Phantoms of the Otherworld (In Spiritu Et Veritate)
Page 11
“Hey, come on in,” I greeted Abby happily, leaving the door open so she could follow me in. “I just have to put some stuff away real quick.”
I shoved my textbooks into my backpack, and then while I pulled on my jacket looked around for my shoes. Unable to find them, I sat down on the desk chair to think about the last place I’d put them, until Abby tapped my shoulder and held the shoes up to me.
“They were behind the door.” She handed them over and then sat patiently on the bed while I slipped them on. “You play the guitar?” she asked excitedly, eyeing the instrument I had leaned against the foot of the bed.
“Yeah, I play a little bit,” I admitted, shyly avoiding eye contact.
She picked it up and ran her hand gently down the strings. “Will you play something for me?”
My cheeks flushed red and I buried my face in my hands, peeking out from between my fingers. “Don’t make me. I’m too scared.”
“Oh come on, don’t be shy.” She tried to encourage me to get over my nerves, but I stubbornly shook my head. “Fine, but you owe me one. Promise? I’ll know if you’re lying.” After the last statement she teasingly stuck her tongue out.
“I promise,” I laughed, and made a crossing motion over my heart. She studied me thoughtfully for a few moments before nodding in approval, and then motioned for me to follow her out the door. “Where is this place exactly?”
“It’s in town. Well, closer to town. It’s one of those places that are on the side of a stretch of highway. The kind that normally look a little bit dicey, but I promise The Orchid is a lot of fun.” Abby seemed genuinely excited about going to the club, which succeeded in getting me excited too. As we entered the elevator, she leaned against the wall and examined me again, eyes scanning me like she wasn’t aware she was doing it. I wasn’t uncomfortable with being watched, but something about the way she did it made me self-conscious.
“What?” I asked, and once again my face started to color. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, giving a timid smile, and just shook her head. “You know, it’s not entirely fair that you can hear my thoughts, but won’t tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Trust me, it’s not always a gift,” she chuckled, glancing around the elevator in obvious hopes I would forget about it, but I just raised an eyebrow expectantly until she sighed in defeat. “I was just thinking that the song you have stuck in your head is one of my favorites, and you have a beautiful voice.”
I’d hardly even realized I had a song stuck in my head, but now that she mentioned it, I’d been singing it to myself all day. “You can tell how good my voice is from my thoughts?”
“Yeah, no matter how it sounds to you it comes out in your natural voice.” Abby snorted to herself, clearly holding back maniacal laughter. “For example, last month Mr. Carson, my history teacher, kept belting Broadway songs in his head. Believe me when I say you’ll wish death on the world if you ever hear him sing anything out loud.”
I hadn’t met Mr. Carson, but the thought of any teacher singing classic show tunes caused me to burst into laughter. Even as we stepped off the elevator I received strange looks from a couple of girls getting on because I was still giggling. I followed Abby out into one of the side parking lots and to a dark blue sedan. The interior smelled mostly of the sweet perfume I noticed Abby often wore, along with a mixture of the lavender freshener hanging in the window and various smoking products. I inhaled sharply as I recognized one of the scents as an illegal variety, and squinted suspiciously at Abby.
“Not me,” she assured with a chuckle as she started the car and pulled out of the parking space. “My freeloader brother was back a couple days ago and treated his friends to a night on the town. It doesn’t really smell that bad, does it?”
“Just try not to get pulled over,” I teased, reaching behind me to pull on my seatbelt. “So, what’s your story?”
“My story?” Abby asked, seemingly surprised by the question. “Um, parents are divorced, lived here my whole life. That’s about it.”
“And that’s what makes you Abby?” I laughed, cocking my head disapprovingly and making it clear I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “You don’t talk about yourself much do you?”
“Not really,” she said honestly, still sounding reluctant. “Most people ask those kinds of questions just to be nice. They don’t really care about the answer.”
“I care,” I told her confidently, and for added reassurance I gave a toothy grin when she cast me a wary glance. I wasn’t the kind of person who asked questions when I didn’t really care to hear the answer, and I definitely liked knowing basic stuff about the people I hung out with. Noticing that Abby didn’t know where to start, I tried to find a good place for her to begin. “Where does the whole mind-reading thing come from?”
She turned off the road we were on and onto a long stretch of highway that was thickly lined with trees. “My mom can do it actually, and my dad is a warlock. Strangely though, my brother doesn’t have any gifts, I think it’s a bit hard on him.”
“You mean your dad does magic?” I asked curiously, to which she nodded. “Does he teach you anything?”
She shook her head apathetically. “If only we were that close. He’s too busy for me. He has books though. I used to look through them when I was younger, taught myself a few things.”
“What does he do that keeps him so busy?”
“Oh, we’re here,” Abby said jovially, and pulled off the road toward a brightly lit building in a section of cut out trees.
I knew she’d heard the question, but figured if she hadn’t answered it was because she didn’t want to. Instead of pushing the topic I got out of the car and followed her back to the front of the tall brick building, where I stood in awe of the enormous neon sign. Bright red letters read ‘The Orchid,’ and were finished with a massive white flower. Muffled rumbling of loud music pierced the silent night, and through the brick walls the stench of hot bodies, smoke, and booze seeped into the cold air. Mixed in with the scent of The Orchid, however, there was something else. A smell I didn’t recognize but that made every hair on my arms and neck stand on end.
“Do you smell that?” First it was the sweet aroma of vanilla, then the retched stench of decaying flesh. It smelt like death. Death and vanilla, one in the same. It made my eyes burn and my mouth water, each desperately trying to wash away the filth.
Abby furrowed her eyebrows curiously while she deliberately breathed in the night air. Unable to smell what I did, she shook her head. “No, but should we go inside?”
I cast a last, searching glance around the outside of the building before nodding and following her through the red, metal double-doors. It certainly wasn’t what I’d expected. I was finding most things in my new home were a lot bigger than they looked from the outside. A stage on the far side of the club sustained an excessive turntable, manned by a single DJ in the center. Directly in front of the stage was where everyone was dancing, probably because that was where the music was loudest.
Farther toward the center of the club and just in front of us were scattered tables where the less rowdy could enjoy the music with a drink they got at the bar, which jutted from the wall on the other side of them. On both sides of the long bar was more seating and a couple of large booths set against the walls. I squinted against the multiple strobe and neon lights that illuminated the scene before me, and a solid light from above caught my eye. I hadn’t noticed the second floor until now. It was sectioned off by glass walls and was lit normally, even if rather dimly, and from below I could see more seating and a few pool tables. I found myself wondering if it was quieter upstairs, since the loud music was already ringing in my sensitive ears.
“Do you want a drink?” Abby asked, bringing her lips close to my ear and pointing to the bar. My mouth hung open in a silent ‘um’ as I tensed awkwardly, and thought about how to best decline an alcoholic beverage. Even though I couldn’t hear Abby laugh, her lips curled into a smile. “Let me
rephrase that, would you like a soda?”
Letting out an embarrassed giggle, I nodded and followed her to the bar. I watched as she skillfully acquired the busy bartender’s attention and ordered two drinks, which she paid for with a bill that seemed to appear from thin air. I took the drink she handed me and sat down across from her at the nearest empty table.
“What do you think?” She didn’t have to shout quite as loud as before, but I still wondered how I was able to hear or think at all.
I took a sip of my soda and glanced around the booming club. “I can’t. Maybe you could let me know?”
She leaned forward halfway through like she couldn’t hear me very well, and then smirked amusedly while shaking her head. “I can hardly hear your voice, let alone your thoughts.”
I nodded thoughtfully. That was the trick? Blaring music and my mind was once again my own. I watched curiously as a girl about our age hugged Abby’s shoulders from behind, and her along with two others greeted us with smiles. Abby introduced the three as Maddie, Tory, and Hannah, and I waited patiently while she made small talk with them. I didn’t mind, I found it interesting the way Abby talked with them. It was different from the way she talked to me, like even though it was easy to listen she had to force herself to be interested or say anything back.
I sipped my soda and used the opportunity to study Abby in the privacy of my own mind. Though she was clearly attractive, I didn’t consider myself to be extremely captivated by her. But then again, I refused to think about it when she could hear, and so I hadn’t yet come to a conclusion. The other thing that had kept me from thinking too much about it was Camille, because I still wasn’t sure where we stood. Lately, however, I’d felt myself growing restless, especially where romance was concerned – I still blamed it on the wolf. Now my curious eyes kept leading me back to Abby’s smile. Perfect pearly-whites beamed through her grin, and dimples creased her soft, freckled cheeks.
One of the girls, who I tried to remember as either Hannah or Maddie, cheerfully said something about college boys, and waved bye to Abby before pulling the other two away. Abby returned her attention to me and laughed, “They like trying to get the college boys to buy them drinks.”
“Do you drink?” I asked immediately. I hadn’t really meant to ask, as I figured it wasn’t an important question and since I already felt I’d given the impression I was picky about friends, but it slipped.
Abby just shook her head, unconcerned with how direct the question was. “Not usually. It’s already hard to tune out people’s thoughts, it’s worse when I’m under the influence. What about you?”
I shrugged and finished off my drink. “I’ve never tried it, but I’m already having trouble controlling my Changes, I don’t see how alcohol would help.”
Nodding in understanding, Abby looked around as if searching for something to say. “Do you want to dance?”
“Dance?” I repeated, and thoughtfully glanced toward the crowd of people in front of the stage before agreeing.
I followed her out into the middle of the large group and couldn’t help but be a little nervous. I’d danced with an ex-boyfriend a few times, but never with a girl, and I wondered if we were supposed to move in that same, suggestive way. Was that what Abby had even meant in the first place? She looked unsure too as she stood in front of me, shyly starting to sway her hips in rhythm with the music. I knew it was up to me to raise the comfort bar, and so I began to do the same, gradually and hesitantly. After a song or two I grew more at ease, and my movements became more emphasized and fluid. Then I noticed that Abby’s hands had settled on my hips, and we’d gotten informally close. Maybe that’s what made me feel more confident. I didn’t know what I thought about her proximity to me. Couldn’t think period with the pounding of the bass in my ears.
I didn’t want to pull away because I worried that she might find it insulting. But watching her hips sway and feeling the way her hands guided my own planted an inkling of lust deep within me. It was the wolf’s influence over me, and it was strong. Even stronger, however, was Camille’s influence over me. Though what I was forced to do hurt Camille, it hadn’t been sincere. There was that part of me that still felt attached to her, even if I was confused about what she wanted. That confusion was powerful enough to keep me from taking it further with Abby. It conquered the wolf and gave me the sense to turn around. Because even if I was still dancing, not being able to see the skill with which Abby moved allowed me to push away the bawdy thoughts that would’ve eventually surfaced, and I thanked my lucky stars the music was too loud for her to hear my internal argument.
After some time I was able to view my dancing with her as a strictly friendly gesture. The lack of distance from us and everyone else made it feel like we weren’t dancing just the two of us, and most the time I couldn’t even tell if it was her against me or somebody else. That’s how it was for quite a while, until both of us were too hot and too tired to continue, at which point Abby took my hand and led me back to the bar area.
“Do you want to go or hang out a bit longer?” She pulled out her cell phone and held it up so I could see the time.
11:15, we’d been dancing a lot longer than I thought. It wasn’t too late into the evening, but I did have a test in the morning, so I pointed to the door. “We can go.” I followed her out into the night and to the side of the building where we’d parked, and every hair on my body pricked up before I even registered that I could smell that horrid stench again. “God, tell me you can smell that now. Hey, wait…” There was something familiar in the air. I let go of the handle to the car door I was about to open and walked toward the fragrance, which was coming from the woods behind the building.
I heard Abby’s footsteps close behind me, but I was too preoccupied with my nose in the air to explain. It was the scent of a werewolf, one I knew. What was his name? Nathan. As I got nearer the forest and farther from the club the music started to fade, and I could hear the sounds of scuffling, and the breaking of branches and leaves. It sounded like a struggle. I took off sprinting into the woods, and was about a hundred feet in when I finally spotted Nathan, naked and leaned against a tree. Much to my confusion he was alone, and while there was the tiniest lingering of the horrible smell, it was nearly gone, and the only one that remained was his.
“Nathan?” I called, rushing toward him and catching his waist as he almost dropped to the snow.
“We need… to leave…” A tiny wave of relief turned up his lips when I reached him, but he was heavily out of breath, and his eyes were dark and wild.
I wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders to help him up. “What happened?”
As I started leading the battered werewolf back toward the parking lot, Abby, who looked terribly uncomfortable at his lack of clothing, lifted his other arm over her own shoulders and helped me support him. Nathan just shook his head, too exhausted and still breathing too heavily to explain. I worriedly looked him over, but while he appeared to be a little bruised in areas there were no cuts or serious injuries.
Despite his rather healthy state, his face was colorless with fear, and he was shaking violently, though I didn’t know if he was going to go into shock or was just really cold. Either way, I let Abby fully support him while I pulled off my jacket and laid it across his broad shoulders. We opened the back door of the car and he climbed in, collapsing over the seat where he mumbled something about getting him to Eli, and then seemed to pass out.
I slid into the passenger seat while Abby hurriedly started the engine and pulled out of the lot. “Do you know where the Pack house is?” I asked, to which she nodded. “Could you hear what he was thinking? Do you know what happened?”
Abby’s eyes had grown wide, mirroring the fear in Nathan’s, and her mouth set in a tense line. It was obvious there was far too much going on in her head to form a complete, explanatory sentence, so she mumbled one word before turning her eyes back on the road and speeding up. “Vampires.”
My eyebrows f
urrowed in utter bemusement. Vampires what? Was Nathan fighting with them? Maybe that’s what that horrible smell was. I glanced over my shoulder to the boy in the back seat. His chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathing, but I couldn’t tell if he was passed out or not because his hands cupped his face protectively. As I took my eyes off of him a frustrated growl escaped from deep in my chest.
I thought Oregon was going to be safe. We could run here and rarely have to worry about other mutts. I thought there would be no more danger. Clearly something tried to hurt Nathan. What would stop it from trying to hurt me? Or even worse, Camille? Out of the corner of my eye I saw Abby’s head turn so she could look at me. When I met her gaze I expected her to mutter some friendly reassurances that we weren’t in danger. Instead, the girl’s eyes dropped uncomfortably, the corners of her mouth sunk in a frown.
For the rest of the record short ride to the house I focused on Nathan’s breathing in the back seat, making sure it never stopped. Abby’s car skidded to a halt at the front of the house, and we hurriedly removed Nathan from the back seat to carry him in.
“Hello!” I shouted frantically, and we set Nathan on the short couch between the stairs of the grand entranceway.
I was surprised to see Camille run down the stairs with Lacey. Probably just as surprised as Camille looked to see Abby. Lacey stopped when she saw Nathan lying on the couch, covered only by my small jacket, and ran back up to grab a blanket.
“What the hell happened?” Camille asked worriedly, catching the linen Lacey threw over the balcony and wrapping it around him.
“I was attacked, near The Orchid.” Nathan sat up. His breathing was returning to normal, but he sounded exhausted, still almost too tired to speak. “I was out for a run and two vampires attacked me. Where’s Eli?”