I switched my gaze over to Rush. He was sitting with his hands folded in his lap while I talked to Jude.
“You need to leave,” I said. “For all I know, the person who took my sister could be watching this place as we speak. And if Torra’s kidnapper knows about the Council, he probably knows that you are the man in charge.”
Rush scooted forward and turned his body towards me. “I know what the note says, Kristina. And I can assure you that the Council and I consider your sister’s safety our number one priority.”
Bull. My sister was not the Council’s number one priority. Those jerks only cared about two things—collecting Creators and accumulating money—which, if you thought about it, were pretty much one and the same. A strong, well-trained Creator could bring in millions for a single awakening. Rich people lined up around the Center’s block for a chance at eternal beauty and immortality. That’s why, of the slim few of us that existed, we were the most coveted of all the three kinds of necromancers.
First, there were the harkers. They could communicate with spirits by using sound alone. They couldn’t see a ghost or create a vampire. Second, there were beholders, who could not only hear spirits, but could see them, as well. Third, there was my kind of necromancer, a Creator. Creators were the highest class of necros, also the strongest. We could see and hear spirits, just like the other two kinds of necros, but we also had the ability to raise the dead. And I am not referring to the zombie, infected and gross, kind of dead. No, we didn’t create zombies. Creators had the unique ability to awaken a corpse and subsequently turn it into a vampire.
With that gift, you could imagine how lucrative a business peddling immortality to wealthy mortals could be. Because I was privy to the Council’s possible motives, I couldn’t trust them to do the right thing for my sister. It would be too much of a temptation for them. My sister’s kidnapping could put me under their thumbs.
Not if I had anything to say about it, I thought. I would make finding Torra my sole responsibility.
“You heard me. Leave. I wasn’t fooling around. Not with the life of my sister.
Rush stood. “I know that you have no reason to trust me,” he said, taking out a card from his wallet. He bent over and set the business card with his contact information on the coffee table. “Believe it or not, I really do care about what happens to your sister.” He tapped the card twice before standing straight. “That’s my personal number. Call me if you need anything.”
My face remained neutral. “Thanks for the offer. But I can manage on my own.”
“Your sister disappeared from the Center. I need to know how someone managed to do that.” He picked up the card and walked it over to me. Holding it out, he said, “So if it’s all the same, I’d appreciate a call if you stumble upon anything that may be important. The more people looking for your sister, the better.”
My throat went dry. His eyes burned a fire through me as he spoke. That kind of carnal look was not an appropriate one between two people whom were only acquaintances. He looked at me like he had already sampled my goods and was in dire need of more. I swallowed my increasing hunger over the lump in my throat and grabbed his card.
“I will call you if anything happens. Thanks,” I said coolly, even though cool, calm, and collected was the exact opposite of how Rush made me feel.
His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds longer before he turned to leave. He spun around and said, “I’m sorry about what happened to Torrance. If anyone can bring her home safe, it’s you.” And with those words, Rush walked out the door.
“That guy is a nutcase,” Jude announced, floating up next to me.
“Uh, yeah…sure.”
Chapter Three
I drove away from Kristina’s house with a bad feeling in my gut.
“Hurry up and move it, asshole!” I yelled out my window.
I was stuck at a green light behind a piece of shit car that was regurgitating black smoke. The douche-bag driving it had his head out the window, ogling a blond woman walking down the street in a tight micro-mini skirt. The revealing clothes and side smile she threw at her gawker screamed, I have issues and need attention. She did nothing for me. I liked women who relied on their wit and personal charm, and could hold their own in any situation. Kristina Chase immediately popped to mind.
“Screw you, fuck face!” the man yelled back, flipping me off.
After the guy finally drove forward, I pushed down on the pedal and took off towards my office. The Center was already closed for the day, but I wanted to go back over the crime scene one more time to make sure nothing had been overlooked.
I squeezed the steering wheel and wished like hell I could wrench it around and head back to Kristina’s house. It wasn’t right for her to face that damn kidnapper alone. I ran a hand over my chin. How can I help her without putting Torrance in danger? I thought about that long and hard during the remainder of my drive.
I arrived at the Necro Center twenty minutes later and pulled into my parking spot. I still hadn’t figured out a decent plan to get my ass back into Kristina’s house so I could protect her. I had no idea why I had such an overwhelming need to make sure nothing happened to her, but I did, and I wasn’t about to give up. I would settle for doing all I could on the sidelines until I came up with something brilliant, or until I got tired of her stubbornness and showed back up at her door, regardless of what she thought.
The tall, glass building was almost dark as I approached. The only light shone from the front lobby. Those lights remained on at all times. I took my keys from my pocket and flipped through until I found the master key. I pushed it in the slot and unlocked the double doors.
I could see the guard through the glass as I pushed the door. He jumped up, grabbing the side of his hip, ready to draw on me. I couldn’t help laughing. The old man had been working for the company all his adult life, and in all that time, no one had ever heard one complaint from him.
He had a wife that passed away a few years back, and had a couple of kids grown and employed by the Council. It was common practice for necromancers to keep in their employ an entire family line. It was easier to hide our magical race from humans that way. His bloodline had worked for my family, the Davises, for the past three centuries, and not once were any of the Center’s secrets betrayed by a Duncan.
“It’s just me, Conrad, don’t shoot.”
Conrad Duncan squinted behind a pair of thick glasses. His salt and pepper head pushed forward, like that could help him see me more clearly.
“What’s got you out so late, young man?”
“There was a kidnapping today. One of our own was taken, so I’m snooping around, hoping something will fall into my lap.”
I spoke candidly with Conrad. There was no reason for pretenses with him.
“I did hear something or other about that. Such a shame. I really like that young lass.”
Conrad adjusted his belt; the action tugged his pants up and crinkled his shirt. Before his wife, Pamela, died of natural causes, God rest her soul, Conrad’s skin had been more filled out, his belly more plump. I made a mental note to call one of his three children to keep better tabs on the old guy and make sure he was eating regularly.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Conrad asked.
He ambled back over to his desk and sat down. I followed, stopping on the other side of the counter in front of him.
“If you can run through the surveillance footage for today and the past few days, I would really appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Davis. Is there anything in particular I should keep an eye out for?”
“Look for anything out of the ordinary. Take note of any unscheduled deliveries or suspicious behavior from our staff and Council members. Also, take snap shots of any new faces you may come across.”
“Do you mind if I call in Duska to help pore over all the footage? She has an eagle eye for these things. Besides, she just called me and she’s bored.”
Du
ska was Conrad’s granddaughter. She was also a hell on wheels spitfire that had a severe problem with authority, but even so, you couldn’t find a more devoted and loyal servant.
“Sure, call her up. Just make sure she keeps her attitude in check when my sister, Kissa, arrives in a few hours.”
For some reason, those two were like oil and water. Every time they were in the same room together, you could slice the tension between them with a knife. Everyone was waiting for the day they squared off. I was certain that a loss of life or limb would be the consequence if a battle between those two she-devils ever transpired.
Conrad chuckled. “Will do. I’ll give Duska a call now.”
~~~
Two hours later, and not a single new piece of evidence was found at the scene of the crime. I had decided to call it a night and drive home.
Standing in the elevator of my downtown, Atlantic City high-rise apartment building, I was drained as hell. My hands were shoved in my pants pockets, my head down, as I rode the gilded box of gold and mirrors to the top floor.
I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth; everything that surrounded me was opulent. All the way down to my three-thousand-dollar shoes and my ten-thousand-dollar suits, and of course, the penthouse suite I lived in. The suite was large and stretched to span across the top floor of the building, and even though it was grandly furnished, it felt empty.
Lifting my head, I looked at my reflection. My eyes roamed over my black dress shirt which was a smooth, richly textured fabric that boasted a ridiculously high thread count. The clothes had been laid out on top of my dressing room bench by my butler—one of three. The same went for my pressed slacks and my undergarments. All these items were the best that money could buy.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had to do such a mundane, everyday task as pick out my own clothes. I would imagine that my own thoughts proved how entitled I’d become.
Out of nowhere, an idea seized me that might solve the problem of not being able to help Kristina find her sister. The idea was simple and would only require a few modifications on my part. I looked once more at my reflection, this time with a smile.
I will be seeing you very soon, Kristina.
Chapter Four
I stared at the phone on the wall, willing it to ring. My butt and legs were numb. I’d been sitting there for several hours, keeping strict vigil. My cell was next to me. Either way, I wasn’t missing a call. I’d stationed Jude at the front window to keep an eye on the mailbox and front porch, just in case someone delivered another ransom note, if that’s what you’d call it. The first note hadn’t asked for a thing. That was the problem. I didn’t know what those people wanted.
Jude popped out of nowhere. “You really should get some sleep.”
His body appeared to be chopped in half. The top part of him seemed to sit on the kitchen island, while his bottom half disappeared through the cabinet.
“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on the front of the house!” I didn’t mean to be so bitchy, but I was freaked out about my sister.
“It’s been hours, Kris. Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep an eye on everything. The phone, house…you name it. Torra needs you sharp and rested. You’re no good to anyone, dragging ass like this.”
I looked at the clock on the microwave. The brightly lit numbers told me it was three o’clock in the morning. I gave the phone another frustrated look. If my sister’s kidnappers hadn’t contacted me by then, chances were, they wouldn’t until later in the day, so I decided to take Jude’s advice. He’d always been more sensible than me, anyway.
“All right, you win. I’m going to bed. But just for a few hours.”
Jude smiled, letting out a sigh that was the equivalent of a human breath. Ghosts couldn’t actually breathe, but I guess old habits die hard.
“That’s good enough for me.” He was relieved.
It amazed me, how much Jude had become a part of my family over the last few years. He really did care about me, and I could tell that under the surface, while he was scrambling to make sure I was okay, he was close to freaking out.
I thought back to the first time Jude appeared to me. It happened three years ago. I remembered the date, because he was the first ghost to appear to me without a dire need for vengeance. He looked confused and scared, like the newly deceased usually did; however, he also looked lonely and vulnerable. I asked him about his death, but he refused to tell me anything about it.
That wasn’t the case with any of the other apparitions that sought me out. Their deaths had always been the first thing they wanted to discuss with me. Not so with Jude. His only request was companionship. He’d become my dearest friend and a pivotal part of my family unit—a unit that consisted of Torrance, Jude, and me. And he still refused to tell me how he died.
My weary bones spilled from the barstool. Both of my legs and my butt tingled as my bare feet hit the floor. I hadn’t left my post since I sat down. Not to get a drink of water or to use the bathroom…nothing. Better believe, I was paying in spades for the neglect I had put my body through in those unproductive hours.
For a moment, Jude and I stared at one another, both our faces baring the pain we were feeling. It sucked big, fuzzy tennis balls, not being able to help Torra, and after witnessing the mirrored anguish riddled across Jude’s face, I decided then and there that if we didn’t hear anything from the kidnapper by the afternoon, I was going to hit the pavement for some answers of my own.
I walked across the kitchen half-dazed. When I stopped in front of the refrigerator, it took me a second to remember what I was there for. I moved my tongue around in my mouth; it felt furry and gross. Yuck. Oh yeah, I need water. I pulled out a bottle and took several gulps. After I was finished, I grabbed another bottle off the shelf and pushed the door closed. Bathroom and then bed were next on my to-do list.
Jude was still standing inside the kitchen island, watching me. If you could believe it, he actually looked paler than usual. When he appeared to me, I always saw him in full color, and his clothes somehow changed from day to day. I could tell if he was stressed or angry, embarrassed—the wide scale of emotions—by his coloring and facial expressions. The only differences he had between holding an ethereal form and a corporeal one were that the color of his ghostly flesh was a bit unfocused and duller, and of course, I could walk through him. So because of our familiarity, I knew in an instant that something was wrong.
“Is everything okay? You don’t look so good.” Before he could answer, I held up my hand. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing. I want the truth.”
Jude dropped his head and then said something unexpected. “I think I’m turning into a poltergeist.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s impossible, Jude. A poltergeist is evil and dark. You are full of light and love.”
He kept his head down, not looking at me. He didn’t seem to find my laughter amusing, which was odd, since we shared the same sense of humor. Could it be that he truly believed he was turning into a poltergeist?
“Why would you think that?”
He lifted his head and tugged at the hem of his shirt. His messy curls bounced around his pointy chin. “While I was keeping an eye out the front window, I noticed a strange man jogging towards the house.” He paused.
“And then what?” I asked.
Jude threw his hands up. Out of nowhere, a plate on the counter went crashing into the wall, right next to the phone.
“See what I mean?” he yelled, looking at the broken plate. “And that guy stepped into the yard, and I knocked him on his ass!”
I looked at him, and then over to the spot on the wall where the plate had crashed. That kind of behavior was not like Jude. He never raised his voice, not to mention, moving anything with his energy. Damn.
Jude’s chest moved in and out, like he had just finished running a marathon, and a look of pure anger crumpled his face.
“All I could think was that guy could be o
ne of them, and then something happened to me. I felt energized, powerful even, and somehow, I let all that power go. Then it hit the guy.”
Jude was in a daze. He kept shaking his head in little spurts, trying to shake off the confusion and the anger. I could tell he was gradually coming back to his senses. I watched as the wrinkles on his face relaxed and smoothed, eventually fading away.
“It happened…again,” Jude whispered, looking back at the shattered pieces of china on the floor. “First the man, and now this!” He began to hover back and forth, like he always did when he was nervous. “See, I told you. I’m turning dark. I’m a poltergeist!”
Waves of confusion overtook me. I felt faint. I let loose a rigid breath and set my water bottle on the counter next to the fridge. That was a lot to take in. Especially right on the heels of Torra’s kidnapping.
“I’ve been around you for years, and you’ve never shown any signs of darkness. So for now, we’re going to blame all this craziness on stress. We’ve certainly had our fair share of it,” I explained as calmly as I could, which probably wasn’t calm at all.
With a smile, I walked over to the island where Jude hovered and opened my arms. “Come here, you big baby.” I didn’t have to ask twice. “I will help you work on your self-control issues; I promise. Hell will freeze over before I let anything bad happen to you.”
We couldn’t physically hold onto each other, but what we could do was share energy which passed through us the same way it did when he’d patted my hand earlier. After a few seconds, Jude moved back.
“I love you, Kris,” he choked out between small laughs.
“I love you, too, Jude.”
The sound of flying objects pelting my front door had me whirling around.
Jude flew in front of me with his hands spread wide. “What the hell was that?”
I had been waiting so long for something to happen that I welcomed the odd sounds coming from the door. Impatient to see what was going on, I walked straight through Jude’s body. By the time I made it to the door, Jude was already at the window, peering out of it.
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