Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2)

by Logan Patricks

  I swallowed hard. I love you Justin, but I need to stop being haunted by you. Every night, when I go to sleep, all I can see is you, burning alive. For me to live again—to stay living—I just need to know that you’ve forgiven me for breaking your heart and forgiven me for getting you killed. Please. Just give me some type of sign. I’ll wait. But in the meantime I promise you that I’ll find the person that lit the match—Calisto—and I’ll take everything away from her. I’ll make that bitch pay for what she did to you.

  Goodbye Justin. I hope wherever you are, you’re happy, and with people that are far more deserving of your love—more than I ever deserved.

  I watched as Beau strolled up to the coffin and kissed the bud of a single red rose that he held in his hand. He whispered a few words, and then allowed the rose to fall from his finger tips and land on top of the coffin. He took a step back and fell in line with the rest of the crowd.

  I turned to Lincoln and smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless, and he returned it with a polite one of his own.

  “I think I’m okay now,” I said.

  “I never said you weren’t,” he replied.

  “I was just…saying goodbye.”

  Lincoln nodded.

  “I never met him before, your friend Justin,” Lincoln said, his eye focused on the coffin. “But I’m sure he was a good guy.”

  I nodded. “He was,” I replied. “He was.”

  Once the service was finished, the sounds of the brass brand erupted again, this time playing the lively tune of O When the Saints.

  The crowd gathered together once more and embraced the music, singing and dancing along, their tears fading away into joy.

  It was a beautiful thing to see, the celebration of a person’s life, even after their passing. I’m sure it was what Justin would have wanted his funeral to be like.

  The congregation sang and danced their way south on the city roads, making their way onto Bourbon Street. We followed along, tailing Beau closely.

  The music continued to play, filling New Orleans with song after song, playing through an eclectic set list consisting of Feel So Good, Rhapsody in Blue, and then finishing with In the Sweet Bye and Bye.

  There was a break in the music and I saw Beau peel away from the main procession. He headed towards a side alley.

  We followed closely behind.

  “Is he expecting us?” I asked.

  Lincoln shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “I don’t think Shadow’s ever met Beau either. All his intel came from a secondary source—one that may or may-not be trustworthy. I’m about fifty percent certain it’s fine though.”

  “Are you guys ever one hundred percent certain of anything?” I asked.

  Lincoln shrugged. “I’m one hundred percent certain that I enjoy the company of beautiful women, especially when they enjoy being subjected to my dirty talk,” he replied. “And I’m one hundred percent certain that if we don’t take a risk here, it’s only a matter of time before we’re the ones being mourned at a funeral.”

  I shrugged. “Well, here’s hoping Beau’s nothing short of a trustworthy gentleman.”

  We turned the corner of the alleyway, only to see Beau leaning against a brick wall, arms crossed, one hand holding his red trumpet, and the other one holding a gun.

  He looked at us with his penetrating jade eyes and grinned.

  “Well isn’t this a slice of pie,” he said, pointing the gun at us. “I seem to have found myself a couple of fans. Not to sound ungrateful but if you’d kindly reach for the sky that would be much appreciated. Then maybe we can find out what I can do for you.”

  He looked at me and smiled deviously.

  “But if we can’t play nice, then allow me to be the first to offer my musical services for your respective funerals.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Shadow

  “I can’t believe you sucker punched me,” Cairo said, pressing the ice bag against the side of his head. “I was already on your side you prick.”

  “Someone needed to win that fight,” I replied, pressing my own ice bag against my cheek.

  The restaurant owner walked over to us, placing plates of steaming food onto our tables. My mouth watered at the wonderful smell of the dim sum dishes, still inside bamboo steamers.

  I was ravenous. I suppose participating in an illegal underground cage fight had worked up my appetite.

  “The usual,” the owner said, a short balding man wearing a large, white apron.

  “Thanks Albert. Looks great, as always,” Cairo replied.

  “My treat this time?” the owner asked.

  Cairo smiled and shook his head. “No man. I’m a regular paying customer. You can keep asking, but I’ll always leave change on the table.”

  The owner nodded. “One day,” he smiled, “You’ll let me treat you.” He looked at the ice pack that was planted against the side of Cairo’s head. “What happened?”

  Cairo, with elbows on the table, pointed at me with his left thumb. “This jack ass over here sucker punched me,” he sighed. “I lost my first fight because he cheated.”

  “Oh?”

  “In all fairness I had the fight won already,” I replied.

  “You don’t know that man,” Cairo argued. “For the entire fight, you were whining to me about listening to you, and when I finally did, you fucking cold-clocked me. Cheap man, that was just cheap.”

  “It was either you or me, and I don’t think we’re at that stage yet where I’m ready to lay on my back for you.”

  The restaurant owner looked at us, puzzled, before deciding to take his leave. “Enjoy the food,” he said.

  We were the only ones sitting in the restaurant. It was a perfect time to get down to business.

  “Do you want to know the truth about that night at the Inferno?” I asked as I grabbed my set of chop sticks and snatched up the fattest shrimp dumpling on the table.

  “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”

  I opened my mouth, the dumpling dangling at the end of my chopstick. I immediately felt pain shoot up the side of my cheek, where Cairo had landed one of his punches.

  Chewing hurt even worse.

  “How’s the food?” Cairo asked.

  “Can’t enjoy it like I want to,” I said, pressing the icepack against the side of my cheek while I chewed slowly. “Hurts like hell.”

  Cairo stared at me blankly, before replying, “Good.”

  I leaned back in my chair and exhaled.

  “I don’t enjoy telling long-winded stories so I’ll get straight to the point,” I said. “Calisto’s a power hungry psychopath. She murdered my parents because she was pissed that she wasn’t getting any attention, and then plotted for over thirteen years to destroy the Midnight Society. Abraham, James, Donald, Lucien, and your dad were all murdered by her. None of us saw it coming.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying? It seems to come natural for you Midnight Society motherfuckers.”

  “Who benefitted the most out of the death of the Midnight Society, in terms of wealth and power?” I asked. “I’m wearing a ten-dollar hoodie from Target which I purchased on sale. I’m not swimming in green at the moment.”

  Cairo shrugged his shoulders. “I did hear rumblings that Calisto’s started her own organization,” he said, in between bites of a steaming pork bun. “She must be raking in some pretty pennies.”

  “The Revenants,” I replied. “She took the majority of the Midnight Society with her.”

  “And no one chose to stay with you?”

  I shrugged. “I guess they didn’t like how I was running the show.” I paused for a moment. “During that bullshit celebration where I was to choose my wife, I ended up selecting a citizen—an outsider to the Midnight Society.”

  Cairo raised a brow. “Get out of here.”

  I nodded.

  He started laughing. “Oh man, those rich bitches must have shit their pants. I would have loved to have seen the look on all th
eir smug faces.”

  “They weren’t happy,” I agreed, “Which is probably why they sided with Calisto.”

  Cairo reached for another pork bun. “This girl must have been pretty special for you to select her.”

  I paused. What good was it telling him that the reason I selected Aria was because Calisto had mind-fucked me for lord knows how long.

  “So where’s she now?” Cairo asked.

  “I left her back in the States,” I said. “Lincoln’s watching her for now.”

  Cairo shook his head. “Man, why are you so backwards?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you’re her man, it’s your responsibility to protect her, not Lincoln, who has a hard time keeping his pants on by the way.”

  “Lincoln wouldn’t,” I stated.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” I stated with finality.

  Cairo raised both hands in a backing-off gesture. “Okay. I was just playing devil’s advocate.”

  “Don’t.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as we both picked up our chopsticks and concentrated on the food again.

  “You love her?” Cairo asked.

  “I thought I did.”

  “Not anymore?”

  I glared at Cairo. “Fuck, I don’t know. Why do you care? I haven’t seen you in over seven years and suddenly you want to talk about love?”

  Cairo shrugged. “It sure beats talking about dead fathers.”

  I had to agree with him.

  Cairo reached for the last pork bun and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

  “So what do you need from me,” he asked, still chewing his food.

  “Reiko.”

  He looked at me, stunned for a second, before shaking his head.

  “No idea where she is man,” he replied. “I haven’t seen her in over four years.”

  I sighed. “Let’s not play this game.”

  “As I said, don’t know where she is,” Cairo repeated. “What do you need her for anyways?”

  Cairo was a terrible liar.

  “She’s the best hacker in the world,” I replied. “With her help, I can hit the Revenants where it really hurts—the money.”

  “No kidding,” he said, feigning surprise as his eyes darted away from my gaze, “Reiko ending up as a hacker.”

  “The only chance I have getting to Calisto is through Reiko, and no one can find her. She’s a ghost.”

  “She might not even be in Hong Kong you know,” Cairo pointed out.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied. “You two sleep in the same bed every night.”

  Cairo leaned back in his chair and sighed.

  “How is she taking James’ death?” I asked.

  “Why can’t you all just leave us alone?”

  “We did leave you alone,” I replied. “For over seven years Brevin left his only son alone, knowing full well that he was here in Hong Kong, playing house with James Takeshi’s only daughter.”

  Cairo didn’t reply.

  “Fucking selfish, that’s what you are,” I said.

  He slammed a heavy fist down onto the table, which startled the mild-mannered restaurant owner standing at the cash register, counting the day’s take.

  “I’m selfish?” Cairo cried out. “My dad never gave a shit about me. The only time he talked to me was when he was yelling at me. He always treated me like an idiot.”

  “That’s because you were an idiot.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You disappointed him,” I said.

  “Why? Because I couldn’t get straight A’s at the Academy, like you, Calisto, or Reiko could? Fuck, the number of times he compared me to the three of you…”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Oh, then surely it must be my love life he’s disappointed with,” Cairo said, his voice laced with spite and sarcasm. “A black man falling in love with a Japanese girl—too scandalous for his old school tastes.”

  I shook my head and laughed in a mocking fashion. “Cairo, he made peace with it years ago. He just wanted you to come back home. James wanted his daughter back too.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Cairo said. “James threatened to kill me, calling me a black-skinned bastard.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not defending their racial prejudices. At the time, both your dad and James were being stupid. But after the two of you ran away together, they realized their mistakes. They both lived with the idea of their families uniting together. What they couldn’t live with was not having their family whole again.”

  Cairo sat there in silence, my words slowly sinking in.

  “You two were selfish,” I said. “Fucking selfish. You left at the worst time too, when your families needed you the most. The war with the Ascension left your sister in a vegetative state, and it practically killed Brevin. He needed you there to help him look after her, but you abandoned your responsibilities as an older brother—as a man of the family—instead choosing to run off and play house with Reiko.”

  “It’s not like that,” Cairo said defensively. “I just couldn’t stand seeing Dinah like that. She was my little sister man.”

  “Because it was hard for you to see Dinah, you abandoned her and left Brevin to look after her by himself? As I said before, you were fucking selfish.”

  “You have no idea how hard it was for us,” Cairo said. “Reiko and I were both grieving. Reiko had lost her mother during the war against Elias Rose and I watched Dinah become an empty husk. It was through that grief that we found each other. We needed each other. But our dads saw our relationship as an absolute abomination, going so far as to threaten to disown us. So what other choice did we have? We left. If we had stayed behind, it would have never worked out between us. The Midnight Society would have ruined it, like it ruins everything else it touches.”

  “They realized their mistake,” I said. “They tried to contact you but you both ignored them.”

  Cairo shrugged. “Like I said, we moved on from it.”

  “You’d never come back to see them?”

  He shook his head. “I was going to come back, after we were married and had a kid. Maybe when they saw we had started a family, they’d accept us. But I guess it’s all too late now.”

  I didn’t respond. There was no need to.

  From the dampness around Cairo’s eyes, I could tell I had struck a chord with him.

  “Who’s looking after Dinah now?” he asked.

  “She’s in a home. But she’ll need somebody to keep her company once in a while. She’ll need her big brother.”

  Cairo nodded.

  “How did Reiko take the news of James’ death?” I asked again.

  Cairo shrugged his shoulders. “She’s a strange girl that one. No tears, no anger, nothing. It’s been three weeks and I’ve yet to see any emotional response from her regarding her dad. Maybe she lets it all out when I’m not around or maybe she’s all cried out from when her mom passed. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her cry since.”

  “She’s shut down emotionally,” I said. I knew what that felt like. Every time I thought about my parents—about Calisto murdering them in cold blood—I felt emotionally drained. It was easier burying it in the back of my mind than dealing with the grief upfront.

  “Whenever I try to talk to her about it she just changes the subject,” Cairo said. “I dunno man. I’m just afraid that eventually, she’ll snap and have a breakdown that she’ll never be able to recover from.”

  “From what I remembered about her, Reiko always handled things differently from everyone else. When she’s ready to deal with it, she will.”

  Cairo nodded. “I guess so man. I guess so.”

  “So are you going to take me to her then?”

  Cairo paused for a moment, and then nodded. “She won’t be happy about it. She spent the last eight years hiding. The last thing she wanted was to be found by anyone from her past life, especially by anyone in
volved in the Midnight Society.”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “How did you find me anyways?” Cairo asked.

  “You kidding me?” I asked. “How many six foot five black men are there in Hong Kong? Finding you is like finding a freight train in a field of dandelions.”

  He sighed. “Who else knows about our relationship right now?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “As far as I know, only Lincoln, myself, and of course, Calisto.”

  “I see,” Cairo said. He stared blankly at the food on the table, pushing one of the chopsticks around with his thumb. “How did my dad go out?” he finally asked. I could tell the question had been weighing on his mind for quite a while.

  “He went down fighting,” I lied. “He was a lion, you know that.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Brevin died helpless and screaming while gagged and tied to a chair. He never stood a chance.

  None of us did.

  “Come on, finish up,” I said, gesturing to the rest of the food. “The sooner I speak to Reiko, the closer I get to finding Calisto. And then, I’ll make her pay for her sins—on behalf of all our dead fathers.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aria

  I had seen the eyes of men who wanted me dead. Their gaze was like a flame, thrown onto a lake of oil—a single spark which erupted into an uncontrollable blaze.

  Beau Rouge, did not want me dead. His eyes told me so.

  “Pull the trigger,” I snapped.

  Beau looked at me, wide-eyed, gun pointed straight at me.

  “Life gone sour for you?” he asked. “Because it sure looks like you lack the desire to live.”

  I took a step forward towards him, which made Beau take a step back.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lincoln grin.

  “If you’re going to pull a gun out on me, then you’d best be ready to use it,” I said.

  “The lady’s got a point,” Lincoln added. I noticed he had assimilated the local Louisiana accent into his speech. “How about we share a drink and have a heartfelt chat like a trio of decent human beings.”