by Melody Raven
“It’s not exactly something I would mix up.”
“I know that,” said Hope. “But you were traumatized, and seeing a lot of blood combined with having your home invaded and fending off an attack can make the mind go a little crazy.”
“First of all, I’m a nurse, so I see lots of blood all the time. Second of all, I didn’t so much fend off an attack as I attempted to stop the knife with my stomach.”
Hope took a sip of her freshly brewed herbal tea and contemplated the situation. “You have to understand that there are cases where people die and wake up again. Dozens of stories. Supernatural and natural stories. However, I cannot think of any scenario where the person wakes up with a brand new body.”
“Well, that’s what happened. Different hair, missing scars, but somehow the same couple pounds I can never seem to lose.”
Hope laughed. “It makes sense. If some power had to make you a new body, size is easy. Details like small scars or particular hairstyles are harder to recreate.”
“You think some power created a new body for me? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Hope shrugged. “I’m just brainstorming. I don’t really know what to make of you.”
“Well that sucks.” Gena sighed. “You are the only person I know who might make sense out of all of this.”
“Oh, I’m not giving up just yet,” reassured Hope. “There is an explanation out there for what happened last night. We just need to find the right trail of breadcrumbs to lead us to that explanation.”
“There are no breadcrumbs!” Gena had racked her brain thousands of times on the drive to the city. There was nothing supernatural about any aspect of her life. She explained to Hope, “I have two great and completely normal parents, above average but not spectacular grades, and nothing crazy like this has ever happened to me.”
Hope scowled. “And you are sure you’re not adopted?”
Gena nodded. “I look exactly like my mother and have my father’s eyes.”
“What about dreams? What do you normally dream about?” asked Hope.
Gena went very still. “Are dreams important?”
Hope sat up. “Sometimes they’re meaningless, but other times they can be used to communicate with spirits and see things you would be unable to see in the physical realm.”
Physical realm? Who was crazier: the person saying this stuff or the person listening to it? “Umm...I don’t really dream.”
“Are you sure?” Hope sounded skeptical. “Everyone dreams.”
“Well, I kind of dream. I get night terrors sometimes. I scream a lot, and eventually I wake up or someone forces me awake, but I can never remember anything afterwards.”
The terrors had started during her senior year in high school, and she’d nearly given her mother a heart attack. She went to one therapist to discuss them, but the therapist didn’t help at all, and, though the terrors were annoying, they only came once every one or two months and were over after a few minutes.
Gena explained this and said, “I guess it never seemed that strange.”
“On its own, it wouldn’t be considered too strange,” agreed Hope. “But combined with you magically not dying, this might be the way to discover what’s happening to you.”
“How could these dreams explain anything? Do you think spirits are messing with me?” Gena shuddered at the thought. The dreams hadn’t bothered her much, but she’d never considered that ghosts were messing with her.
“The only way we can find that out is to find out what is scaring you in your dreams. No strange images have ever come to you while you were awake? Have you ever been terrified of something normal even when you knew it was irrational?”
Gena shook her head. “I’ve never noticed anything like that. You think my dreams might affect me while I’m awake?”
“More like hoping they were. It might be a bit of a challenge to get you to remember your dreams. Maybe we can find a psychic, but they’re very rare and hard to find. And expensive.”
Gena groaned at the thought of money. “I swear, I will find some way to get my money. As soon as I let my mom know I’m okay, I’m sure she will find some way to get access to my account.”
Hope looked skeptical. “You’ve been through enough already without having to worry about finances. Joy loved you, and that’s all I need to know. I don’t have much, but you can just make yourself at home for the time being.”
Gena was so grateful for the help. If Hope had refused, she didn’t know what she might do. All she had was a bag full of belongings, a car that officially belonged to a dead woman, and a loyal dog. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to be a burden on Hope for too long.
“How long do you think it will take to find this psychic?” asked Gena.
“It really depends,” she replied. “If one of my friends knows one, it could be a week or less. However, because I’ve never heard anyone mention a psychic who they had physically seen or spoken to, I think it will take longer.”
“I can’t just stay here indefinitely. We don’t even know if this psychic will be able to help anyway,” pointed out Gena. “Isn’t there any other way? Anyone else we can talk to? You don’t have to take me anywhere. Just point me in the right direction.”
Hope didn’t look optimistic. “I don’t think—” She stopped abruptly. “You know what? There might be someone. He isn’t really easy to talk to or very friendly, but I suppose it’s worth a shot.”
Gena’s interest was piqued. “Who is he? How could he help me?”
“His name is Vlad. He is very old and powerful, but most importantly, he knows almost every potent supernatural being in the state. If anyone could point you in the right direction, he’d be able to.”
Gena breathed a sigh of relief. “When can we see him?”
Hope’s eyes shifted away. “You’re probably tired,” she said. “Let me get you a blanket.”
Gena was tired, but she still wanted to know why Hope was avoiding the topic. “When can we see him?” she asked again.
“That’s the hard part,” she said. “You see, Vlad isn’t the friendliest person. He owns some club in a bit of a trashy area, and only select people get in.” Hope got up and walked into the hallway that led to the bedroom and stopped at a small closet. She took out a few blankets.
“How select?” asked Gena, skeptically.
Hope walked back into the living area. “From my experience, if you are a woman, the less clothes you wear, the better.” Gena rolled her eyes, and Hope added, “But on the bright side, you have a really nice body, and I have gotten in before. I’m sure Donna and I can find something suitable for you to wear.”
Gena looked down at herself. She’d never hated her body but didn’t consider it “really nice” either. This was never going to work. She opened her mouth to say so, but Hope cut her off. “Don’t worry about anything. I will take care of getting your clothes, hair and makeup so badass that Vlad would never refuse you. Your main job right now is to get some sleep.”
Gena wanted to argue with her, but in all honesty, she was exhausted. Dressing trashy for one night wouldn’t kill her. Really, she’d already been murdered.
It was about four in the afternoon when Ryan found the demon’s car. For some reason, the beast had come to New York City.
He shoved a few small white pills into his mouth. He needed to stay awake. He hadn’t slept for thirty-six hours, but he could not let the beast escape him. He was already worried the thing had just abandoned the car. His worries were lifted when the beast walked outside as the shadows started to get really long in the city.
The thing was walking Gena’s dog, but it wasn’t alone. A tall woman with dark hair walked with her. A lot of people were around now. Eventually, he’d get the beast alone. After the dog had taken care of business, the two turned and went back inside the building.
The building housing the beast was a store for witches. Ryan curled his lip at the idea of witches.
He felt at his side
for his 9mm Beretta. If he stayed by the building, it was only a matter of time before the beast showed itself again. And the second he had a chance, he would put a bullet right between its fake eyes.
Gena had been wrong. Dressing trashy for one night could kill her. She’d die of embarrassment if she went out in public dressed like this. For the hundredth time, she said, “I cannot wear this.”
Hope rolled her eyes and smiled. She didn’t seem to have any issue baring her body. Hope wore a skirt that stopped mere millimeters below her butt, a pair of knee-high, lace-up boots, and fishnet stockings. On top, she wore a shirt that looked more like a bra, with at least five inches of well-toned abs showing and arm sleeves also made of fishnet.
Her hair was a styled mess around her face, and her eyes now had even more black eyeliner than they had on earlier when Gena first met her.
“Come on,” said Hope. “You are wearing a lot more than I am.”
That much was true. Gena assumed Hope had trouble finding her clothes, because she was certain everything she wore was a size too small.
She had on skintight leather pants and black leather boots. Her top half was squeezed into a black corset. The corset did cover her whole midriff, but cutouts along the back and sides left her feeling exposed. The fact that her breasts were pushed up about as far as they could possibly go without spilling out of the top didn’t help either.
Her makeup was a bit more conservative, though that wasn’t saying much. She still had on more eyeliner than she was used to and lipstick in a shade of red she would never even consider wearing. With her dark hair falling down over her too exposed breasts, Gena didn’t even recognize herself.
“Do you think we’ll get in?”
Hope nodded. “I’m sure of it. The place is popular, so we have to get there early enough to get a good spot in line, but as far as looks go, I think we are perfect.”
Gena looked to the mirror again but couldn’t seem to find the same confidence Hope had. However, going out in public dressed like this had to be better than just sitting around and wondering when Hope would find someone who could help her. At least no one from Michigan would see her dressed like this.
“Before we go,” said Hope. “I want to give you a word of warning. Be careful what you say. Try not to mention you were killed to anyone unless I give you the okay.”
“What would it matter?” asked Gena. “It’s not like most people will believe me anyway.”
“Most people wouldn’t believe you,” she agreed. “But there are some people who would do anything for the ability to cheat death. We don’t know if you are immortal or what could hurt you. You need to be careful.”
Gena took that in. What would someone do in order to find out just how invincible she was? She shuddered at the thought. “I will let you do the talking.”
Gena gathered up the last of her nerves and announced, “I’m ready to get this over with.”
After half an hour of walking and twenty minutes of waiting in line, Gena didn’t feel quite as ridiculous. She was surrounded by fifty other women and men who wore outfits similar to hers. Some wore even less than Hope.
She’d never considered herself a prude before, but she couldn’t bring herself to even look at some of these scantily clad people. She’d spent most of the night so far avoiding eye contact with everyone around her. Hope thought she was hilarious, but she couldn’t help it if strange piercings and crazy makeup intimidated her. Hell, if old-Gena had run into herself as she was dressed now, old-Gena would have run away screaming. What she wouldn’t give for this night to be over.
Hope nudged her. “We’re almost to the bouncer. Try not to look like you would rather shoot yourself in the foot than be here.”
“I don’t look that bad,” she defended.
Hope sighed. “Just—” She looked her up and down. “You look amazing. Just try to act like you feel as sexy as you look.”
Gena tried to give her best “I feel sexy” look. Hope made an exasperated grunt. “Don’t do that.” Gena immediately wiped the expression off her face. “Just try to look happy, but don’t smile. Smiling does not go with that outfit.”
The comment made Gena laugh. “Keep your eyes like that!” said Hope. “Just let your mouth go natural and let your eyes stay happy. It will make you look sexy and mysterious.”
“I’m already mysterious enough,” pointed out Gena. “If I weren’t, we wouldn’t be here trying to solve my mysteries.”
As the line moved again and the women walked to the bouncer, Hope muttered, “Just shut up and do what I say.”
Gena did as she was told. She tried to get her smile to flow through to her eyes without moving her mouth. She needed to look more badass. She stared at the bouncer, who easily had a hundred pounds on Gena, and imagined he was just a ten-year-old boy who held the rope in his hand.
Whatever she did with her face must not have been too disturbing to the bouncer. He nodded at Gena and Hope and let them through the ropes.
Gena was immediately overwhelmed by the sounds and sights inside the club. The place was called Fang, and Gena tried really hard to not contemplate what that name meant.
The music was so loud, she could hardly make out what Hope said, even though she stood right next to her. Lots of bodies wearing too much black kept brushing against her, and she was regretting the loss of her personal space.
Hope pulled her over to the crowded bar. Apparently the bartender didn’t have trouble hearing, because he went right to work pouring some drinks after a shout from Hope. Gena didn’t know what she’d ordered but figured it out when a shot glass of clear liquid and a lime was handed to her.
She gave Hope a quizzical look and Hope said, “Liquid courage.”
Gena wanted to argue, but then another almost naked woman brushed up against her and her whole body went tense. She could use fewer inhibitions tonight. She tilted her head back and let the tequila slink its way into her stomach.
Unfortunately, she was pretty sure her tolerance was built enough that one shot wouldn’t help her too much.
Hope took her hand and pulled her toward the back of the club. They entered a dark hallway where the music was marginally quieter.
At the end of the hallway was a doorway blocked by another rope and guard. Guard seemed like a strange word, but he was too small to really be called a bouncer and gave off a vibe too scary to be anything less than a guard.
Hope nodded toward him. “Vlad is through there,” she whispered.
Gena followed the tall woman as they walked toward the doorway. A sense of foreboding filled her as they got closer. Something wasn’t right.
They stopped, and Hope said, “We would like to speak with Vlad.”
She didn’t sound scared. Gena tried to push her fear away as the guard looked them over. “State your business,” he said.
Gena looked at Hope, but Hope kept her eyes staring straight ahead at the guard’s chest. Gena noticed Hope was avoiding eye contact. “We seek Vlad’s knowledge.”
The guard pressed his lips together in disapproval. “State your business,” he repeated.
Hope stood her ground. “Our business is personal and for Vlad’s ears only. We need to speak with him.”
The guard lowered his head to look into Hope’s eyes, but she looked away. The guard looked to Gena then. His gaze connected to hers, and Gena felt the world slip away from her. All she could focus on were his eyes staring into hers. “Why are you here?” he asked again.
Gena broke her eyes away from his and looked to Hope. Hope stared at her with surprise. “Um,” stuttered Gena. “We need to talk to Vlad.”
The guard straightened his back and gave them a pissed-off look. “The two of you had better get the fuck out of here.”
Gena flinched at the language but didn’t argue. She started to back away, but Hope reached out and grabbed her arm. “You need to talk to Vlad,” she said.
Gena agreed but didn’t see how that was happening with the guard staring
at them the way that he was. She started to say so when Hope suddenly punched the guard in the nose with some sort of jewelry wrapped around her hand.
“Go!” she yelled.
Before Gena had a chance to think, her feet took her past the guard, who rushed at Hope. Her heart leaped into her throat and her sense of wrongness increased.
She ran into the room the guard had blocked off. The room was decadently decorated with plush seating against all the walls, and red lights cast an eerie glow in the room.
The most lavish part of the room was a man on a throne-like chair in the middle of the floor. He was dark and exotic-looking, and Gena guessed he was of South American origin based on his appearance alone.
However, there was another man who drew her attention. Though four men surrounded the throne, the first to stand as she rushed in was the one she couldn’t take her eyes off of.
He was beautiful. He had curly blond hair that fell around his face, making him look like an angel. His sharp cheekbones added to his handsomeness and even through the red lights, she could see his eyes were a startling blue.
Now there were five huge men who stared her down, and she tried to find the words to explain why she was here. She opened her mouth to speak when a sharp burning went through her arm.
She gasped at the pain, but when she looked down, her arm looked fine. Then more pain shot through her stomach. She grabbed her middle and tried not to double over from the pain.
She could feel the curious glances on her, but she had no idea what was happening. The pain came from the same spots Ryan had pushed the knife into her body. She needed to get the hell away from this place.
Abruptly as she’d burst into the room, she backed out of it. Hope was still fighting with the guard, but didn’t look as if she was winning. Gena grabbed her arm and grunted out through the pain, “We have to leave.”
The guard seemed to agree because he let Hope go and pushed her down the hallway. It didn’t look as though he pushed too hard, but Hope slid across the floor a good fifteen feet. Another pain ripped through Gena.
