Before Cole could say another word to Stu, another voice came along to replace his.
“That you, Cole?” Paige asked.
“Yeah. I’m at O’Hare.”
“Great. Here’s the address to meet me. Grab a cab and tell them to step on it. I’ll pay for whatever you can’t cover.”
“All right.”
Paige rattled off an address and Cole repeated it back to her. She then asked, “You feeling all right?”
“I think so,” he replied with a grateful breath. “That plane ride was brutal. Maybe we could get something to eat.”
“Sounds good.”
“You like pizza?” After a few quiet seconds passed, Cole asked, “Would you rather have burgers? Hello?”
The line was dead. Even though the silence of empty air was unmistakable, Cole held the phone down so he could get a good look at the screen. “She hung up on me,” he muttered. Rather than try to convince himself the state-of-the-art satellite connection had failed, he put the phone in his pocket and looked for a ride.
The cab at the front of the line was driven by a bald man in his early fifties chomping on a pen cap. “Help ya with that bag?” he grunted as he jumped from the sputtering car.
“As if your tip depended on it,” Cole replied.
The cabbie took that comment as it was intended and started laughing. “What’s in there? A bomb?”
Cole chuckled. “No. Just some—”
“It goes in the trunk.”
The cabbie squinted at the security tags stuck to the bag and shut the trunk tightly.
He lightened up a bit once he was back behind the wheel with his backside pressed securely against his beaded seat cover. “Where you headed?” he asked.
Cole leaned forward and grunted as some of the pain from his ribs and back seeped through his body. After reciting the address he’d been given, he added, “There’s a big tip in store if you get me there real qui—”
The cab lurched forward and squealed away from the front of the line with enough force to push Cole into the trunk. The springs beneath him felt poised to snap through a thin layer of upholstery that felt more like wadded newspapers. Horns blared from his left and the whistle of the cop directing the cabs sounded to his right. Braking and slamming on the gas a few more times amid a flurry of obscenities, the cabbie finally made it to smoother waters.
Glancing into the rearview mirror, he asked, “That address is in Cicero, ain’t it?”
“Sure,” Cole replied, even though he had no clue.
“Your lucky day, my friend. I grew up not too far from there.”
It did Cole plenty of good just to get some concrete under his feet and see some familiar buildings around him. He might not have been able to rattle off business names and addresses, but the city had a feel to it that was just…Chicago. Every time he visited the place, he’d sworn to come back when he had more time to look around. During one of the Digital Dreamers gaming tournaments that were held in Aurora, he’d gone to Chicago and had a hot dog that made him want to pack his things and move there. Right now, the simple fact that Chicago wasn’t Canada was more than enough to give the city a few stars in his personal rating.
Cole leaned back and pulled in a lungful of air that was saturated with too much freshener and a hint of burnt exhaust from the heater. Chicago rolled past his window in an endless stream of lights, dirty buildings, and illuminated billboards. The sun had been setting when his plane was landing, so it was completely dark by now. A commercial for an upcoming festival by Lake Michigan sounded through the cab’s speakers, and the cabbie kept right on chatting throughout the entire duration of the ride.
“You live here or you just visiting?” the cabbie asked as he tapped the brakes.
“Visiting.”
“Well, you should have a great time while you’re in town.” With that, he brought the cab to a stop and pressed a button on his meter. “You want help with that luggage?”
“We’re here already?”
“I told ya I’d get you here fast, didn’t I?”
“I guess I was just enjoying the ride.” Cole got out as the cabbie walked around to the trunk. Although he didn’t know what to expect, he hadn’t been expecting to be taken to a restaurant that was already closed up for the night. “You sure this is the right place?”
Abruptly, the cabbie lost his smirk and rushed over to his side. “That’s the address you gave me!” He closed his eyes, moved his lips as he grumbled to himself, and finally let out a breath. “This is the place,” he said defensively.
Cole looked at what was painted on the white walls near a set of thick, wooden front doors. There had once been a name written over the door, but all that was left was enough lettering to spell out RASA HILL. Even though the numbers beside the door matched the ones in his head, he dug in his pocket for his phone anyway. “Stay here,” he said to the cabbie. “Let me just double-check something.”
He flipped open the satellite phone and started to dial MEG’s number. Before he could finish, the screech of rusted hinges caught his ear. He turned toward that sound and saw the front door of the restaurant being opened by a short brunette.
“No need to waste your minutes,” she said while holding the heavy door open. Her faded jeans, black shirt, and old tennis shoes were obviously more comfortable than fashionable, but didn’t take away from the her trim, athletic figure. The hair pulled behind her head had a tussled look about it even though most of it was corralled by a couple of elastic ties. Despite the downward curve of her lips, her face retained an undeniable attractiveness. Her nose was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken once or twice in the past, but even that didn’t take anything away from her. She looked at him and the cabbie with an air of authority that rolled off her like smoke.
“You must be Cole,” she said.
He nodded a bit too much in a weak attempt to mask the fact that he’d been staring at her. The cabbie, on the other hand, made no such attempt.
“I’m Cole, all right.” Looking to the cabbie, he added, “This must be the right place after all.”
“It sure the hell is,” the cab driver said. “I was just about to ask if I could stay myself.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the brunette said as she stepped forward to hand the cabbie some money. Despite the fact that she was several inches shorter than the older man, she dismissed him as if he was a schoolboy. “Here you go.”
“Thanks a lot, ma’am. I’ll unload this bag and carry it inside for ya.”
“I think we can manage just fine.”
“I lugged this stuff all over the airport. Another few feet won’t hurt,” Cole said as he grabbed his duffel bag from the open trunk and sucked in a pained breath. “Actually, it may hurt just a little.”
The brunette gave him a quick smile, took the duffel in one hand and walked into the restaurant. Cole looked toward the cabbie just in time to see the driver’s door close and the cab drive away.
The brunette waited at the door for him and held it open so Cole could walk inside. “I’m Paige Strobel, by the way. But I guess you already figured that out by now.”
“Hello, Paige. I’m the guy with bruised ribs who dragged his ass across the continent to pay you a visit as a courtesy to your friends.”
Without moving from her spot by the door, Paige added, “And I’m the woman with the dead friends who arranged to have you brought all the way out here.”
“Ouch. Guess I had that coming. Sorry about the attitude. It’s been a long trip.”
“Don’t feel too bad,” she said as she shut and locked the door once he was inside. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I’ve been just settling in here, so there’s a lot on my plate too. Make yourself comfortable, and you’ll just have to excuse the mess.”
The place was a restaurant, but looked as if it had been condemned for a year or more. Some of the tables were in place and most of the lights worked, but there was a layer of dust on just about everything.
When he looked a little closer at the floor, Cole could see a path through the dust that led from the front door to the kitchen.
Seeing Paige was about to disappear through the kitchen door, he realized he was being brushed aside just like the cabbie had been a minute ago. More than that, he felt like an idiot for going through so much bullshit to make such a tedious trip in the first place. He rushed to catch up to her, but before he could, the door was slammed almost directly into his face. “Hey!” he shouted as he pushed it open the door and stomped into the next room. “I’ve come a long way and I think I deserve some explanations! Who the hell are you?”
Paige stood with her back to him in a large, clean kitchen. She was behind a counter, so he could only see her from the waist up. When she turned around, she looked at him with sharp eyes that weren’t exactly cold, but were a long way from warm. In her hand was a small syringe. “Were you hurt in the attack?” she asked.
The concern in her voice was genuine, which shifted Cole’s focus away from his anger. He reflexively reached for his ribs and took a shallow breath, but only got a slight pinch in return. “It could have been worse. I was wearing a lot of layers when I got knocked around. Brad and Gerald drew that thing away from me before it could…” That night at the cabin screamed back into his thoughts, and he did his best to shove those memories back into the spot they’d been hiding.
“So you’re feeling all right?”
“Yeah. More or less. I mean, I might have broken something, but it’s better now.”
Paige nodded and raised an eyebrow to put the icing upon a cute, sympathetic frown. “Or maybe you weren’t hurt as badly as it seemed at the time.”
“No. I was hurt. I was slammed up against a freakin’ wall!”
Keeping her eyes locked upon him, Paige walked around the counter. Until that moment, Cole could say that he’d rarely ever seen a woman saunter. There was no mistaking it this time, however. Whether she meant to do it or not, Paige’s walk was most definitely a saunter. Considering the slow shifting of her hips and the grip her eyes had upon him, he discovered he liked sauntering very much.
Once she got within arm’s reach of him, she snapped out one hand to flick her fingers against his ribs.
“What the hell?” he said as he was abruptly pulled from his happy place.
“If your ribs were broken, you’d be in tears right now. Or close to it, anyway. Seems like you’re just bruised up. If you’re still hurting, though,” she added while holding up the syringe, “I can help.”
“You can help, huh? Oh no. I’m not letting you give me any drugs.”
Paige held out the syringe to show that it was only slightly bigger than the pencils handed out at miniature golf courses. “If you must know, it’s a vitamin serum,” she explained. “It’ll make it a whole lot easier to breathe and it might even give you a bit more energy after all the traveling you’ve done.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
“I am. Are you going to let me give you this or not? I promise you’ll feel better.” When she saw the uncertainty in his eyes, she added, “It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done so far.”
Cole placed his hands on the cool metallic surface of the countertop and let his head hang down. “If I can have some ice water, that would be just fine.”
The moment those words were out of his mouth, Paige leaned forward and slapped her hand down on top of his. She moved so quickly that he couldn’t even think about reacting before she dropped her other hand and stuck the needle into his arm.
“Fuck!” he said reflexively.
She pushed down on the little plunger and then removed the syringe. “Don’t be such a baby. It’s already over.”
“I’m not being a baby.”
“Yes you are. These are the same needles I use to give insulin to my diabetic cat, and you’re pitching a bigger fit than he ever did.”
Cole stared her dead in the eyes and lowered his voice to an intense growl. “What did you put in me?”
Rather than reply, she placed the needle on the counter, showed him her empty hands, then jabbed him in the ribs.
Cole tensed and let out the first half of a pained scream. The second half didn’t come out because no pain followed the punch. Looking down at himself, he patted his chest and tentatively pressed down on what had so recently been the sore spots. “What in the hell?” he asked while patting his torso harder and harder. “What the hell?”
“You swear a lot, you know that?”
“Yeah? Well here’s some more for ya. What the fuck is going on here?”
Paige looked at him with the slightest trace of sympathy in her eyes. “Would you like something other than water to drink?” she asked through her laughter.
“I could use a beer.”
“How about some whiskey?”
“Even better.”
Walking farther into the kitchen, she made her way to a large cabinet. It wasn’t the saunter she’d used before, but her body naturally moved well enough to hold Cole’s attention. She reached inside the cabinet and came out with a bottle in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. After setting the bottle down on the middle of the counter next to the empty syringe, she placed one glass in front of her and the other in front of him.
“If you’d like to sit down at one of the tables in the next room, we can talk like civilized people,” she said.
“I just hope you don’t spike my drink or force me to fly to another part of the country in some milk crate of an airplane.”
“Or,” Paige added in a cool, level tone, “you could always leave.”
“Just walk out of here and try to buy a cheap ticket to Seattle with whatever’s left in my wallet, huh? I don’t even have my own luggage. I’ve been wearing your friend’s clothes since I bolted from that cabin.” Suddenly he winced, and added, “I’m sorry. I just meant that…”
“I know what you’re saying,” Paige said with a sigh. “I could arrange for another plane ticket.”
Cole nodded while she filled his glass with whiskey. As much as he wanted to down the liquor, he waited for her to sip from her own glass first. Only then did he allow himself to drink. He wasn’t normally a whiskey sort of guy, but the stuff did a hell of a good job loosening the knot that had been tied in his chest.
“You’re dying to ask questions. Where do you want to start?” Paige asked.
“What did you inject me with?”
“Vitamins…mostly. Also,” she added, “it was an immunization. After getting into a fight with the thing in that cabin, there was a chance of you…catching something.”
Cole’s eyes widened and he straightened up. “Like a disease?”
“Sort of.”
“How will I know if I have it or not?”
“Since you haven’t keeled over yet, I’d say you should be fine. Apparently, that thing didn’t tear you up too badly or draw too much blood.”
“I could’ve told you that much,” he grumbled.
Paige shrugged and topped off their drinks. “Better safe than sorry. Do you have another question?”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Paige Strobel, just like I told you before. Gerald and I worked together for a while. In fact, he was supposed to be the one moving into this place instead of me.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
Paige kept her eyes down. She reached for the whiskey, but didn’t pick it up. “That’s a little harder to explain.”
“What about Brad? Was he in the same line of work?”
She nodded. “All three of us work for the same cause.”
“Oh Lord,” Cole moaned, “Is this a religious thing? I was going to guess a drug ring, with all the syringes and smuggling contacts, but…I honestly don’t know which would be worse at this point.”
“It’s not either of those. Why don’t I approach this another way?” Paige placed her hands flat on the counter, straightened her arms and then sho
ok her head as if silently agreeing to an unpopular decision. Finally, she asked, “Why did you come here?”
The scowl on Cole’s face dissolved the moment he heard that question. He let out a breath and then looked up to watch Paige’s face as he said, “Gerald’s dead. So is Brad. Gerald wanted me to come here and tell you about what happened personally, before you got the news from…well…I guess you may have already talked to the cops since it took so damn long for me to get here.”
After a brief pause, Paige said, “Go on.”
He recounted what had brought him to Canada, and Paige listened to every word. When he got to the part of his story involving that night at the cabin, he reflexively picked up his shot glass.
“I don’t know what it was,” he said. “At first I thought it was a bear, then I thought it was a wolf. But it wasn’t any of those things. It was huge. I’ve never even heard of anything like it. One guy shot it, but that didn’t do anything. Gerald and Brad tried to kill it. They lasted longer than most anyone, but I guess that thing finally got to them too.”
“You guess?”
“I was knocked around pretty good,” he sighed. “I woke up the next morning. There was blood everywhere. Brad was dead, but Gerald was outside. He was hurt really bad.”
He paused to see if he needed to give her a moment before continuing. Paige was listening intently, so he went on.
“Gerald told me to call you. He said that I should come to see you in person to tell you what happened. He also told me to tell you that Brad was killed fighting a Full Blood. Does that mean anything to you?”
Paige kept staring straight at him, then finally looked away and nodded.
“He gave me a card and I called the number using his phone. You must know the rest.”
“How was he in the end?” she asked.
Cole felt as if his words were anchored down so heavily that it took extra effort to pull them up. “I don’t think he was in much pain. It was so cold—”
“That’s not what I mean,” she snapped. “Did he seem strange? Did he look strange?”
“Strange?”
Paige scraped at the base of her throat and said, “Black marks here. Maybe they looked like ink?”
Skinners: Blood Blade Page 9