by L. K. Below
And waited.
Holding him for so long no doubt gave him the wrong impression, but nothing came. Maybe if she shut her eyes. She did, but no scene presented itself. Nothing from the past or future. Just black. Releasing his hand, she gently tugged free.
Her powers were still blocked. Except for her unusually keen instincts. Those operated as normal, warning her even now something wasn’t quite as it should be. Either that, or she recently caught a stomach bug.
“Goodbye,” she whispered.
He struggled to his feet. “Are you going to Underground? I’ll come with you.”
Maybe she would be able to lose him easier in the crowd. His presence had long since grown dull.
She strode in silence to the bus stop. After boarding the bus, she mutely rode it until reaching the right stop. Although he sat beside her, Devin seemed to realize he shouldn’t push his luck with idle chatter. That, or he didn’t have anything to talk about besides Terrence. Either way, she was thankful to travel the blocks in peace.
They fell into step upon walking to Underground. But the closer she got, the tighter her stomach clenched. Devin must have noticed the pain etched into her face.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, even though she’d never felt further from it. Something was wrong.
Inside Underground, the music pulsed. Instead of the energetic atmosphere, though, the club was dead. Some people danced and drank as per usual, but there were faces missing. Where were the regulars? At least half hadn’t shown up tonight.
Lori reached the bar, Devin on her heels. She took a seat. When Scissors sidled up to her, deep lines were etched around the faux-vampire’s nose and mouth. Painful lines. What had happened?
The vamp stopped short when she saw Devin. Her eyebrows knit together, wary as she measured the outsider. Then she turned to Lori, her uneven hair shielding half her face.
Leaning close, Scissors spoke in such a low voice, it barely carried above the music. “Lori, I know you’re having a hard time, what with your breakup with Terrence. But…” The bartender shot a glance toward Devin. Clearly, she disapproved.
Good thing Lori had no romantic intentions toward him.
Ignoring the vamp’s pointed statement, Lori said, “Something’s wrong tonight. What?”
Unease stretched the skin of Scissors’s face, to the point that she nearly looked like a zombie. “Jeremiah.”
Lori stiffened at the name. An ex one-night-stand who’d had far too big an ego. She’d had to put out a restraining order just to convince him to leave her alone. And even that had only helped marginally. He still frequented Underground, after all. But as long as he didn’t approach her, Lori didn’t care.
“He’s dead,” Scissors croaked.
With those two words, the tension in her stomach tightened and popped. The warning, gone. This was what her instincts had been trying to tell her. If so, could the murder be related to the threatening notes and texts she’d been receiving?
And she had no doubt it was murder. Healthy twenty-six-year-olds didn’t just cock up their toes, even if they did drink blood once a month in a vampiric ritual. She hadn’t known him to be sick.
“How?” She forced the word out around her suddenly swollen tongue.
“Murder,” Scissors whispered, confirming Lori’s suspicions. Tears welled in the faux-vampire’s eyes. “Stake through the heart.”
What a gruesome image. Shifting on the balls of her feet, Lori tried to conceal the stake tucked into her boot top. Even if she hadn’t committed this murder.
The club seemed to spin around her. Was this murder related, or not? The past two months closed around her like a vise, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. “I–I need air.” Underground was too stifling tonight.
Stumbling to the door, she gulped in the cold outdoor air. It helped to clear her head, but only marginally.
“What did she say?” Devin’s voice sounded from behind. He had followed her out.
With the news, she didn’t have the patience to deal with him. “A friend is dead,” she choked out. “I’m sorry, but I’d like to be alone.”
Holding up his hands, he stepped back. “When will I see you again?”
Never. The word was on the tip of her tongue, but something about his expression stopped her. A different man had asked her that not too long ago. Defeated, she said, “I’ll meet you here tomorrow. Seven o’clock.”
As a smile spread across Devin’s face, Lori’s phone vibrated in her pocket. What now? She fished the phone out and thumbed a button to read the message.
Go back to your dorm room where you belong.
Another unknown number.
Fear and adrenaline pumped through her. To Devin, she snapped, “I have to go.” Then, heedless to how she looked, she sprinted down the sidewalk. The warehouse Shark and Byte had used for the Circle wasn’t far. Please, let Byte be in…
Upon reaching the nondescript building, she tore open the side door. Steps descended into a dark hideout lit by the cold blue light of flickering monitors. Relief weakened her knees. Byte was in.
Barreling down the stairs, Lori barked. “I need a number traced. Now!”
Byte swiveled in his chair. His light hair seemed almost grayish in the wan light. The shadows emphasized his gaunt face. Surprise flitted across his features before he swiveled in his chair, poised over the keyboard. She must have sounded enough like Shark for him not to question her. She recited the number from her most recent text.
Within seconds, he said, “I’m sorry, Shade. It’s another prepaid cellphone.”
“Does it have GPS?”
The sound of clicking keys and the whirling drone of the computer system filled the silence. Then Byte stopped, staring at the screen. “Holy shit…”
Lori peered over his shoulder. The GPS tracking software had honed in on a blip right outside the warehouse. Someone had followed her, after all.
She vaulted up the steps to the street above. Where… Movement caught her eye. A startled figure sinking back into the shadows. After a quick check to ensure no cars were coming on the deserted street, she dashed after the form. Upon reaching the spot where she’d seen the figure, she found no one. And no means of escaping, unless they’d learned to walk through walls or turn invisible. Had she been mistaken?
The glint of the street lamp reflected off something on the sidewalk. A phone. Lori bent to pick it up. From the moment her fingers curled around the device, an image flooded her vision.
Terrence stood against the building wall, out of the streetlamp’s range. His bright blue eyes pierced the shadows like small flashlights. In his hand, he clutched a phone. The same phone as the one she held?
Impossible. She shook away the vision, staring down at the compact device.
Just who followed her?
* * * *
Heaven flattened against the wall as Lori dashed out of the warehouse. Sharkhouse, it used to be called, while Shark had still been living. Now Heaven didn’t know what to call it.
The goth raced across the street, arrowing for a shabby building. She stopped short to pick up…what? From her vantage, Heaven couldn’t see. And she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by moving. Whatever it was, Lori tossed it away after a moment. It made a skittering sound as it met the pavement. Tucking her coat closer around her skinny form, the goth strode quickly down the street. As she passed beneath the flickering light of a street lamp, Heaven glimpsed her face. She looked almost…scared. What was going on?
Heaven counted slowly to three, not wanting to alert Lori’s suspicions by following too quickly. Just as she reached the last number, she froze in her tracks. Another figure detached from the shadows, the same brown-haired, hooked-nose man who had been following Lori. But this time, he didn’t pursue the goth.
He entered Sharkhouse.
What business could he have there? As far as Heaven knew, he wasn’t an Order member, let alone a member of Shark’s circle. Torn, she te
etered on the balls of her feet. Follow Lori, or wait?
Curiosity won out. After stopping at Underground, the only other place Lori would be likely to go would be her dorm room. But this… This Heaven had to dig to the bottom of.
Seconds lengthened into minutes. A chill crept through Heaven’s heavy pullover sweater. When it came down to a battle against the weather, the garment was no armor at all. Shivering, she fought to remain still.
Eventually, the man emerged again. From the tense set of his shoulders, whatever he’d gone into the building for, he hadn’t attained it. His hands were shoved into his pockets, even when he shouldered open the door. Weird. He headed down the street at a sedate pace.
Should she follow? But Byte might be inside the warehouse, and likely was if the door was unlocked. Following the stranger may or may not crack open the answers she sought. Questioning Byte certainly would. Decided, Heaven waited until the stranger was out of sight before she skirted down the street to the warehouse door.
Monitors colored the room with fluorescent hues, indicating Byte was in. Heaven slowly descended the stairs, contemplating how best to question him without him even knowing. They were close to the same age. Maybe a little flirting?
When she reached the bottom, she glanced up. A scream lodged in her throat.
Glasses hanging askew, Byte sat pinned to his chair with a knife through his chest. His eyes stared, unseeing. He gurgled.
“Byte?” Could he still be alive?
She rushed to his side, fighting back bile. His slim shoulders quivered as she neared. Another gurgle. Please, oh please let him live. She fought to free her phone from her jeans. No signal.
“Dammit!”
Maybe she could help him, stem the bleeding or something. She didn’t know First Aid. What was she supposed to do? Sidling around the steadily growing pool of blood, she pressed her fingers to his neck. Wasn’t she supposed to feel a beat, a pulse?
No…
Byte was already dead.
A sheen of tears clouded her eyes, intensifying with every second. She’d liked Byte, maybe even connected with him on some level. Why did he have to die? What kind of madman targeted the Order?
The stranger. He’d been the last to come in. He’d waltzed right out without looking perturbed at all. If he’d been an innocent bystander, he would have been shaken to see such a scene. He would have phoned the police.
Which meant he’d done it.
For the first time since she’d ventured down here, studied Byte’s computer screens. What had that guy wanted? All she saw was data. Personal data: phone numbers, addresses, names, and histories. Her name jumped out from the jumble.
A paper had fluttered to the ground by the printer. One corner was soaked in blood. Tiptoeing through the carnage, Heaven picked it up by a clean corner. It held Lori’s personal information, matching the same information on the screen.
As horror turned her stomach into an icy ball, Heaven slowly replaced the sheet. The man had taken the personal information of everyone in Shark’s circle. Sooner or later, he would come for her.
Chapter 5
The events of the previous day had paved the way for gruesome nightmares. Not only did images of Jeremiah’s death flitter through Lori’s skull while she slept, but they were joined with images of the past, the corpses of her friends and colleagues, topped with one murder which had never happened: Byte’s. She woke in a cold sweat three times. The last decided her.
Her heart thundered as she checked the floor for new notes. Her chest eased as she saw none, but then… A yellow flier about a bake sale. Was it only an ordinary flier?
Tear it up. She didn’t need to read whatever was written on it. But morbid curiosity took root and demanded she overturn the paper.
If you stay in your room, no harm will come to you.
Her stomach churned. The page fluttered from her fingers as she launched toward the bathroom. She barely reached the toilet before she cast up the contents of her stomach. The sickly tangy taste only brought on more vomiting. Sweat sprang onto her forehead, matting loose strands of her hair.
When she raised her head, Keri thrust a paper cup filled with water into her hand.
She hadn’t even noticed the adjoining door opening. “Thanks,” Lori said. She swished the liquid around her mouth, spitting it into the toilet before she flushed. It helped to rid her mouth of the awful taste, but not much. Standing, she ignored the concerned blonde and crossed to the sink. She slathered toothpaste onto her brush and started to scrub.
In the mirror, Keri hovered, concern, worry and pity pasted on her face. Just what Lori didn’t want or need. She spat into the sink, then assaulted her teeth with the brush once more.
Keri tentatively touched Lori’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Lori nodded.
Unfortunately, that didn’t appease the blonde. “You’re not…pregnant, are you?”
Lori nearly choked on the brush. Yanking it from her mouth, she swallowed a laugh. “No,” she said, trying to appear as truthful as possible. Wouldn’t that just make her life peachy, if she was pregnant? A last remnant of Terrence.
Even the thought burst the small bubble of mirth which had surfaced.
“Just a hangover,” she lied. She bent to rinse her mouth out with clean water. There, minty clean. She could get on with her day.
And whatever new terrors it held.
“You’ve been through a lot lately,” Keri said. Her voice was soft, like she spoke to a skittish horse. “Would you like to talk about it? It could help.”
Trust a psych major to urge her to talk about her feelings. Lori shook her head, striding into her room.
Unfortunately, Keri followed.
“Are you sure? There are proven studies–”
“No.”
“How about a friend, then? I’ll even let you do my makeup.”
Keri’s pity nearly made Lori sick again. However, hard as it was to force an angry, intimidating demeanor after having been caught throwing up, Lori had to try. “I have friends.”
“What about your boyfriend? I haven’t seen him around.”
“We broke up.”
If only it was so simple. But her relationship with Terrence had never been simple. Lori bit the inside of her cheek. The pain grounded her.
“What’s that?”
Lori jumped at Keri’s inquisitive tone. What was she looking at? Please, not the stake…Lori couldn’t explain that. She should have thrown it out, except…that led to the capture and identification of murderers, didn’t it? Better to keep it on her until she could bury it for good.
Bury it. Now there was a thought.
But Keri wasn’t staring at the stake hidden in Lori’s boot. The blonde bent to pick up the note Lori had discarded. Her eyes were wide when she resurfaced.
“Lori? I thought you said this had stopped.”
It had. But short of saying that, Lori didn’t know what to do.
Keri continued, “You have to go to the police.”
“I had a PI on it.”
“Had. Past tense. Why are you putting up with this? It’s dangerous.”
Lori shook her head, trying to find some reasonable argument to stop Keri from going on a rampage. “It isn’t the same guy.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. There are no murders with these notes.” Or so she thought. Jeremiah’s face flashed before her eyes. Was he connected?
But why would any murderer go after him? It had been years since she’d even talked to him. The murder brought a stab of alarm, but it didn’t compare to what she’d felt upon learning her parents had been killed. Or her friend Ritchie. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense for it to be connected.
“You should be careful, Lori.”
Reassurances wouldn’t help. Making nice wouldn’t help. Look what it had gotten her so far–a slim blond barnacle determined to make her discuss things she would rather leave in the past. Time to switch tactics.
> Using her coldest leave-me-alone face, she said, “What does it matter to you? You can’t pretend we’re friends.”
Hurt blossomed over Keri’s pretty features. “We could be.”
“I don’t want to. Go back to your own room, Keri. I’ve got things to do today.”
Guilt twisted her stomach as Keri left, but it was for the best. Staring at the ground, Lori wondered if what she’d said was true. What did she have to do today?
Then she remembered. She had to meet Devin at seven.
* * * *
Underground was still devoid of the regular faces to fill out the masses. Without those familiar faces, the club seemed almost alien. Fortunately, Scissors manned the bar. Lori slid into her regular seat and waited for the faux-vampire to notice her.
“Still slow, huh?”
Scissors nodded. “It will be for a couple more days , I imagine. I’d be with them if I didn’t have to take this shift.”
“Don’t you have another bartender?” Lori craned her neck, scouting for Heaven.
“She called in sick today, poor thing. Apparently she’s got a stomach flu and everything.”
Well, at least Lori wouldn’t have to deal with her.
“What can I get for you?”
Lori noticed Scissors’s wary gaze. She ignored it. “Coffee.”
A broad smile broke across the vamp’s face, displaying the pointy tips of fake fangs. “Coming right up.”
Then Lori realized this was the first time in three weeks she hadn’t ordered scotch. Maybe her life was finally getting back to normal. She smiled at the thought, and settled in to wait for Devin.
Midnight passed and he didn’t show. Lori nursed the rage boiling through her veins. What, he only wanted her if she was determined to have him four thousand miles away? Being stood up, like she had done to him, didn’t help her already poor opinion of him. Why had she even agreed to see him to begin with? Clearly, this was a sign. She had other things to do, better things. And Devin was too short for her tastes, anyway.
As of this moment, their association had ended.
Nodding to Scissors, who busily served customers, Lori fished money out of her pocket and left it on the counter. Then she strode from the club. At the door, her cellphone vibrated.