Believer

by Ravin Tija Maurice

  Not this shit again.

  “Hi,” I chippered right back, because why the fuck not. “Who is this?”

  “I’m Nikki. Who is this?”

  “Hi, Nikki. I’m Camille. I’m looking for Fray. This is the right number, isn’t it?”

  “Oh hey, Camille! Fray told me a lot about you. Hang on one sec.” She covered the receiver with her hand, and there was some shuffling. Then silence. A wave of rage crashed into me, and I had to bite back a scream. He spoke about me to this woman? What the hell was happening?

  Finally, after a few minutes, he said, “Hello?”

  “Hey! It’s Camille. How are you?” I tried my best to keep up the chipper voice and hide my anger. Because, in reality, I knew better than to ever think that Noah Fray would only want to be with me.

  “I’m okay, how are you?”

  “Good!”

  He was silent for a few moments before saying, “Listen, I think I should explain...”

  “No need to explain! You made no commitments to me. And please don’t think I was silly enough to believe all that schmooze talk.” I chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, you can literally have any girl you want. Why would you ever choose someone like me?”

  “Cas—”

  I bit back my tears and tried to keep my tone friendly. “Hey, have you heard from Bliss at all? I can’t find her, and I’m worried.”

  He managed to stutter out, “N–no–no, I haven’t. Sorry. Did you track her phone?”

  My Spidey sense started tingling. I couldn’t tell if I was wigged out by ‘Nikki’ or if there was something fishy going on. I didn’t understand how the Spidey sense worked, but I knew enough to pay attention when it was warning me about something. Or someone.

  “Okay. Well, if you speak to her, can you tell her to call me? I would really appreciate it.”

  “I will. Can I come—”

  “Sorry, I have to get back to work. I don’t have time right now.”

  “How about tonight?”

  I paused, and the chipperness wore off. “No, I think I’m good. Tell Bliss to call me. Beyond that, I think we’re done. No need to trouble yourself with trying to explain.”

  I turned off my phone and put it on my desk. I breathed deeply a few times to try to calm my nerves.

  Maybe I overreacted. Maybe there was a perfectly innocent explanation. She was his assistant. Or worked for his record label. Or his maid.

  Or I am the biggest schmuck around.

  I stayed in my office until I finished both coffees, and then decided to go looking for food. The caffeine jitters were a little disconcerting but focusing on them stopped me from focusing on other bullshit, so it worked out.

  Leaving the safety of my office made me feel like someone had popped my bubble. The emotions I had been pushing back came crashing into me like a wave. I wanted to cry and scream all at the same time. Why me?

  I wandered into the breakroom and found a plate of pastries. I randomly grabbed one and felt a hand on my back as I stuffed it in my face.

  “That was the infamous Q, huh?” Eric smiled happily until I turned around, then his eyes widened.

  “Uh, Camille. Are you okay?” he asked.

  I shook my head no.

  “Do you have your gloves?”

  I looked down at my hands, and I shook my head again. In that moment, I didn’t care who saw my white hands.

  He wrapped his hands around mine, and all I could think about was how warm he was. I closed my eyes, and a tear rolled down my cheek. He took the pastry out of my mouth and put it on the table.

  “What’s going on?” he asked quietly.

  “I must have ‘gullible moron’ tattooed somewhere that only dudes can see,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s time to stop dealing with dudes and find a man.” He said it so smoothly I was shocked.

  I chuckled. “That was pretty slick, I’m impressed.”

  “You liked that? I’m happy I could make you smile.”

  “Thank you. To be honest, I’m not sure any man would be interested in a broken toy like me,” I said.

  He took his hands off mine, and I almost reached out for him; I didn’t want him to let me go. But my hands had gone back to a normal colour.

  He smiled at me, and I wanted to melt. “And who exactly are you, prophecy girl?”

  “I don’t know anymore.”

  He pushed a stray hair back from my face. We just stood and stared at each other in silence.

  If anyone saw us, they would probably be deeply confused.

  “Do you want your scone?” Eric asked me, ending our stare down.

  I looked at him, then down at the pastry on the table. “Scone? Out of all the ones I grab, it’s a damn scone?”

  He picked it up and examined it. “It looks like chocolate chip.”

  “But a scone? Q must have spiked that Frappuccino with something.”

  “Yes, back to Q. Interesting girl. I’ve heard the legend from Ted and Chris, but maybe you can explain why she called me Daddy Daryl on her way out.”

  I covered my mouth to try to contain my laughter. Q wasn’t playing when she said she would hit on Eric. I was just surprised by her aggressiveness.

  “I’m glad you find it funny, because it kind of scared me,” he said, and then he shook a little.

  He got a little closer to me, and I was able to smell him; warm and woodsy with a hint of spice, and cinnamon.

  I fucking love cinnamon.

  He handed me the scone. “We should get back to work?”

  “Should we? We could stay here a little longer. We could….” I got a little closer to him, and our eyes met, but then I stepped back. “You’re right. We should go back to work. We’ll talk more tonight, okay?”

  He smirked, and I saw a little glimmer in his eyes. “Absolutely. Do you want me to pick you up?”

  I turned and started walking away, calling over my shoulder, “Sure. I will let Millie know.”

  The rest of the day was a complete blur. Luckily, I had no clients. Not that I would have minded, but I was just not in the mindset at the moment.

  I did some more digging on The Matador, and I found some interesting historical stuff that I thought we could discuss on the ride tonight. Not a lot of information about what was going on currently, but I was sure we could piece things together.

  Goddamn I’m a nerd.

  I went home, showered, and was picking out some clothes when my phone rang. I picked it up without checking the call display.

  “Hello?” I said happily, waiting for Eric’s voice.

  “Cas,” I was genuinely shocked to hear Fray. “Cas, please don’t hang up.”

  I chuckled. “Hang up? Why would I hang up?”

  “I thought after what happened earlier with Nikki—”

  “What happened earlier with Nikki?” he said nothing, so I continued. “Oh, hey, no. It’s like I said before, you made no commitment to me. You have nothing to explain.”

  “But I—”

  “But what? I am not going to sleep with you, Noah. If this was some elaborate ruse to get me to do that, you can stop now.”

  He laughed. “Is that all you think of me? Did you forget I am a rock star now? I can literally have any girl I want. I don’t have to chase anyone.”

  “Truthfully? I think I’m a conquest. The one that got away. Once you have what you want, you won’t want to bother with the real me.” Whether anyone would want to bother with the real me was under question at the moment.

  He laughed again, and before he could speak, I said, “Where the fuck is Bliss, Noah?”

  He stopped laughing really fast. “Why would you think I know where she is? I only found out she went missing when you told me. That’s why I’m calling. So I can explain what happened today, and so we can make a plan to look for Bliss. She’s my friend, too, you know.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was nit picking, but I realized in that moment that my Spidey sense wasn’t tingling because of N
ikki.

  “I never said she was missing. I just said I hadn’t heard from her in a few days.” My voice was flat and monotone.

  “Whatever, you know what I meant. I assumed, okay? I didn’t think you would play that kind of game with me. I thought we had something real, Cas. When we were lying on my floor I thought we had a moment. Are you going to try to tell me now that we didn’t?”

  “Who’s Nikki?”

  Silence. Which was what I expected. Part of me knew that Noah was a good person. Honest. Real. But another part of me knew Fray—the rock star who could fuck any girl he wanted—wouldn’t go to so much trouble for no reason. For someone who could literally have any girl they wanted to put that much effort in...

  Did I want to dissect it further? If I pushed the issue then I could end up stuck with him, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that.

  “She helped us get our deal. She’s just a friend. That’s all. You can meet her. You’ll like her.”

  Jesse said that, too, once. About a girl who was broken, like him. He thought I could help her, like I had done for him so many times. He only made that mistake once, and never about the slut in white denim. Amanda. Whatever the fuck her name is. Maybe now I should call her the plague monkey. STD’s combined with supervamp virus equals?

  “Maybe one day. Look, I have to work tonight. We can talk more tomorrow,” I tried to sound forceful so the conversation would end.

  “Have dinner with me. I promise I will explain everything.”

  “I will call you tomorrow,” I hung up without agreeing to anything. I had no reason to and did not intend to at any point.

  I put on tight black pants, a black empire waist tank top that hung loose around my hips, and my usual boots. Then I did my hair and put on a little makeup. I thought I looked okay, but I didn’t look at myself in the mirror long enough to dwell on it. If I did, I would never leave the house.

  I put all my going out gear in my smaller purse, making sure it was easy for me to carry. If we ran into another problem like we did at Burnt Offerings, I didn’t want my bag to be an issue.

  When I got downstairs, there was a note from Ted saying he had a stakeout, and Cuddy and Poppy were nowhere to be found. So, I had a little something to eat while I waited for Eric.

  I sat at the kitchen table and ate a sandwich, staring at my marble white hands. I had to find a way to keep calm. If my emotions were that tied to my powers, I would need to learn to control them or I would give myself away. I had my gloves, but unless I wanted to pretend that I was a germophobe, someone would catch on eventually.

  A new le Fay with gloves on? Yep that’s not suspicious.

  My phone finally beeped, and it was Eric. I breathed a sigh of relief. He could help me get this situation with my hands under control.

  That would also give me an excuse to hold his hand again.

  Fuck, I needed help.

  “This is not what I expected,” I said when I got into Eric’s four door black VW.

  “Is that bad? Do you not want to ride with me?” he asked.

  “No, I do! I do! I was just expecting....”

  “What? A motorcycle? I wasn’t sure you would get on one.”

  I shrugged. “Good point. So, do you want to hear about what I found?”

  “Do you want to tell me about why your hands are white first or after?”

  I looked down at my hands, trying to play dumb. “Oh, that? Just more stupid boy shit. It’s a long story.”

  “You got your gloves?” I pulled them out of my purse and waved them at him. “Good. That is not a conversation we need to have in The Matador.”

  “Do you want to know what I found out about The Matador?” I asked as I put on the gloves.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, it was originally created by a family called the Castillo’s. They bought the building, remodelled it, and ran it as a supper club in the 40s. Then it seems it was a speakeasy, and many other things over the past X amount of years, but that is not the important part. What is important is that there is no evidence that it has changed owners. So, either it has been handed down in the Castillo family, or the original owner is still around.”

  “Which is still possible. They have only owned it for seventy-eight years.”

  I smiled. “And if the original owner bought it when he was twenty that would make him ninety-eight years old.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “That is interesting, and worth looking into. Maybe at the office when we’re supposed to be working?”

  “Or another time? I live with Ted still, but you could always come by? Or I could come to where you live?”

  He glanced at me briefly, being careful to keep his eyes on the road. I already felt like an idiot. He hadn’t responded, but he also didn’t immediately shoot me down.

  “Or not?” I felt my face turn red. “What should I expect when we get there?”

  “Have you ever seen the movie From Dusk Till Dawn?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I wish I wasn’t.”

  He started parallel parking, and I looked outside the window. We were on a normal looking residential street.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  He got out of the car and came around and opened my door. He took my hand as I got out and pulled me into his arms.

  “And for the record, anytime, anywhere,” he said, and we stared into each other’s eyes.

  I smiled, and he let me go.

  “I parked a few blocks away. It’s cheaper and safer.” He motioned for me to follow him, and we walked down the street.

  The Matador was an older looking building with a white sign that went vertically up the side, the name in black block letters. It had still maintained its 1940’s feel with its colour scheme and overall aesthetic. A larger dude sat on a stool by the front door, protected by a small awning overhead. Millie and Nya stood a few feet away from him.

  They smiled happily when they saw us.

  Seems they are warming up to Eric quite nicely.

  “How are you feeling, Camille?” Millie asked as she and Nya embraced me.

  “I’m okay. Happy that you guys are here. Not sure what to expect,” I replied.

  Nya smiled. “Oh, it would be wise to walk in with an open mind. This place is a little off the wall.”

  ”Great,” I said with as much sarcasm I could muster, which in that moment wasn’t much. Nervousness was currently tossing my other emotions around like a baseball player throwing in from the outfield.

  Inside was dark, like you would expect a bar to be, with lots of tables around and people drinking. It was bigger than it looked from the outside and had a stage at the far back with a group of belly dancers performing on it. One had a large snake around her neck as a decoration. There was something hypnotic about the snake dancer’s eyes, they glowed a greenish acidy yellow that immediately made me think of something poisonous. But she was beautiful, her long hair was draped around her like a sheet, and her lips were such a bright cheery red they looked candy apple coated.

  I grabbed onto Nya’s sleeve as we weaved our way through the crowd towards the rear. Millie had seen something at the bar, and she immediately started towards it. She was so laser focused, she weaved through the people and the tables like a mouse running a maze to get food at the end.

  In the very back corner, at the end of the bar, was a large booth with a round table where another poker game was going on.

  But that wasn’t what we were headed towards.

  I only caught a glimpse of the person at the far corner of the bar, close to the wall. When I looked, it was like they phased in and out. I got a flash of the person, and then they were gone, but sometimes she would go fuzzy like they were part of a blurry digital photo or badly recorded video.

  “A cloaking spell? Really?” Nya laughed.

  Millie moved quickly and with purpose, reaching across the bar and grabbing the person by the arm and yanking her off her stool.

  The fl
ashing stopped.

  The girl looked down at her arm, then her big blue eyes turned to us. They widened a bit when she saw me.

  “Hello, Lilly,” Millie said. “We need to talk.”

  6.

  Millie pulled Lilly by the arm to a small, deserted booth in an empty corner of the club. We followed along, piling in around Lilly. I pushed in to make sure I was right beside her, and she slid away to try to get closer to Millie.

  “What are you doing here, Lilly?” Millie probed the girl.

  “Getting drunk. What are you doing here?” Lilly mumbled.

  “Looking for you. We need some help.”

  “I can’t help you. I am not equipped to help you. I can’t do anything. Turns out everyone was right!”

  Nya snorted. “Feeling sorry for yourself, traitor?”

  “You have no idea, little girl. You have no fucking idea.” Lilly stared at the table.

  “Tell me about the virus, Lilly.” Millie pulled on Lilly’s arm to bring her back to reality.

  “What about it? You got it? Here,” she reached in her purse and handed Millie a bunch of vials. “Cure it. Then be more fucking careful.”

  “What is the point of it? What are they doing? How do we make the cure?”

  Lilly rolled her eyes. “You know, the stupid part is that if those fucking morons hadn’t shown up, all of this could have been avoided. If Nikki hadn’t found some idiots to find that last ingredient, it never would have happened. You can blame that stupid band.” She turned and looked at me. “The local one. You know the name. You probably think the lead singer is hot.”

  I swallowed hard. Oh. God. “Obsidian Butterfly?”

  “Yes! Those idiots brought Frankenstein his last ingredient, and then he created the virus. Fucking idiots. All of this to save their drummer to keep their deal.”

  “Can you help me find my friend?” I asked her, trying to fight back tears. My first interrogation, and I already wanted to cry. And puke too. This shit, about the band, could not be real.

  Grow a pair or go home.

  “Who’s your friend?” she asked.

  “Bliss Fiori.”

  She laughed. “You mean Tobias’s new pet? I can tell you where she is, but she’s gone. You can’t save her. You can’t save anyone from them. No one can. And it’s my fault.”