Rico’s eyes were fixed upon the front of the bar and he made it all the way to the entrance without noticing the place was closed. “Or it could be those motherfucking Mud People,” he snarled while holstering the .45 so he could pull at the door. “They found him once and they must have found him again. It’s not like Ned tried to shake up his routine or anything. He must come here three times a week. I told him not to be so goddamn predictable, but did he listen? Fucking cops probably wrote this place off without even bothering to look for anything.”
Paige tipped her head back and put a drop into each eye from the bottle she’d taken from Ned’s. “Before you get too worked up, let’s see what we can find in here.”
There wasn’t much to see from the parking lot. Most of the windows were covered by shades yellowed from age and overexposure to daylight, but a few were uncovered. Looking in at the bar through one of them, Rico didn’t see anything but shabby furniture and old arcade cabinets.
“Ned was here,” she said as she studied the waves of Skinner scent drifting within the bar. “From what I can see, there were no Nymar.”
“Can you be sure about that?”
“No.”
“Then keep lookin’.”
After letting the drops soak in, Paige picked up even more of the Skinner scent within the place. “I think there may have been another Skinner in there with him.”
“What makes you say that?”
She looked at the scent left behind by herself and Rico and compared it to the traces inside. “Because Ned doesn’t move around enough to lay down that much scent. Even if he did laps inside of that place, his scent would have had to dissipate by now, right?”
“You’re the one with the funky vision,” Rico grumbled.
Compared to the fresher scents they had left, the trails drifting inside the bar were like wisps of stubborn cigar smoke. The longer she stared through the window, the more wisps she picked up. “Looks like it’s concentrated at the bar. There’s so much. My gut’s telling me there’s too much in there to have been left by just one of us. Did anyone else come here?”
“Any other Skinners? Not that I know of.” Rico’s expression took on a cold, steely edge. “Hasta be Lancroft. That old fuck got to Ned.”
Paige’s phone rang. When she answered, Cole immediately told her, “It’s him.”
“You saw the body?”
“I saw a picture of it. I met with Detective Shin. She had a picture on her laptop, and yeah,” he repeated with a sigh, “it’s Ned all right.”
“Are you alone?”
“Nope,” Cole replied in a forced conversational tone.
“What do the cops know about how he was killed?”
“The bar was robbed. They found the owner with a broken neck and Ned’s throat was cut. There wasn’t much by way of security at that place, so they’re going with the robbery.”
“Then meet us at The Emerald. You remember the address?”
“I got it.”
“Good. Any problems, give me a call.” She snapped the phone shut and turned on her heels so she could walk up the sidewalk to Rico. The big man got some amused looks from passersby, thanks to his deathly stare and patchwork leather jacket, but he wasn’t concerned with any of that. He clenched a cigarette between his teeth and expelled smoke as if trying to spit it into the world’s face.
“You wanna hear something stupid?” he asked.
“I’ve spent enough time with Cole to make me immune to stupid.”
Rico’s eyebrows flicked up as one choppy laugh pushed the rest of the smoke out of his throat. “Damn! And here I thought you liked the guy.”
She lowered her head and stuffed her hands into her pockets while walking away.
“I knew it,” Rico grumbled as he fell into step beside her. “So have you two…?”
“I thought you had something stupid to tell me.”
He watched her for another second, took the cigarette from his mouth and said, “I actually thought Ned was safe. Not like I didn’t think anything would ever happen to him, but just that so much shit already has. He was the only one to walk out of Miami after all those other Skinners got ripped to shit. We thought we lost him in the Everglades while he was off chasing Lizard Men.”
“Squamatosapiens,” Paige corrected. “The proper term is Squamatosapiens.”
“Right. Then he loses an eye and comes here to watch over an empty city. The old buzzard could handle himself, but he also did a damn good job of laying low. He dealt with the troublemakers and kept everything in line. I mean, I really thought he was safe.”
“You’re right. That is stupid.”
By the time Cole arrived at The Emerald, the new coat of foul-smelling varnish on his weapon had dried and a citation from the St. Louis Police Department was in the glove compartment. Daniels’s SUV was already in the parking lot, and Rico and Paige were leaning against it. “With all the shit going on around here,” Cole fumed after climbing out of the Cav, “the cops at that station bust me for not being roadworthy! What the hell does that even mean?”
“It probably means we should get those windows replaced,” Paige said.
“We should replace the whole car.”
“Do you know how long it takes to get all the secret compartments in the trunk, doors, and glove compartment just right?”
The Emerald wasn’t a purple A-frame, but according to the green neon sign out front, it did have Amateur Night every Wednesday. The sun was still a few notches above the horizon, giving the large one-story building a washed-out quality. A few other cars were in the lot, clustered directly in front of the entrance and Mötley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” was just loud enough to make it through the walls.
Rico walked around to the back of the SUV with his phone pressed against his ear. “Yeah, it’s me. We’re here. Are you ready for us?” While he listened to the response, he pulled the rear hatch open to expose Daniels to the light. Although the Nymar wasn’t about to burst into flames, he didn’t seem happy about the interruption as he fidgeted with several boxes of supplies.
“Well how much longer?” Rico growled into his phone. “Fine, we’ll be right in…What? Why not? It’s hot out here!” He sighed, gritted his teeth and flipped the phone shut with almost enough force to crush it. “We’re waiting out here until the girls are ready for us. Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Screw that,” Paige snapped as she headed for the main entrance.
Rico grabbed her arm and absorbed the hooking punch to his shoulder that followed. “Tristan’s coming out here to talk to us, Paige. If you can’t be civil, then keep your damn mouth shut for a change. I put too much hard work into this for you to trash it now.”
“What’s your hard work consisted of?” she asked. “Lap dances with one girl compared to two?”
“There was lap dancing involved, but not how you think. Do you know why all of these purple A-frame strip clubs have buffets?”
“Who cares?”
“To keep horny guys from leaving long enough to get a burger?” Cole offered.
“Close,” Rico told him. “It’s because their customers don’t want to leave. Not even long enough to eat. Turns out nymphs are like muses. They get their power from being worshipped. Suck it right out of the air like a Nymar sucks blood from a vein. That’s where the lap dancing comes in. One on one contact like that, staring right into someone’s eyes, any one of these ladies can charge ten batteries in that many seconds.”
“Ladies, huh?” Paige snorted. “Did they get their hooks into you after one too many freebies?”
Rico took an even sharper tone when he said, “Hey. They haven’t done any harm to anyone. A bunch of them have already been taken and may be killed at any second by that Lancroft asshole. Tristan and the others are willing to put their own necks as well as the necks of their sisters on the line to help us. Since they’ve offered to repay our help on a long-term basis, you should show some respect.”
“You’re
right,” she admitted. “I’ll keep the attitude in check.”
“Good, because Ned wouldn’t want us to screw this up. It may be too late to save him, but we can make him proud of us wherever the hell he is. Plus you’re really going to like the deal I’m working on.”
“All right,” Daniels said from the back of the SUV. “I’m all set.” He climbed down from the vehicle, picked up a thin vial of black liquid and allowed his jaw to hang down far enough for his drooping fang to slip all the way out of its casing in his gums. When Cole followed Daniels’s line of sight to the vision strutting toward them, it was easy to figure out what had stymied the Nymar.
Tristan rushed across the parking lot wrapped in a tan robe that covered her from ankle to neck. Although she held it shut well enough to keep from stopping traffic, a breeze flipped it open to show that all she had on beneath it was a collection of multicolored veils that stuck to her like pastel smoke. Quick to pull the robe shut again, she said, “We’re almost ready for you. Since we’re not in a proper temple, we’ve had to gather a lot more energy than normal.”
Cole felt a tightness in his chest that he hadn’t experienced since the first time he followed Paige on a hunt. “Are we really doing this?” he asked. “This is teleportation. We could never be seen again. We could get some kind of exotic disease. Hell, we could freaking melt for all we know!”
Rubbing Cole’s face, Tristan purred, “You’re cute. Why don’t you bring your things and come with me? We’ll talk along the way.”
As Rico walked with him to an unmarked side entrance, he slapped Cole on the shoulder and said, “Don’t get worked up. I checked it out already. Well, as good as I could check it without actually trying it. The theory sounds pretty solid.”
If Daniels’s loud muttering wasn’t enough to get his displeasure across, he made sure to slam his cases shut as loudly as possible before hauling them out of the SUV. Cole went to the Cav and stuck his head in through the broken passenger window so he could pull the GPS unit from the bracket mounted to the dash and stick it in his pocket. Seeing the impatience scrawled across Paige’s face, he told her, “This thing’s worth more than the damn car.”
The club’s side door opened into a storeroom that was filled with cases of beer, empty kegs, stacks of coasters and bundles of napkins. Tristan walked through another door that led to the narrow space behind the bar, rubbed the tender’s shoulder and skirted the edge of the main room.
It was a short walk that allowed the Skinners to sneak in without attracting much notice. Then again, considering what was going on in the spotlights, a herd of elephants could have ambled through without being noticed. Two large stages were bathed in pulsing light. Shae was on the first one, crawling up to a row of gray-haired gentlemen standing with dollars in their hands. Her miraculously perky body was on display thanks to a pair of shorts that could have easily passed for a rubber band and a wet T-shirt plastered to her breasts. Every move she made was enhanced by a spray of water droplets, and when she brushed them off her skin, everyone in the club could feel it.
Kate was on stage number two in a one-piece swimsuit made of two strips of material that crossed her front and back to form a V on either side of her body. Although Cole could feel her touch running down his stomach, he decided the real magic trick was how she managed to keep the straps of her suit in place.
The free show was over in a matter of seconds as the Skinners were led into another storeroom. This one had been emptied of clutter and supplies so the walls and floor could be marked with the same swirling symbols as the ones in the purple A-frame. As with the previous temple, a beaded curtain hung from the ceiling to separate the front half from the back. “These look kinda like hieroglyphics,” Cole said as he extended a hand to touch some of the symbols. “But they don’t seem to have a beginning or an end. I can’t even tell if one leads into another.”
“That’s the language of the dance,” Tristan said. Looking to Paige, she added, “And I’m not trying to be poetic. That’s truly what it is. My sisters and I speak through our bodies. Our gifts flow through our movements. These symbols date back to a time before humans decided to write in straight lines from one side to another. I explained it all to Terrance.”
Cole started to say something, but Rico beat him to the punch. “It’s still Rico to you, boy.”
Holding up his hands, Cole was more than happy to concede the point.
“Most of our gifts use energy that we extract from a person’s spirit,” Tristan explained. “And most of our talents aren’t much use to anyone but our kind. There are some gifts, however, that have made my sisters and I very sought after throughout the years. We are what you might call magical beings.”
“Oh, Christ,” Paige groaned. “Here we go.”
“See!” Rico said as he snapped his fingers. “I told you magic was a real thing! I’ve been telling this one for years, but she never listens.”
Paige stepped through the beads and pivoted on the balls of her feet as a crackling force tugged at her hair. “Magic is what people call something they can’t explain. It’s a term used for something that can’t be explained. Our weapons, everything we do, and all the things we fight, have an explanation. There is no magic. Even these beads have an explanation. What are they made from?”
“Ceramic,” Tristan replied. “Some are glass and some are metal.”
“Forged through a specific process?”
“Yes.”
“There you go, Rico.” Paige nodded to Tristan and said, “Please continue.”
“The magical forces my sisters and I produce allow us to create a bridge from one temple to another. With enough power, we can create a passage using only one temple, but it’s not very stable.”
“So that’s why Lancroft took those other nymphs?” Cole asked.
Rico stood with his back to a wall, eyeing the beads as if he was ready to charge through them no matter where they led. “If that asshole is spreading Pestilence around, I can’t think of a better method. He could just teleport it into the sky or into the water. Ain’t that right?”
Lowering her head, Tristan pulled in a deep breath and let it out while the lids slowly fell down over her eyes. “It shames me to think of it, but I suppose so. With all the other Dryads he’s been collecting, he must be doing…something else with them.”
“Dryads?”
“It’s the proper name for our kind, Cole. We’re more than the nymphs of human legend. Actually we’re more like several of your legends combined.”
Tensing up even more, Paige asked, “So can you send us to Lancroft or not?”
“You must understand. The moment we send you anywhere or do anything to put you onto this man’s trail, my sisters’ lives are in jeopardy.”
“They’re in jeopardy now,” Rico told her.
Slowly, Tristan nodded. “You promise you’ll help them?”
Paige stepped in front of her and held onto both of Tristan’s hands. Looking her directly in the eyes, she said, “There could be thousands of lives at stake if Pestilence isn’t stopped. That’s our first priority.”
“Pestilence may not be anything you can stop. It could be something no human can stop. Ancient Mayan mythology tells of the Mud People and Wood People. Legends say the gods made several attempts at creating man before they got it right. Among the failures were people made of mud, who were too soft, and people made of wood, who were too brittle. Those beings were discarded once the gods settled on flesh and bone as their materials of choice.”
“Ah,” Paige sighed. “That makes sense.”
But Tristan wasn’t put off by Paige’s sarcasm. “A lot of mythology and folklore came about as people’s way of explaining their world, so this legend could very well have been inspired by a jungle tribe stricken with an early form of Mud Flu. At the very least, that means Pestilence has been around for a very long time. Something that old rarely dies without a fight.”
“We’re ready for a fight,” Paige assured
her. “And I swear to you, if there’s any way for us to find those other women and free them, any way at all, we’ll do it. That may not be exactly what you want to hear, but we’re the only ones who stand a chance against this guy.”
The Dryad nodded again. This time there was conviction in the gesture instead of merely resignation. “You’ve already proven to be good to your word.” Pulling in a deep breath, Tristan straightened her back and lifted her chin. While she hadn’t been slouching before, she seemed to have cast aside her other posture like a dirty coat. Her beauty remained, but there was now something else in her aura. Something regal. “It takes a lot of energy to send a human from one temple to another,” she said. “Even more is needed to make a bridge without an active temple on either end. Since we’ve gotten set up here, we’ve been dancing for days and have drawn quite a crowd.”
“This room isn’t exactly as nice as the other one,” Paige said.
“Our new hosts have been accommodating, but we’ll return to Christov when he’s back on his feet again. Let me spread the word for my sisters to prepare for your trip.” Striding past the spot where Daniels had set down all of his cases, but stopping with her hand on the door, Tristan said, “There’s something else you need to know about the man you’re after.”
“Now’s the time to tell us,” Rico said.
“When he first arrived, he wasn’t fully shielded by the Mind Singer. Being in our temple allowed us to see more of him than he would have shown. He’s more than a Skinner. He is a torturer. He is a murderer. And he is more than three hundred years old.”
Chapter 24
It didn’t take long for Daniels to get his cases open and prepare the equipment. Grinning at Cole in a way that made him look more like a vampire than usual, he said, “Roll up your sleeve, tough guy. Time to get inked.”
“Wh-What?” Cole sputtered. Hearing the grating whine of the electric tattooing machine in Daniels’s hand didn’t calm him down in the slightest. While it had been modified for portable use and fitted with tubes of ink that slipped in and out like smaller versions of printer cartridges, the equipment still sounded like something from a sadistic dentist’s wet dream. “Screw that! No offense, but one backfire with that stuff is enough, don’t ya think?”
Teeth of Beasts (Skinners) Page 31