Blood Rite

by Sarah Black

  A cranky Joe can only be cured with pie. Except that cure is solely for frivolous bullshit problems.

  A flat tire.

  A broken heart.

  A traffic ticket.

  I yank the door open, heading inside to the mess of desks, phones, and papers. Along one side, a row of windows sits, while desks litter the area in ‘L’ shaped patterns. I pass all of them, my nerves flaring in my belly until I reach the back of the room where a few, single offices sit.

  I rap on the door marked “Detective Palozzi” with Valentino breathing down my neck.

  The door flies open, scattering papers to float about us. Joe glances from me to Valentino and back to me before he shakes his head ever so slightly. He reaches back, grabbing his coat and a file on his desk before brushing past us, leading us out of the building with his phone in his hand.

  I take one glance at Valentino, his brows pulled low, before following Joe.

  Something isn’t right.

  The fact that he didn’t bother to take a moment to yell at me for showing up not even twenty-four hours later when he demanded three days is telling.

  That proverbial cloud that’s been hovering over my head darkens. Its belly heavy and thick as it waits for the perfect time to unleash its storm in an incredible array of hurricane winds and lightning to rival that of Zeus himself.

  My feet thump on the yellowing linoleum as we stride back to the parking lot.

  “Not a word.” Joe knows which car belongs to Valentino as he slides into the passenger seat and I slip into the back. “You’re going to want to drive.”

  “Joe, you’re scaring me.” My stomach aches with the fear of the unknown.

  I shall not fear, I remind myself, turning my bones to steel as I brace myself for whatever he is about to throw down to me.

  “We got a call this morning of peculiar activity, sounded like an injured animal. Naturally, they give that to me.” He wiggles the manila envelope in his hands. “They are trying to draw you out, peanut.” He hands me the folder.

  Hands shaking, I reach out.

  Please don’t let it be Poppy.

  I flip open the folder, my blood turning to ice.

  “I had a guy I know go over and take pictures. He got these back to me this morning. No wards, no guards. Which means trouble.”

  My fingers brush over the image of Aja tied up to a chair, her head lolling forward. The grainy image tears at my soul. “I knew she was innocent.”

  “It could be a trap, Penny. Have you thought of that?” Valentino peers at me in the rearview mirror.

  When did we pull away?

  My fingertip drifts over the image of blood dripping down her face. Then to the awkward angle of her leg to the bend of her shoulder sitting awkwardly in its socket. No, that doesn’t look like the image of a guilty woman. “She could just be a pawn.”

  I flip to the next picture, silence reigning in the car, until I come across a photo of a young, freckle faced kid. That damn pizza delivery guy. Could it just be coincidence that he’s in these images?

  Yes.

  But do I believe it?

  No.

  “Where?” I pack the pictures away, noting that Lazarus isn’t in there. Nor is Mama Davis.

  It’s childish of me to hold on to the hope that perhaps she’s innocent in all of this. That coincidences occur without fault.

  Joe begins giving directions as the hot summer sun beats down on me through the windows. I accept its punishment. Though my crime is nothing more than being a pawn in a game I’m a spectator in. Even if that game revolves around me.

  “Park here. Good thing your car blends in.” Joe settles his cap on his head, his phone in his hand. “Sending for backup.”

  “Do you really think it’ll come to that?” I ask.

  “Who?” Valentino demands, simultaneously punching letters into his own phone. No doubt summoning his own backup.

  “Got a gut feelin’,” he replies to me, ignoring Valentino who grunts. I take it that he knows who he texted.

  I scrub a hand down my face, stretching the skin and pulling my eyes low. “I don’t care what you guys think, I’m going in after Aja.” I hold my hand up to ward off their arguments. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

  “That only works on humans who can’t shred your skin,” Joe argues.

  “Tell me, Penny, have you come to terms with what we discussed last night?” Valentino turns around, his green eyes watching my face for any hint that I might flake out.

  Things have changed. I want to hear Aja tell me her mother had nothing to do with my mother’s death. That the woman who gave me eight years of her life and more didn’t do it for nefarious purposes. I need to hear the words, because the evidence stacked against her is staggering.

  I ignore him and turn to Joe’s knowing eyes. “Did you know my mother worked for Angela?”

  Say no.

  Please, say no.

  His eyes shutter and my heart slips from my chest.

  “Joe?” How do I feel like a child in that moment?

  “I found out when Poppy and I began to look into your parents’ death. Someone spent a great deal of time making sure that information was never known.” He shakes his head, his eyes pensive, voice soft. “I don’t know what she did, and I don’t know why it was covered up. I’ve suspected Angela was to blame for a long while now.”

  I exhale past the fluttering in my heart.

  “Penny, tell me now if you will be helpful or not.” Valentino’s hard voice is everything I need in that moment. Rough and gritty and my anchor in this hurricane. All around me, the world tilts on its axis, leaving me with nothing solid to hold onto.

  My world has been a lie. My life a lie.

  It’s past time I grab onto the world and do what I can to make it work for me.

  “You won’t have to worry about me, Valentino.” For the first time, I mean it.

  29

  Secret places, abandoned places, sit idle all around the world. Waiting for someone or something to breathe fresh life into its soul. Most are decrepit, worn down, while glass scatters about the ground. They have a certain vibe to them, holding a melody that haunts and yet piques curiosity until an unsuspecting victim falls into its web.

  I’ve become intimate with the black widow’s web. I am she.

  All around me, trees reach toward the sky as an abandoned church sits in its thicket. Weeds and ivy creep up the side while moss bathes in the sun.

  A smarter person would have waited until sundown to sneak into this dilapidated building under the cover of darkness. But Poppy’s voice rang in my head as I sat in the car a few streets over.

  Nothing exists in the dark that isn’t there in the light.

  A conundrum pierced my brain with those words. The creatures that emerge in our nightmares are always there, even in the light. Waiting. Lurking. Their patience knows no bounds as they slowly creep into the imagination.

  A shadow here. Caught just out of the corner of the eye.

  Was it there?

  Was it not?

  Though I was never one with the best of stealth, I was considerably better than Poppy who trips over air. Perhaps that’s why she was gifted with the ability to cloak us. I don’t have that luxury. So I crouch behind a tree, my eyes closed. Ahead, I can feel Valentino, his body a weapon just waiting to strike. And strike he will.

  Joe waits at the car for his backup. Whoever that may be. I’m glad, because we cannot fight magic with fists or feet. Magic must be fought with magic.

  Don’t get stabbed. My sister’s tinkering laughter warms me. It’s sneaky of her to spy on me right now. She’s lucky I didn’t startle.

  I don’t reply mentally, because all of my concentration lies at the broken wooden door. Once a grand statement piece, it now hangs off a hinge while the darkness of the church beyond lazily spears the light.

  What is it with vampires and churches?

  I suspect it has everything to do with God cursing them
to forever walk the night. Which, come to think of it, surprises me that Valentino agreed to do this now instead of later.

  Because though the creatures of nightmare exist in the light, they thrive in the dark.

  So I wait, tucked up against a tree, my eyes closed as I send out my own web. My threads of magic stretch outward, tasting the air for intruders. I hold back a snort. We are the intruders here. Either way, I push out further and further until my tongue tastes the bitter flavor of a Cain vampire.

  I open my eyes to Valentino, his own glued to me with such intensity it takes my breath away. I jerk my head in the direction of the other vamp, and as though he is nothing more than the wind, he disappears, leaving only the cloying scent of spice to taint the air.

  I crouch deeper into the overgrown garden and duck walk to the other side of the tree, once more reaching out with my senses. Beyond my line of sight, another vampire sits in wait, his blood calling to me, speaking to me of promises to make me stronger.

  More.

  I ignore that call until I can feel Valentino beside me. Again without words, I simply point in the direction of the vampire. Turning my attention to the church, I creep forward, testing my boundaries as I push through the doors and inside where all I feel is a resting shifter.

  Aja.

  Now Joe’s voice rings in my head. Only two vampires protecting their bait. I’m not buying it. Something isn’t right. That proverbial cloud that has been sitting over my head for far too long darkens. I can feel the weight of this game of cat and mouse straining me.

  But what choices do I have? Waiting until dark will only bring about an ambush.

  I could be walking into one right now.

  I should trust my magic, but my gut screams of the danger lurking in the shadows. Of the ones I cannot feel. I know they are more than likely there, so when Valentino comes back, I frown at him and hold up a fist to indicate there are no more vampires.

  My suspicions are confirmed when he frowns, his head jerking to the side for us to go back. To wait.

  “Your backup is on the way?” I whisper for his ears only.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Joe called in backup?”

  “Yes, but—”

  I blow out a breath and stand before clomping through the waist high weeds toward the front door of the lion’s den. My heart pounds in my throat and adrenaline floods my system. I peek back once, not finding Valentino. It cuts, but only for a moment before I reach the door and push it open further. I kick a rock over to keep it from swinging closed.

  I stand at the threshold of an unknown.

  I shall not fear.

  I step into the dark, allowing it to wrap around me like a comforting blanket I cherish. I realize then just how much I do treasure the night. How it feels to coat my skin as I bleed in with the shadows.

  Some may call me a monster, but I am nothing more than the embodiment of the dark.

  All around, me shadows creep and dust motes flicker and dance beyond my vision. While the sound of flies buzz in my ear. The scent of blood tickles my nose, its power long dead as it lies stagnant somewhere off in the distance. Ahead, Aja sits slumped in the center of the once grand church, a ring of light obnoxiously illuminating her. Wooden floorboards tempt my feet to trip with broken chips of wood. Silently, I creep closer, my eyes landing on her chained legs, hands, chest, and arms. Everywhere the chain sits on her exposed flesh, it burns her skin. Dark, angry red welts seep with infection, tainting the air with sickness. Blood weeps from her wounds.

  I hesitate in running toward her, and instead cast out my web to see if any creature tickles the strands.

  Nothing.

  I swallow, knowing this is a trap. Feeling it for what it is doesn’t change it.

  Yet I still walk toward Aja, my best friend. The woman who always knows when my heart is breaking or when I just need a moment, and dare I say a hug. I kneel before her. My knees landing with a soft thud in the dark room.

  Overhead, my proverbial cloud deepens as thunder rumbles in my ears. In reality, it’s nothing more than the rush of my own blood. My hands shake as they reach out to grip the chains. My palms sink onto their cool links, but my hands don’t burn.

  Reaching into my jacket, I seek out a bobby pin, knowing there has to be alone one in there somewhere. Memories flash behind my eyes of a lesson brought on by Joe. Always Joe, who knew more than he ever let on.

  He handed us a simple lock and told us to pick it. A weird lesson for two young girls, but we took it to heart, and it took us hours. When we finally figured it out, he gave us another lock. Then another and another.

  Hindsight makes me wonder what he knew or suspected. My fingertips wrap around the little pick and I pull it out, bending it in such a way to work on the lock. The chains rattle in the cavernous room, spiking my nerves and the tension to free Aja and get the fuck out.

  Her eyelids flicker then widen.

  “Stay still,” I hiss, as her body wiggles.

  She doesn’t listen, her body trembling as she leans in with tears in her eyes. “Trap.” Her voice is hoarse and broken.

  I keep trying to work at the lock. “I know.” But what can I do about it? I need to get these chains off of her.

  “Penny, you need to run.” She jiggles the chains just as I get one lock open. Her legs fall to the side as a hiss of relief escapes her. “Silver.”

  “Let me get your arms.”

  “I got my legs. You need to run.”

  “I’ll get your arms.”

  “I can’t believe you came for me.” Her brown eyes, once always so fierce, stare at me in bewilderment.

  “I couldn’t leave you.”

  “You should run,” she repeats.

  Lights blaze all around us. “Please run. Run, little witch, I do love a good chase.”

  “Run,” Aja whispers, tears now streaming down her face.

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “And when they break and use you, you will regret that decision.”

  I eye my best friend as footsteps clack behind me. Chills race up my spine with the need to move. I don’t, like a fool I don’t. I stay, my hand settling on her knee as sobs tear from her throat. Her cheeks are stained with mascara and tears.

  Her spirit is broken with the silver chains wrapped around her body. She’s nothing more than a pawn, like me. She had nothing to do with this. I’m sure her family didn’t either. Hope sings through my veins at that. They are all probably out looking for her.

  “Whatever happens next, we face it together.” My heart races as the creature behind me gets closer. The one my web has yet to pick up on.

  A sob puffs from her throat.

  “This is cute.”

  I know who stands behind me as I turn on my heel, my gaze landing on dark jeans and bare feet. My head dips back to take in his whole form up to his soulless eyes. “Lazarus.”

  I stand slowly, but not before placing my pin under Aja’s leg.

  “You rushed our timeline, sweetheart.” His head cocks to the side while he smacks his lips.

  Neither of us move, the tension building and building until I itch with it. “Timeline?” I settle my shaky hands on my hips to give the appearance that I’m strong and not scared like I truly am.

  “Oh yes. Timeline.” He steps into me, too close, where I can smell his bitter odor.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, I wasn’t aware I was on anyone’s timeline.”

  His wrist snaps out, grabbing my neck as his long fingers coil around my throat. The fangs in his mouth lengthen as saliva drips from their sharp points. Revulsion swims in my stomach.

  I could kill him. In a mere moment.

  But I pause. He still isn’t in my web. “How?” The words slip past me before I can stop myself. A moment of weakness before the predator.

  “I bet right now you are wondering why you can’t feel me.” He reaches into his back pocket with his other hand where he pulls out a little pill. “What you don’t know can
kill you, sweetheart.” He returns the pill to his pocket.

  I swear that before I leave this place, I will get that pill from him. I push against the barrier he’s put up against my magic, poking it for holes. A weakness. A wrinkle I can bend. Anything.

  He tuts, a shiver shaking his body. “Can’t get in, can you? I admit, when she gave me this I didn’t think it would work.” His fingers clench tighter. “Not only can you not feel me, no creature can.”

  Impossible.

  He kicks Aja’s leg. “Isn’t that right, kitty? She makes the perfect bait, don’t you think?” He leans in, his foul breath sliding over my face. “She was gifted to me. Know what that means?”

  “I don’t need to know, because I will kill you first.”

  I shall kill my enemies.

  He throws his head back in laughter, the sound echoing all around me. “With what, sweetie?” he taunts. “You have no magic, which makes you nothing more than a mere normie. A pathetic human.”

  I smile, even as I feel the grip on my neck tighten. His nails dig into my flesh, breaking the skin so that little beads of blood well up. Their slow, sticky glide down my throat reminds me I am not without power.

  Each droplet contains power, my power. My magic. With a small nudge, I poison each drop. His hiss is music to my ears, his grip loosening. In one fluid motion, I jerk to the side, his fingernails scratching my neck as I bring my arm up, my palm slapping against his elbow. The momentum is too much on his joints, and the snap brings a smile to my lips.

  But I don’t stop there, even as his howl of pain disturbs the birds in the rafters. I kick his stomach. Moving forward, I grip his hair, smashing his face against my knee. His blood spurts as he throws himself backwards. His eyes wide.

  Still, I cannot taste the power in his blood.

  “For a vampire, you’re rather pathetic.” I advance, but even though I surprised him, it won’t last long.

  Recovering, he jumps to his feet, his nose crooked and his blood slowing. “Sneaky, sneaky.”

  It’s all the warning I get before he slams into me and we go flying back into the cross that still hangs on the wall in shadow. My head slams against intricate design, my vision blinking out.