter than her five-foot-eleven frame. She used her height to her advantage. If he wouldn’t take her words for an answer, maybe a change in demeanor would help.
“Not tonight then,” he muttered, half under his breath.
She barely heard above the music. She nearly smiled, but held herself in check. She didn’t want to encourage him, after all.
“Meet me here tomorrow night,” he said. “Then maybe we’ll go someplace more private to talk.”
Did that leering grin really work on women? Lori didn’t let her emotions, disgust or otherwise, show. Instead, she turned and walked away.
“Seven o’clock tomorrow.” He hadn’t taken her rejection for what it was.
Pausing in her tracks, Lori waited to see if he would say more. When he didn’t, she escaped into the cold night air.
A brisk walk to the bus stop cleared her head, though the ride to the university stop brought with it the return of her melancholy mood. Sitting in her dorm room tonight didn’t hold any appeal, but her one respite, Underground, was out of the question.
Reaching her room, she decided to wash off the lingering sweat from the dream which had woken her. Thoughts of Terrence swirled in her head as she showered, accumulating the longer she tried to ignore them. But these were now overlaid with the memory of Devin’s request. Just who was he, and why did he look for Terrence?
It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be likely to find Terrence, not if his body had suddenly disappeared. Again, she replayed that night, feeling the muscles of his chest give way before her stake. Undoubtedly, he couldn’t have lived. Even if the ambulance had reached him within seconds. Unlikely, considering the part of town they had been in. So why hadn’t his body been found? Had Rosland had an accomplice?
Suddenly, the vapor-fogged air no longer gave her sustenance. Gasping, she fumbled to turn off the tap and stumble into her own room. The hunt. Was it really over, or would she find herself victim again?
A piece of paper rested near the door. Lori’s stomach heaved. Please let it be nothing more sinister than a school flyer. Trembling, she plucked it off the floor by her long fingernails, careful not to mar the page with her prints. Why? She didn’t know. Her last private investigator had died, after all.
Pursing her lips to hold back the bile tickling her throat, she unfolded the page. A droplet of water from her still-wet hair fell, blotting the white. She read the carefully printed words.
Be careful who you associate with. Stay away from him.
Him? Devin? If so, the author of this mysterious note need not worry.
She had no intention of meeting with him.
Chapter 3
A week passed in stifling monotony. To prevent herself from running into Devin, Lori confined herself to the university campus. Surely a wee
k was more than long enough to convince him to give up. What man would wait night after night at the same club after being stood up?
Terrence. Lori couldn’t suppress the thought. Not too long ago, she had pushed him away, only to cause him to cling harder. But that had been different. Upon being commanded to recruit him into the Order, she’d had no choice but to spend time with him. If I get a text telling me to recruit Devin, I’m going to chuck my phone at the wall.
But her situation with Devin was different. Terrence had been interested in her for personal reasons; Devin just wanted to know more about Terrence.
Know more, or find him? Devin hadn’t been clear when he’d approached her. From his first question, he could be an old acquaintance of Terrence’s…or a cop charged with investigating his disappearance. But he wanted to talk about Terrence? Why?
It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be meeting with him, anyway.
But a week was far too long to stay in one place. She needed to get out. The campus wasn’t big enough for her liking. Not to mention, nothing was open to suit her nocturnal tendencies.
This time, unlike a week ago, she primped herself properly. Pale skin, burgundy lipstick, eyeliner. Netted gloves and chains on her heavy boots. Coupled with her heaviest jacket to counter the fresh powdering of snow lining the ground. When she walked into the open air, she let out a sigh of relief. She had nothing to do indoors but think.
And right now, she didn’t want to think.
Her breath puffed out in front of her as she strode to the bus station. Climbing aboard the bus, she rubbed her frozen hands together. The blocks melded together as she rode on, staring out the window. Eventually, the bus pulled to a stop and she stepped out.
Chill air wrapped around her. Huddling into her jacket, she walked briskly to Underground. Even from a block away, the deadened roar of the club soothed her. The blaring music grew louder with every step.
Recognizing her, the bouncer let her right in. As the door closed behind her, warmth started to seep into her bones again. She smiled, savoring it as she navigated the crowd on the way to her customary seat at the bar.
She stilled. Her smile slipped. Devin sat in her seat.
Emergency. Evacuate!
She backpedaled, but didn’t pay attention to the scenery. Colliding with a wooden table, she fell ass-over-head onto the flat surface. A shatter hailed the breaking of glasses as the table rocked, threatening to deposit her on the floor. The occupants grabbed her, holding the table in place. Lori felt their eyes on her acutely. Everyone stared. I’m not a rodeo clown.
Then maybe she shouldn’t act like one. Trying to ride the bucking table hadn’t been the best move if she’d wanted to escape unseen.
Without meeting anyone’s eyes, she muttered, “Sorry. Thanks.”
Maybe, if luck was on her side, she could still leave unnoticed.
“Lori!”
When had luck ever been on her side? Lori turned as Scissors rushed toward her, the bartender’s jagged hair falling into her face.
“Lori, are you all right?”
“Yeah, fine.” Edge away. Yeah, just like that. Maybe he wouldn’t have spotted…
No such luck. When she glanced toward the bar, she met Devin’s determined gaze.
Scissors busily brushed off Lori’s coat, searching for glass fragments. Lori stepped back. “I need to change.” When she turned, her peripheral vision caught Devin leaping to his feet to follow her. On a scale of one to God-this-sucks, her day was about an eleven. Even without moving, she knew she would never outrun him. Steeling herself, she waited.
“Guess I neglected to mention which Thursday we were meeting.”
A joke? Lori eyed Devin warily, but didn’t move. Not even to comment. That wily charm wouldn’t work on her. She’d braved Terrence, after all. In comparison, he was an amateur.
After a minute, his smile slipped. “I understand why you don’t want to meet with me.”
Oh he did, did he?
“You don’t know me. You have absolutely no reason to trust me.”
Truer words Lori had never heard. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “How did you say you knew Terrence?” Brother, cousin, friend?
Or undercover cop?
“I didn’t. Listen, asking you to meet me privately without knowing me was a mistake. But I think we both agree we can’t talk comfortably in here.”
Ah, but Lori didn’t care whether or not she could talk to him. The less contact with him, the better.
Unable to read her thoughts on the subject, he continued, “Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere you consider safe.”
“And where exactly would that be?” She crossed her arms over her chest. If the conversation hadn’t already long since worn thin, it did now. Would she have to swear off her favorite club just to avoid him?
A twitter started in her stomach. A warning, like the slightest brush of a predator’s claws. Her instincts had never led her wrong before. She should obey them and end all contact with him here and now.
His smile was smug. “A church. Maybe the one by the university? On–”
“I know where it is,” she snapped. But her voice lacked venom. Instead, it held something much more akin to fear. Were his words a veiled threat? Clearly, he told her he knew exactly where to find her if she didn’t show up.
The widening of his smile betrayed the same intent. “Tomorrow, six o’clock. I’ll be waiting.”
As he brushed past her, the shiver in her stomach intensified. Terrence’s face suddenly swam in front of her eyes. She missed him so much, the painful pang nearly bent her in two. For a second, she thought she saw Terrence’s broad shoulders tower over the crowd. But the mirage soon dissipated. He wasn’t here. If he had been, would she have let him take her home?
She walked home alone, savoring the icy air. It made her feel alive, if uncomfortable. Her jacket would need to be dry-cleaned to remove the stains. A problem for another day. Right now, she needed to figure out what she would tell Devin.
He wanted information on Terrence. But what information? Was he, in fact, looking to draw out a confession of her misdeeds? She wrapped her arms around her torso. She needed a valid excuse, a valid explanation. She didn’t have one. If Devin was really an undercover cop, she might soon go to jail.
At the moment, she couldn’t muster up much dread over the thought.
The dorm was deserted. Her dorm room, even more. But when she flicked on the lights, she noticed something on the ground. A note.
Not again.
With apprehension digging into her stomach, she unfolded the note.
If you value your life, you’ll stay away from him.
Methodically, she ripped the paper to shreds. Who would she give it to? Her PI? Garcias was dead. Same as the creator of the last notes she’d received. Even so, the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen.
The death threats had started again.
* * * *
The day settled into dusk early, an attribute of the approaching winter. As she exited the dorm, Lori paused. Don’t do this. But what choice did she have? Unless she relinquished her dreams of earning her Masters in Literature, she couldn’t flee the campus. And Devin knew where she lived, where she slept. Besides, if he was an undercover cop, fleeing would only mark her as being guilty.
You are guilty.
Ignoring the little voice constantly harassing her over Terrence’s death, she strode into the deepening night. Tension clawed at her gut, warning her with every new step, to turn back. Lori plowed onward.
The church steeple loomed above, but Lori paused. Last chance to turn back. She shot a look of longing over her shoulder.
That man… His hooded gaze pierced her even from across the street. With night descending, she couldn’t make out his features, but there was something familiar about him. Terrence? Impossible. Her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. She glanced down for a split second to fish it out, but when she raised her gaze once more, the figure had disappeared. If he
had even been there to begin with.
Was she hallucinating? Going mad? Terrence was dead, so she must be.
If he was dead, what had happened to his body?
No, she had to stop thinking that way. No one could live after being staked in the chest. Not even a wannabe vampire. Especially a wannabe vampire.
Her hand clenched around the cellphone, reminding her of the text she’d received. Glancing down, she stilled.
Go home. Lock the door if you know what’s good for you.
She didn’t recognize the number, but the intent shone through loud and clear. Who was her stalker? The figure following her? He had to be, in order to know she was no longer in her dorm room.
Fear seized her muscles. She couldn’t walk into the church. She couldn’t backtrack to her room, either. Then where? Underground? The police station? With her last stalker, she had held off crawling to the police because of the Order. The Aka Druj Spenta Michos was secret, held hidden from everyone but other members. From the very first note, the very first murder, her last stalker had clearly been entrenched in the recent cacophony with the Order. To prevent exposure, she’d found a fellow member and approached him. This case? No murder, nothing concrete. Just a few notes threatening her away from Devin. Could be a run-of-the-mill stalker or even a jealous girlfriend.
But how had they gotten her cellphone number? A jealous girlfriend with resources, then.
Maybe approaching the police with a complaint was the right thing to do. Devin would just have to wait to interrogate her another day. If he didn’t get so frustrated he decided to give up. Smiling at the thought, she switched direction.
“Lori?”
Damn. He’d caught her. The police would still be there tomorrow. And unfortunately, so would her death threats. Maybe she’d get another. She’d destroyed the first two, but wouldn’t she need those for evidence?
Devin’s hand ghosted over her shoulder, ratcheting her unease higher. Like a hive of bees swarming beneath her skin, ready to sting. Did her senses warn her away from Devin, or away from the church? She balled her fist, wishing her stake was closer at hand. But it remained securely tucked into her boot.