by Alisha Basso
“I understand, so, now what? Do we suit up with all the anti-monster weaponry? Are you going to school me in the ways of The Force?” I was making jokes. What was wrong with me?
He smiled. “Well yeah, sort of. I do need to tell you what myths to cleanse from your moth-eaten brain first.”
I laughed. It felt good to exchange some banter. I hated feeling ignorant, and this made me feel like we had already won.
“The first thing you must know is that nothing is immortal,” he said. “A being may live for centuries, but if their head departs from their shoulders, it’s over. Remember that when a vampire starts spouting off about immortality. Crosses will buy you time with ghouls and vamps, and maybe do some damage, but it won’t kill them. Weres are allergic to silver, so you can use anything made of pure silver to defend yourself. If you run into a demon, well, you’d better pray, because that is the only thing that’s going to buy you time. They can be killed; we just don’t know how yet.”
I couldn’t help it. “How do I kill a warlock?” I asked, watching him carefully.
His nostrils flared a bit, but he recouped instantly. “I’m not sure. I know that water is a huge myth. I guess they die pretty much like regular people.”
I patted his knee in mock relief. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Lucian spent the next hour regaling me on the finer points of genocide. I took mental notes and occasionally threw out a witch or warlock question when he “mistakenly” omitted them.
THIRTEEN
Darkness filled the corners of my small cottage. Our discussion was long over and we were watching Resident Evil, giving the cops more time to do their thing at Ann’s.
Lucian was lying on my couch while I rocked back and forth in my grandmother’s creaky rocking chair. The sound was soothing, even with the carnage of bloodthirsty zombies being blown up on TV. I loved the movie; Lucian seemed to like it as well.
“I love those dogs,” I pointed at the TV, “that is, when they’re not covered in slime and trying to eat people.” The dogs, Dobermans, were currently getting their asses kicked by Alice. So cool.
“I’m not a real dog person,” Lucian said. “I prefer cats.”
That reminded me of the sweet kitty I awoke to earlier that morning.
“Speaking of cats, what’s your cat's name?” I stopped rocking.
Lucian sat up quickly. “You’ve seen Puck? He doesn’t usually like people. He tends to hide around strangers.”
“Puck? That’s a cute name. Shakespeare?” I walked to the couch, sitting close to him, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
He smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I thought it fit. He’s pretty spunky.”
Could Puck be Lucian’s familiar? I was getting obsessed. I was pretty sure I knew what he was, that I had him. Now I just had to figure out what to do about it. And at the present time, I was doing nothing. He was my help tonight, and Ann’s safety came before any gripes I had about trust and honesty. Which lately, I didn’t have much room to gripe about.
The clock on my cable box read seven pm. Lucian sprang from the cushions with way too much energy and strode into the kitchen. I followed him slowly, wondering what he was doing.
“We need to go. Can you do something about our supplies?” he said, while reaching for my refrigerator. “Don’t you eat? This is disgraceful.” His face was contorted with shock.
I stepped up behind him. The refrigerator was empty. Nothing, nada, zip. It was, however, very clean.
“I eat. In fact, I had breakfast just this morning.” I smiled sweetly.
Lucian rolled his eyes. “Well, I haven’t eaten enough. And I won’t be very effective on an empty stomach.” He grabbed my arm. “We’re leaving.”
I let him drag me outside like a rag doll. I was too tired to argue. He opened my door and watched me get in and then quickly got in beside me. I felt like crap and when I pulled the visor down I felt like shit. The mirror was ruthlessly cruel, because no way could I look this horrible. My reflection was literally frightening.
My personal tornado as well as the barfing had endowed me with a bedraggled, sickly appearance. My cheeks looked hollow and my long hair was a rat’s nest. I turned to him. He still looked pretty good, considering he was blown around too. At least he got to keep his breakfast.
“This is unacceptable,” I whined. “I can’t go anywhere looking like this. People will think you’ve taken pity on a poor, destitute hag!”
“You look fine. Just tie your hair back.”
He reached over and opened the glove compartment. Pulling out a small blue box, he removed the lid to reveal a pile of rubber bands. He took one and slicked his own hair back, wrapping the band around it and settling it low on his neck.
He looked at me and I blew out an appreciative breath. His features were even more striking with his hair out of the way. His sharp jawbone was the personification of sexy, and made even better by the light dusting of golden stubble that wasn’t there this morning. He was a rugged, woodsy, sexy man. I inwardly sighed, turning my eyes from him. He didn’t need to know how he affected me.
I grabbed a rubber band, looking at it in my hand while my eyes moved to my shirt. I noticed the bottom had some splatters of puke on it. Oh hell no! Nope, I’m changing. I grabbed the door handle just as the car began rolling backward.
Shit.
I flipped the mirror up and decided to do something about it in my own way. I wanted to be clean and groomed, nothing special, well, nothing too special. I was sitting by one of the two best looking men in the world. I wasn’t completely bonkers. I focused my mind on my desired look and in an instant, I felt revived, like I had just soaked in a refreshing tub of vanilla water.
My hair was straight and silky. My clothes were different too. I had on a black V-neck sweater that showed a pleasing amount of cleavage, some great feeling jeans and a pair of black high-heeled boots. A thin, very feminine bracelet appeared on my left hand, accentuating the beauty of the ring. When I consulted the mirror again, my face looked one hundred percent better. My color looked healthy and my makeup was perfect.
All of this happened in a matter of seconds, and I knew Lucian hadn’t noticed a thing. This fact was punctuated by the sudden swerving of his car the second he turned to speak to me.
“What did you do?” His voice was an octave higher and I laughed. The look on his face was priceless, like he had just seen a ghost.
“Well, I felt disgusting.” I rationalized, “I had barf on my shirt and I smelled bad. You want me to fix you too?” I asked.
He looked sheepish so I knew it was a yes. I closed my eyes. I pictured him in something casual, but sexy. The car swerved again, and I opened my eyes. Lucian was changed. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a blue button-down shirt. It was slightly open at his neck, offering just the glimpse of a small V of muscular, golden skin. A tailored, black leather jacket lent an air of casual sophistication. I could smell him. He smelled like clean man and something I couldn’t quite place, but I liked it.
His hair was still back, only it was held back by the same type of leather strip Seth used to bind his hair. Oops, better not tell him that little detail. I couldn’t quite identify his shoes because it was hard to see in the dim car.
“Well?” I asked. “How do you feel?” I smiled at him, already knowing the answer.
“I feel great. I didn’t even notice how grungy I must have been, until I became instantly clean. I didn’t even feel the change. And whose clothes are these?”
“Why, yours of course.” I smiled at him again; soon my cheeks would cramp. “Where to?” My stomach was growling.
“How about a café? We can eat quickly and get to Ann’s sooner.”
“Okay,” I said, instantly thrown back into reality. The thought of facing what happened to Ann made a knot form in my stomach. Suddenly, I wasn’t so hungry.
We arrived at Jodie’s, a small café next to the university. It boasted the best coffee next to Starbucks, and h
ad killer biscuits and gravy. The place was pretty packed and I was worried we might not get a table when we were suddenly mauled by the middle-aged hostess. Thank you, Lucian!
She placed us by the front windows. We had a lovely view of the parking lot and a bricked-in dumpster. She grinned at Lucian, her back to me, asking him what he would like to drink. She then proceeded to take his order to the back. I had to clear my throat loudly for her to remember I was with him.
She smiled stupidly and apologized. I returned her smile, understanding how he could have blown her mind. She was old enough to be his mother and acting like an idiot, but I just shook my head and prayed for a male server.
I got my wish, fancy that! He was very friendly, remembered me and everything. Lucian ordered the Hungry Trucker dinner and I had a chicken sandwich with a tall glass of water.
Lucian’s food disappeared, while mine remained untouched.
“You have to eat something, Grace. You’ll make yourself ill. Not to mention the fact that you’ll be no good in a fight.”
I picked up a cold, floppy fry and slapped it into the ketchup. I groaned and picked up the sandwich instead. I took a huge bite to shut my new dad up, chewed like a mongrel and swallowed. It was like cardboard in my mouth. My lip curled and I pushed the plate away.
“Sorry, but this isn’t going to work. I’ll end up gagging myself.”
I drank my water and decided to eat later. If I were still alive that is. I held my hand up for the check.
The waiter, who looked like a Skippy or a Stuart, came ambling up on very long legs. He smiled at me while handing Lucian the check.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” he asked, flashing a toothy smile.
“No thanks,” I said to his happy, puppy dog face. Wow, to smile like that now.
Lucian reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. His eyebrows rose and his eyes slid up to mine, “This isn’t my wallet.” He opened it up and shook his head. “Well, I guess it is now.”
He looked through its unfamiliar leather interior and smiled.
“It’s nice, Grace. Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.” I said. Yeah, as if I knew! For some reason, my power seemed incredibly concerned with fashion. Lord knows I never would have changed his wallet to match his spiffy black shoes on my own. Who knew my brain was that coordinated? Then again, the ring did match my bra to my panties.
“You ready?” he said as he tossed down two twenties. Our meal couldn’t have been much more than twenty. I smiled at his generosity. I was really starting to go for him. I hoped this warlock thing wasn’t going to be the fly in our ointment.
I rose and we walked out into the chilly night air. He opened the door for me again. His chivalry was automatic, like he was born a hundred years ago. Holy shit…I froze at that thought. Maybe he was! I wouldn’t freak, or worse, ask. I don’t think that would be a very pleasant conversation to have just yet. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about these things; after all, we were meeting up with certain death in about an hour. Perhaps all my superficial problems would be over this very night. Man I was scaring myself.
The ride to Ann’s house was quiet, which was stupid. We should have been planning and re-planning. But, then again, how can you plan for the unknown?
Despite what I’d said to Lucian earlier, I still believed it was Seth who had kidnapped Ann. She had better be okay, or his little minions would be mopping up his liquefied body parts for weeks, er, make that seconds, since they would really have to go too.
We stopped down the street. Her house was black. The yellow crime scene tape made fluttering sounds in the wind. Everyone was gone and things were going just according to plan.
“Should I pull up closer?" Lucian asked softly.
“No, that wouldn’t be a very good idea.” I said, as I looked around the dark neighborhood. “I think we should drive further down the road and park someplace out of the way. Some busybody might spot us and we don’t want any company while we do this. I‘ll just zap us into the house.”
“Are you going to suit us up?” Lucian asked as we got out of the car. We parked about three miles away at the end of a quiet street.
“Sure.” I was thinking he got a bigger thrill out of the instant clothing changes than I did. “Stand back a little; let me think.” I was trying to picture all the things we could meet up with and decided on a stealthy commando look, with lots of accessories. We were changed in seconds.
Lucian was silent as he inventoried his new uniform. He wore black leather, Kevlar and Gortex. Strapped to his legs were several wooden stakes, short silver arrows, a lethal looking bowie knife and a scary assortment of guns.
His arms were equally laden with goodies. His left arm sported a silver flask, the cross on the bottle identifying it as holy water. A small crossbow was slung on his back and his other arm bulged with items I couldn’t quite identify. The look was deadly. It matched the eerie light in his eyes. He stood tall and confident. Then he turned those eyes to me. My heart did a little flutter, and I stifled it fast. No need to go all mushy.
“You look amazing,” he said, letting out a gasp. “No matter what you have on or what you do, you’re always so beautiful.” He took a step toward me.
Uh-oh, I wasn’t expecting him to be the one to go all gaga. The look in his eyes was one I would have loved to see under different circumstances. It was the look a man gave a woman before turning out the lights. The familiar thrill shot up my spine and my stomach felt heavy. Nothing like danger to make you horny, I guess.
“Lucian,” I said a little too breathy, “we need to focus. We can’t exactly do anything right now, anyway.”
“Is that a promise that we can begin something later?” he questioned smoothly. He was sexy and appeared wild and untamed in his new deadly garb. He looked so good. Suddenly my powers with clothing took on new and exciting possibilities. I was breathing harder than I cared to admit, and having a hard time focusing. I folded my arms to keep from pulling him to me. Only then did I notice I had no weapons at all!
“What the hell? I’m not armed at all!” I cried. My unbridled passion was instantly squelched. Like a bucket of ice water right in the face.
Apparently, the bucket missed Lucian because he purred, “You are the weapon, Grace. You don’t need a thing, but that pretty diamond on your finger and your impressive temper.” His words weren’t suggestive, but his tone certainly was.
I was thinking, at that moment, Lucian liked a little danger in his sex, and I was just what the doctor ordered. At least, with him, I didn’t have to worry about getting my throat torn out. Well, at least, I didn’t think I had to worry about that. At this point, I wasn’t taking anything for granted.
“Let’s go,” I said, cutting off my sordid thoughts. “I’m going to try for her kitchen. It doesn’t have any furniture and I’m less likely to crash us through her coffee table.”
I grabbed his hand.
FOURTEEN
Ann’s house still smelled like hell, only slightly less noxious. We were also in total darkness. I didn’t want to risk turning on a light. I knew Ann’s house like the back of my hand so I decided I would lead the way in the dark.
We entered the bedroom, only then did I decide on light. I opened my hand and a pen-sized flashlight appeared. I turned it on and flashed it on the floor. I did not want to stumble and wind up touching the walls. I knew the blood was dry, but it might flake off on my hand, and that was just not okay.
We shut the door. The strange symbols were still there. I looked at Lucian. Holding my breath, I grabbed his arm with my right hand as I raised my left hand to the door.
“Ready?” I asked as my hand hovered above the symbols.
“Whether I am or not, it’s too late. Do you feel it?” His brows were almost touching his hairline.
I faced the door again. A slight tickle was feathering the center of my palm.
“You can feel that?” I asked Lucian, as rel
ief flooded my body. I was secretly worried that this was a single ticket. The tickle slowly spread out, filling my whole hand, then crept its way up to permeate my entire body. I cringed as I pressed my hand flat to the door. A moment later, we were slowly pulled forward. It felt like being sucked through a wall of Jell-O. I shut my eyes, I was afraid they’d get blinded by goo. The feeling lasted only a few seconds and the next thing I knew, we were through. I looked down at my clothing. Wow, I thought, feeling my arms and face. We were surprisingly clean and dry.
“Where are we?” I whispered, hoping Lucian had a clue. I turned to look at him; he was staring a little slack-jawed. Apparently we were both oblivious.
“This place is over the top,” I whispered, looking around. We were in a warehouse-sized room, decorated in early bordello. The walls were high and draped with long flowing panels of black fabric. The carpet beneath our feet was way too thick and way too red. Large sitting areas were arranged in clusters around the room. The chairs were opulent, upholstered in red velvet. The golden legs were intricately carved.
A massive fireplace took up half of a long wall and was crackling with huge flames. “Hmm, I see they have their very own gateway to hell.” I gestured to the fire. It was tall enough to stand in and wide enough to burn a tree sideways.
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” he said, shifting uneasily. “The air reeks of death. We are in a very bad place.”
Fabulous, I feel so much better now, I thought.
“Thanks for sugar-coating it,” I drawled, shivering at his cool tone. His words scared me, bringing back mental pictures of my poor Ann’s bedroom, the carnage, the blood. I had a very bad feeling about this.
I looked around the dimly lit space and discovered that the light came from dozens of tall torches scattered around the room. Small flames burned inside tulip-shaped holders, which gave the room enough light to see clearly, but at the same time casting grotesque shadows on the walls. It was spooky, gaudy, and darkly beautiful at the same time. I hated it.
