“Oh no, no, no.” I slammed my full weight against the mausoleum door, but it only creaked bad-temperedly.
One long gray leg thrust itself through the thorns. The Dark Spirit’s growl dissipated into high, hissing laughter. Its right arm broke through.
“Close!” I screamed at the door, which moved with all the momentum of a cranky glacier. “Close, damn you! Door, I order you to close!”
Suddenly, remarkably, it did. I just had time to see the Plague Lord scream in fury and disintegrate into a cloud of flies that hurtled forward like buzzing black bullets—and then the door boomed shut. I bolted it in a hurry. By some miracle, I’d bought myself time…by locking myself in a tomb.
I checked my phone. No bars in Crispin’s little cave of horrors.
“Fuck!” I kicked over another plate of food, and a yellow gecko scrambled out from underneath. I tensed as it sat on its hind legs and regarded me, head tilted to the side. Great. I’d come here searching for clues about Crispin’s plans with the Plague Lords, but instead had I stumbled upon his army of dark mo’o?
“Army? Wait.” I began to lift the bowls of food. Mo’o of all colors and sizes scrambled free from beneath every one. They chittered at me and then fled through a small crack in the mausoleum’s corner. I knelt on my knees and stared through the crevice longingly, wishing I was small enough to follow.
Suddenly an eerie green eye glared through the crack, and I fell back, yelping. I seized the nearest rock and rolled it across the entrance, shoulders trembling. This was it. I was so screwed. It was only a matter of time before Fly Man found a tiny hole to buzz through.
The Plague Lord began to mix up his efforts to get into the tomb. There was horrible scratching at the door here, repeated thumping on the mausoleum roof there. I swiveled about the chamber, unable to pinpoint where he’d attack next.
Then my shoulder began to throb under familiar pulsing waves of pain, and something inside of me snapped.
“Do your worst!” I screeched at my faceless assailant. “Trust me, I’ve already been through whatever messed-up fuckery you throw at my body! You better believe that when I find out how to hurt you, I am going to do so much worse!”
The relentless scratching ceased for a moment so the Plague Lord could let out a long, rattling laugh.
I marched over to Crispin’s desk and began pulling out drawers. I couldn’t let some evil Dark Spirit, no matter how creepy he was, dissuade me from my mission. My gloved fingers hurriedly rifled through documents. Most of the desk’s contents looked like boring legal paperwork, but there was one locked box made of dead coral that looked important, so I took it. Crispin also had an old musty manuscript written in Hawaiian. My forehead crinkled. The CEO of Kalani Resorts hadn’t seemed interested in the language before.
I’d stuffed my purse to the brim, and yet still, my gaze wandered over to the mysterious bed lying behind the curtain. Damn my curiosity. Snooping around the boss’s king-sized cot… Consider this my notice of resignation. I gripped the velvety curtain and jerked it back. Nothing except for a sea of covers. I dropped to my belly and squinted underneath. The mattress was sagging heavily, enough for me to make out a bulging square shape inside it.
I grabbed Rafael’s Swiss Army knife from my purse. By now my brother had learned that anything he asked me to hold for the night would turn into a long-term loan. Wriggling under the bed, I rolled over on my stump and slashed a few times at the fraying mattress. That was all it took before the fabric gave way, showering me with a cloud of dust and manuscripts. I coughed as an ancient, rancid smell flooded my nostrils.
The manuscripts certainly weren’t made of paper or even parchment—the texture felt like some sort of dried fish skin, possibly a shark’s. I squinted. I didn’t recognize these strange symbols. All I could tell was that they’d been written with dark, crimson ink…the color of blood.
Suddenly the candles went out. I froze, clutching the shark hide manuscripts as the bed shifted above me. Something or someone slipped out from beneath the mountain of covers. I held my position in the eerie quiet, my limbs stiff with fear.
Then a hand latched around my ankle and yanked me out.
I caught a glimpse of glowing green eyes floating amidst the blackness, and my heart jumped to my throat. I’d forgotten that there had been more than one Dark Spirit on the beach that night. They operated in pairs. One was the Lord of Tumors.
The other, the Lord of Jaundice, was locked inside the tomb with me.
Chapter 10: The Blood Drinker
~Tica~
I immediately lashed out with all the fury of a captive octopus. The hand morphed in response, growing a set of claws that sank into my skin, drawing blood.
“Be still, Tica Dominguez,” the thing whispered in my ear, its coarse white hair tickling my face. Its leathery body dragged across mine like a heavy snake while its frighteningly sharp claws scraped my stump. “Always you run, run from Ahalpuh and Ahalgana. Not smart for a sick little girl. You should take time to…rest.”
I gathered up my breath in my chest. Time to test a crazy theory. The candles, the evening time, the mo’o, and all of these offerings left to no one… Crispin’s mausoleum had plenty of similarities to the set-up Jinho had erected in my room the night we entered Eve. If Crispin was a vampyre who had to escape somewhere during the day, then why not through a doorway into the spirit world? Things didn’t act normally here. That mausoleum door had listened to me.
“Candles, light!” I cried out.
The Dark Spirit of Jaundice chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t want to do that.”
Flames sprang up in a ring of fire. I beheld the shadowy creature hunkered over me. She was a gaunt, skeletal thing with sagging skin and yellowed nails. Her few wisps of hair were shock-white and her teeth sprouted unevenly from her gums at all sorts of angles. The sickly eerie green of her eyes had been banished by the light—under the candles’ glow, I could see them as they really were: jaundice yellow and red-streaked, with puss leaking around the edges.
The creature fluttered its ugly spider leg lashes. “Ahalpuh, our little Tica is stunned silent by how beautiful I am.”
The Lord of Tumors, Ahalpuh, quit scratching and stood quite still at the door. “That is no fun,” the demon replied in a low, hollow bass. “Let me in so we can make her scream instead.”
I regained my nerve. “Desk, crush Ahalgana!”
I’d put every last ounce of desperation into the command. The second Dark Spirit, Ahalgana, turned to see Crispin’s two hundred-pound oak desk fly at her head.
I didn’t check to see if it hit. Scooping up my purse and grabbing the most lethal weapon on Crispin’s desk (a stapler), I bolted toward the tomb door. I heard the slow and steady scrape of Ahalgana’s husks of feet as the jaundice demon rose up behind me, and I knew that she had survived and was madder than hell.
Suddenly the door flew open. Both Plague Lords fled. I stared dumb-founded at the last person I expected to see: Secretary Reynolds.
“Tica?” Her beetle-black eyes rose slowly from the overflowing bag on my shoulder to my upraised stapler. “Child, what on earth are you doing in here?”
Yes, the glove didn’t look suspicious at all.
“I’m sorry,” I blabbed. “CEO Summers told me to fetch some paperwork for him, and I got locked in the office and I thought I heard something and got scared…”
“Did he?” Secretary Reynolds’s lips curled. “Well, you must have had plenty of time to fetch these ‘papers’ then. Come. I’m sure he’ll be very anxious to receive them.”
I walked ahead of her suspicious glare, back rigid. The reassuring night air flooded my senses with warmth and sun-ripened flowers. As we rounded the corner, I allowed myself a sigh of relief, grateful beyond words to have escaped from the decrepit darkness of the tomb.
Beneath it lurked dread. I knew their names now: Ahalpuh and Ahalgana, the Lords of Tumors and Jaundice. I could still feel Ahalgana’s snake-skin body slithering acr
oss mine. I could still see those jaundice-shot eyes, nails, and teeth. I ducked my head to keep from gagging.
“Secretary Reynolds, I’m sorry. I know what this looks like—” I turned around and realized I was speaking to no one. Startled, I glanced down. The formidable Secretary Reynolds had dissolved into a pile of geckoes: the captives of Crispin’s tomb. The little mo’o crawled across my slippers as they scattered, but the yellow one paused to regard me.
Immediately I began to shake, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Remember,” Poli’ahu’s voice echoed in my head, “the mo’o are shape-shifters.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, kneeling, “for coming back for me.”
The yellow gecko vibrated in response, and then threw up a key in my hand. I rubbed the bone key between my fingers, recognizing the texture of a vampyre wing shaft.
“You stole this from the real Secretary Reynolds,” I realized. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it back to her. Again: mahalo.”
The gecko chirped at me and then scampered away.
***
My steps quickened when I finally saw Reynolds, the real Secretary Reynolds, standing in a stairwell speaking to someone. She rubbed one scarlet heel against her calf self-consciously while giving a high, girlish laugh that didn’t sound like her.
The second speaker shifted in the shadows. I caught a glimpse of silver-streaked hair: Nik, then. The bone key grew sweaty in my hands. I’d have to sneak it back swiftly. I’d never been so ready to get the hell out of a five-star hotel.
“Look.” Nik extended his hands. “She’s already on the rooftop waiting for me. I swiped her phone. It’ll be over fast.”
“Yes, I know your nickname, Quicksilver.” Secretary Reynolds glanced around warily. “Listen, Nikolaos. Prince Crispin doesn’t want anything to happen to those girls until he finds out what his brother is up to on the islands.”
“That old Crow Prince only wants the cancer girl,” Nik said dismissively. “Personally, I don’t think she’s the Changeling Soul, so I don’t know why he’s wasting his time.”
I stumbled, and Nik’s metallic-haired head whipped around, the depths of his eyes growing more luminous, like paved gold. I pressed against the colonnade until he turned back to Reynolds, but my stomach remained tangled in ugly knots. I didn’t like where this was going…
Reynolds remained oblivious. “Yes, but that is the point: we don’t know. If something happens to her friend, then she will lose faith in us,” she stressed. “I will give you five minutes with the Aolani girl, but then you must return her to the party—alive.”
Nik swooped in to kiss her hand. His lips remained poised over her skin as he murmured, “I knew I could trust your discretion, Mrs. Reynolds.”
“It’s Miss,” she said breathlessly. Nik smirked again and slunk up the stairs. As the night thickened around him, I swore that his shadow lengthened, his jaw extended, and protruding from his gum-line, just barely discernable in the moonlight—fangs.
I rammed into Secretary Reynolds at a full gallop.
“Tica!” She pulled back, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, I ran back from the restroom,” I lied, key successfully dropped back in her pocket. “I didn’t know who to tell, but one of the toilets is flooding.”
“The plumbing decides to go on tonight of all nights?” Reynolds scowled and stalked off. “Set up directions for our guests to the second floor restroom, Tica.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” But the moment her back was turned, I dashed to the elevator and frantically pushed the skylight button. The roof was on the fourteenth floor, but I didn’t know if I’d beat Nik there at the speed he was moving. The elevator door dinged shut behind me, and I fumbled for my phone.
Jinho answered on the second ring. “Tica.”
“How do you kill a vampyre?” I blurted.
“It depends on the type,” he said slowly. “Most die by fire, beheading, or a stake through the heart. Why?”
“You have to help me.” I sagged against the elevator wall, feeling sick. “I broke into Crispin’s office like we planned, but it was guarded by the Plague Lords.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. I heard the question he didn’t say: How are you still alive?
“Get out of there now,” he said finally.
“I can’t.” I watched the glowing numbers ascend one-by-one. “There’s another vampyre here, besides you and Crispin. His name is Nik.”
“Nikolaos Quicksilver.” Jinho recognized the name immediately. “He is an ascendant vampyre, kin to one of my brothers’ wives. Do not engage him.”
I closed my eyes tiredly. “I have to, Jinho. He wants Aolani.”
“Of course Crispin would bring friends. He does not like to be alone.” Amidst Jinho’s silence, the elevator dinged. I was here.
“I cannot get there in time, Tica,” Jinho said finally, “but remember: he does not know that.”
I gapped at the phone after he hung up. Incredible. A single skylight staircase stood between me and a hungry vampyre, and Jinho’s advice was to bluff him.
A gecko’s laugh echoed from the rafters. I squared my shoulders and approached the steps. I wasn’t alone.
Chapter 11: Confrontation
~Tica~
I could see their backs on the far side of the roof, illuminated by the ghostly glow of a bubbling hot tub.
“There are so many stars out tonight,” I heard Aolani say. I crept around the vents toward them.
“Are you cold?” Nik’s low voice murmured in amusement as Aolani leaned in. “We could watch the stars from the water as well.”
Aolani glanced toward the rooftop spa and blushed. “I didn’t even know there was a hot tub up here.”
Nik shrugged, his hand drifting down to caress her shoulder. The steam parted, and through my spirit sight, I realized I could see him clearly for the first time—his grinning fanged skull, his lengthened spine, and that gleaming metallic hair, which had begun to smolder as if catching fire.
“It is a secret shared only with the most special of people.” His lips brushed the bare skin of her shoulder. “You wouldn’t…tell anyone about it, would you, Aolani?”
“Of course not,” she breathed. “Your secret’s safe with…TICA!”
I stood calmly across from them, the hot tub fizzing between us and casting strange shadows across our faces. “Hi, Aolani. Secretary Reynolds is looking for you.”
Nik stepped away from Aolani, but his flaming topaz eyes hardened, carrying no mercy or kindness. “Tica...you are quite diligent. Please let Secretary Reynolds know that Aolani will be down shortly.”
“Yes, please go let her know now.” Aolani glared at me, but I wasn’t leaving this rooftop without her.
“It’s an emergency.” I looked past Aolani to the furious vampyre. “Someone is looking for you, too. You can wait up here for him, if you want. You know he will always find you, wherever you go.”
“What are you talking about, girl?” Nik rasped, and I threw down the black feather. It drifted on the boiling water between us, neither sinking nor disintegrating. I watched the monster wrestle within him, but ultimately, Nik’s fangs clicked back. His face filled with warmth and humanity once more.
“Excuse me, Aolani. An urgent matter has come up.” Nik glided back toward the stairwell, but Aolani grasped for his arm.
“Wait, can I call you?”
“That would not be prudent. I shall be occupied for quite some time.” His amber eyes bore into mine, testing, before the Quicksilver vampyre vanished as if he’d never been there at all.
I stared at the indestructible feather. So, Jinho was indeed revered and feared among his kind. What had Nik called him before? A “prince.”
Something smacked my stump, and I spun around to see a livid Aolani inches from my face.
“What the hell, Tica?” she cried. “That—man—could have solved every single one of my problems! He’s a wealthy tycoon with connections to
CEO Summers! I would have never had to worry about money or my family’s future ever again! Don’t you understand how hard it is to be Hawaiian and not even be able to afford to live here?”
“He only wanted a one night hook-up,” I said, too weary under the burden of the truth. “Don’t do that to yourself, Aolani. Lono cares for you much more—”
“DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME ABOUT LONO! You think Lono and I haven’t had this conversation? The only one Lono is interested in being in a relationship with is his fucking pakalolo!” Aolani gathered up her shawl and shoved past me. “What is wrong with you, Tica? I can’t have Jinho and I can’t have this job, and now I can’t have Nik? You always get everything!”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not anymore. Take the internship, Aolani. It suits you.”
She flipped me off and disappeared back into the darkness of the Punahele. I stood a tiny figure atop the crown jewel of Waikiki, wondering how something that gave off so much light could be so dead inside.
Chapter 12: ‘Aina Becoming
~Tica~
A lime-green gecko with three orange spots on his back peeked at me from the coffee table, head bobbing as it searched for crumbs. This was the second week I’d seen it hanging around the apartment. I flicked the last of my malasada at it and settled back against the sofa. “You’re such a slacker, Mel. You’re supposed to eat roaches and ants. The kitchen is in dire need of your services.”
Mel slunk away up the lamp post. I laughed and returned to studying the manuscripts I’d swiped from Crispin’s office. The creepy shark skin files were still a mystery to me. The coral box remained locked, too, but I hoped another one of Jinho’s feathers could remedy that. The Hawaiian manuscript should have been the easiest to figure out, but the person I trusted to interpret it wasn’t speaking to me currently. Scowling, I resumed looking up the contact info for my fourth grade Hawaiian teacher.
“What the hell kind of class is this for?” Rafael strode over and held up one of the shark skin manuscripts to the light. He licked his finger and touched the ink. “Did you steal these from a shipwreck or something? Is this written in blood?”
Year of the Boar- Tica Page 7
