I looked over at the clock and regrettably stood up. “I don’t think they really have another choice. It’s not like they’d risk sticking around here while demons are attacking. The last thing Mom wants is for one of the ladies from the Woodstone Regency Society to see her daughter becoming a vampiric bride from Hell.”
“I know it’s probably not worth much, but you’ll always have me,” said Reese, lightly nudging me with his elbow as we started making our way toward the train platforms. “If you need anything…or even just want to talk, you give me a call.”
“I will.”
Reese turned me so that I faced him, and I didn’t have time to react. He kissed me. Not like how he had earlier. And not like Blaine. It was soft, gentle, tender. Sweeter than anything I knew I deserved. “Let me come with you,” he murmured.
“Reese-”
“Even just for a week.” I started shaking my head, but he wouldn’t have it. “After the massacre at the school, it’ll be closed tomorrow. The cops already have the entire block roped off. And after the weekend, my mom can cover for me for a few days. The police would be stupid to question my absence, considering Carly and Mark vouched for me. I’m apparently the new resident hero, having saved my fellow classmates from Daniel’s murder rampage.”
“You guys didn’t say anything to the police about me, did you? They don’t know I was there when—”
“Relax, Princess. You’re in the clear.”
“Thank you.” Curiosity got the best of me, even now. I had to ask. “Why do you call me that, really?”
Reese grinned. “Because you may or may not remind me of a certain snarky, kickass Alderaanian with a feisty temper.”
I laughed. Actually laughed. “Princess Leia?”
He nodded.
I gave him a playful shove. “You’re such a dork.”
“Says the girl who knew what an Alderaanian was.” He pulled me in, and this time I didn’t object, reveling in the steadfast heat from his body. Reese felt the shiver run through me, only urging him to hold me closer.
The loudspeaker clicked on with a monotone voice announcing, “The next train at Platform 2 is the 11:14 service to Portland Transportation Center...”
“That’s me.” I lamentably peeled myself free from his embrace. “Listen, Reese, I don’t know where my folks are planning on taking me after this, so….”
Reese understood what I meant. He dug into his coat pocket, fetching out a freshly printed ticket. “Good thing I’m coming along then.”
“What?” I snatched the paper from him in disbelief. Sure enough, it was for the very same train. “But how…?”
“There were only two choices left on the board for tonight, and Wells seemed like an unlikely bet.”
“Reese, I can’t let you do this. Between Mr. Reynolds and Blaine…and God only knows who else—”
He merely shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Yeah, but we’re gonna be on the road. You don’t have any clothes, or even a toothbrush—”
“Good thing I also packed a bag.”
My smile threatened to tear my face in half, and I didn’t care. “You’re kidding?”
“Just gotta get it out of my truck.” He planted a kiss on my cheek before jogging off, giving me a parting wink for good measure.
Only the low rumble of machinery filled the silence until my stomach let out a monstrous growl. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch with exception to the single strawberry from Mom’s party. My nerves were still wound so tightly though that I hadn’t the time to acknowledge my hunger. Several vending machines rested in the far corner by an old payphone, so I fished into my pocket and retrieved a couple singles. Ice pricked up my spine though as a sharp metallic chime echoed across the vast open space.
The payphone.
Without so much as a thought, my hand reached for the receiver. It wasn’t until my fingers were curled around it that I regained control of my own actions. What was I doing? That invisible tug deep inside my gut wrenched me forward, begging, pleading for me to take the receiver off the cradle hook. I tried pulling my hand away, but the sensation only worsened. I didn’t have a choice. Every last cell in my body clawed against my skin until I finally surrendered. I pressed the phone against my ear, but couldn’t bring myself to speak.
“Hey, lovely.”
My grip tightened on the device, threatening to snap it between my fingers. Panic arrested every instinct within me as I spun in every direction.
His breathing was unmistakably labored as he rasped, “You can relax. I’m not there.”
That much I did know. I couldn’t sense him, but that didn’t mean someone else hadn’t been sent in his stead.
“Sorry for not being there to see you off, but I’m a bit under the weather.” Blaine tried to laugh. Instead, a ragged cough greeted me from the other end.
For the most part, the entire platform was visible. Nobody else was there. But even if I managed to get on the train without a problem, who’s to say there wouldn’t be a band of thugs waiting to snatch me up at the next stop?
“You won’t be followed. I can promise you that much.”
My whole spine stiffened. Could he really read my thoughts? How else had he known where I’d be?
“But you can’t run forever.” Any attempt to sound lighthearted was gone. “The time will come when we’ll need to consummate our bond. And I will come to collect you.”
Without having to look, I knew I’d ignited at least three runes, because light was exploding from my sleeve and my whole arm vibrated from the surge of restrained power. I wanted him here. I wanted him standing in front of me so I could bury my fist into his skull. I wanted to rip his heart clean from his chest. I wanted to kill him.
Warmth spread over me, and I furiously whipped around. The fear uncoiled at the sight of razor-cut brown hair appearing over the top of the payphone dock. It was Reese, jogging towards the platform with a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder as gears shrieked from down the tracks. The train was pulling into the station.
“I know you hate me,” Blaine murmured. “But you will change your mind, someday.”
“That’s not today,” was all I said, placing the phone back on the hook.
Epilogue
The onslaught of rain made it virtually impossible for Maddox to see anything as the wipers zipped across the windshield. Showers hadn’t been shown on the forecast, but this sudden downpour came as no surprise. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And the weather always had a strange way of reflecting it. The tires kicked up rock fragments as he swung his Escalade into the gravel parking lot. Cutting the engine, he hiked up the neckline of his frock coat and raced out into the storm up to the front entrance of the establishment.
“Basin Street Blues” played in the distance as the smell of beer battered onion rings and char-broiled burgers greeted him upon entering. The 1920’s throwback speakeasy held some fond memories that very few nowadays remembered. Unfortunately, the bar had recently taken up new ownership, making the clientele almost entirely of the demonic variety. The young man didn’t mind his fellow workmates, but he still preferred to never mix business with pleasure.
“Welcome to Nucky’s,” began the hostess before surrendering her gaze to the man hustling down the main hall towards her. “Oh, it’s you.” She scoffed, setting down the menus she had preemptively grabbed.
The young man brushed his sopping ashy locks from his eyes and shook out the rainwater clinging to his leather coat, making a deliberate mess on the floor. He hated having to deal with succubi like Eva. They were always holier-than-thou, like they were Satan’s gift to the world.
“I need to see him,” the young man shouted over the music and loud clamor of the club.
“I’m sorry, but he’s in the middle of a game right now,” she replied with fake pleasantness, casting him a nauseating smile. “He’s not to be disturbed.”
“Trust me, he’ll want to hear what I have to say,” the man
remarked impatiently.
“Well, why don’t you go join the rest of the mutts over there, and I’ll let you know when your number comes up.” She cocked her head over towards the bar where he immediately recognized at least a handful of his colleagues who were clearly already waiting to have an audience with the boss.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I haven’t got time for this.” He plowed past her and pushed his way through the mass of people occupying the dance floor.
“Maddox!” The hostess squealed, racing clumsily after him in her towering heels. “You can’t go back there!”
“Read ’em and weep, gents,” declared the Englishman, laying down a straight flush onto the table of the private gaming room. Everyone moaned, tossing their cards back into the pile. The wood paneled space was engulfed in a calm haze of smoke as all the men took long drags on their cigars and cigarettes. As the entryway door yanked open though, the smoke swirled restlessly above the gaming table as the young man crashed to a halt upon arrival. His throat bobbed at the sight of his boss positioned at the other side of the room. Everyone fell quiet as they observed the lad.
“Sir, I am so, so sorry,” Eva panted as she practically collapsed into the room. “I told him he had to wait—”
“Don’t worry yourself, darling. It’s plenty all right,” replied the Englishman, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand. His nostrils flared as he blew out the smoke from his nose, making his already intimidating expression look all the more dragon-like. “What can I help you with, Maddox? It’s a bit early for your shift to be over, isn’t it?”
“I’m still on the clock, sir,” the young man replied sheepishly.
“Might I ask what the issue is then? Blaine requires an extra pair of eyes on him right now, and you’re not doing anybody any good standing here,” remarked the Englishman.
“That’s the thing.” The boy choked on the words. “There’s been an…incident.”
The Englishman practically growled as he tapped his cigarette against the lip of the ashtray in front of him, flicking off the accumulated ash. “Of course there was.”
“Hey, Mad,” said a scruffy ruffian in a black and white racing jacket coming into the doorway from the club.
“Val,” the blonde boy addressed politely.
“Boss, that brunette at the bar was just asking about you,” laughed Val with roguish delight, smoothing out his pompadour-styled hair before knocking back a shot on the table. “And she has a twin sister.”
The Englishman buried his hands into his face exhaustedly.
“Okay, what’d I miss? You guys look like you were all just splashed with holy water.”
“Where’s Blaine now?” snarled the Englishman.
Val groaned at the name-drop. “What the devil has he done now?”
“He’s back at the manor,” replied Maddox.
“Is that so?” The Englishman’s left eyebrow cocked up as he glanced at his watch. “Did he change the girl?”
Maddox nodded.
“So the two are at the estate then?” His boss grinned. “Calling it a night for a private shag doesn’t exactly sound too concerning. Sounds like our boy’s doing his job.”
“And taking pleasure in doing so,” chuckled Val.
“It’s not like that,” corrected Maddox. “Blaine was attacked tonight.”
The subtle chorus of laughs that had circulated amongst the room suddenly hushed.
“Attacked how?” asked Val.
Maddox pulled up an image on his phone and handed it to his colleague. “He was barely conscious when we dragged him into the manor. He’d been cut pretty bad.”
“Holy shit,” mumbled the ruffian, cringing at the grisly snapshot of Blaine’s sliced arm. “He’s fine now, right?”
Maddox shook his head. “The injury’s at least an hour old, and it hasn’t healed. At all.”
“How bad is it?” asked one of the other men at the table as Val gave the phone over to the Englishman.
“The entire length of his forearm was knifed open with an Angelorum blade,” said Val laboriously.
Everyone gasped, and Eva fell back against the wall.
“He’s as good as dead,” murmured one man. “No one could survive the Angelorum’s hellfire, not with a wound as extensive as that.”
“We have another problem,” said Maddox. “The girl is gone.”
“What?”
“She wasn’t with Blaine at the manor. And the guy passed out five feet into the doorway, so we couldn’t ask him where she was. When he finally came to, he said he let her go.”
“Whatever for?” growled his boss.
“They were ambushed by a pack of Reapers. At least twenty in their ranks. Given Ryder’s current state of health, he knew he wouldn’t be able to defend her if they tracked him down.”
“But he knows where she is?” urged Val. Maddox didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “Goddamn it.”
“There’s something else.”
The entire room shared in a collective moan.
“The girl was with someone else when everything went down, and by the looks of it, they were a thing.” Maddox retrieved his phone and pulled up another image, handing it to the Englishman.
Raelynd took it, his eyes widening in an instant. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” he murmured to the image.
“What is it?” Val walked over and stole a glance at the photograph, snatching it from his hands the moment his eyes settled on the picture. “That’s not who I think it is?”
Raelynd emitted a low laugh as he settled back in his chair, running a hand across his left eyebrow. “Well, well, well. What an interesting development indeed.”
“What could possibly be funny about this?” Val begged, slamming the phone down onto the tabletop. “I told you! I told you right from the start; we should have taken Gabriel out when we had him. Now look at this! How did we not know about him?”
Raelynd’s smile still did not fade. “I knew, very well.”
“Are you serious?”
“Do I honestly strike you as the type to overlook such a detail?” the Englishman mused. “I did underestimate Gabriel though. Never thought he’d go to these measures. Seems we’re gonna be in for quite the contest.”
His contentment only boiled Val’s blood all the more. “What contest? The game’s over, and it never even began! Blaine failed us, and his allegiance is undoubtedly in question. Even if your man survives the Angelorum’s injury, he’s a liability!”
“Oh, my poor comrade. You cannot see the forest through the trees,” addressed his boss grinningly. “Mr. Ryder doesn’t need to be on our side for him to perform his services.”
“What aren’t you telling us?” queried Val, seeing a sly glimmer ablaze in the Englishman’s eyes.
“Let’s just say that his loyalty is not nearly as important as his lips are. As for the other matter,” Raelynd cooed, pointing at the brown-haired boy in the photograph, “Gabriel’s gonna learn his lesson the hard way. He’s chosen to interfere. It’s open season now, and casualties are guaranteed.”
“You really think we’ll be able to pull this off in overtime?”
“My dear Valor,” purred Raelynd as black inked over the entirety of his gray eyes, “the game has only just begun.”
Insidious: (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 1) Page 36