I tear my eyes from the wall and my mind from fantasies of what life would have been like if my dad had stuck around. It’s pointless to get lost in musings anyway, because in the end, it’ll only bring me pain. I’m better off embracing the cold hard facts. Dad left, Mom died, and I got stuck with a life of lies and enemies I never knew I had.
Turning my back on the mural, I take in the rest of the space. Lights have been brought in and set up around the room in various locations, their cords crisscrossing over the floor. There’s an old dusty area rug surrounded by a well-worn red sofa, and two brown leather club chairs. In the center of the rug are two milk crates with a large dry erase board laid over it, acting as a makeshift table.
I spin in a circle. “No offense, but your command center is kind of shabby and a bit of a letdown. I was totally expecting more than this.” I wave out my hands, indicating the space around us. “There aren’t even any ghosts here.”
Sebastian’s response is nothing more than an amused smile and a raised eyebrow at my ghost comment. He nods his head for me to follow him; the anger clouding his eyes a moment ago gone, replaced with something more playful. Guess he’s over his everybody has stuff under the surface issue and we’re moving on, which is fine by me. Things are awkward enough as it is without any more added tension.
I follow him through a set of double doors that take us into a hallway. Things are dingy here too. Cords run up the walls and along the ceiling, supplying the dangling bulbs overhead with power. I slow down as we pass a pair of bathrooms, my gaze caught up in more graffiti. The door to the ladies has a spray-painted portrait of Marilyn Monroe’s famous scene from The Seven Year Itch where she’s holding the skirt of her white dress down against the steam blowing up from a subway grate. The men’s bathroom has no door. Off its hinges, it lays propped up against the inside wall. I’m tempted to lean it back to see if there’s something painted there too, but Sebastian is already most of the way down the hall. I speed up my pace, catching a quick glimpse of an old office in disarray, and what looks to be a small kitchen/break room area in my haste.
Sebastian waits for me near the end of the hall. When I reach him he opens a door to a small janitor’s closet. There’s nothing in it except for bare walls, a broom, and a mop in an empty bucket. He motions me forward.
I shoot him my have you lost your mind look. “You want me to go in there?”
“Afraid?”
I roll my eyes in answer, despite my rapidly beating heart and plunging stomach filling with conflicting reasons as to why I should be afraid. One: I barely know him—even if everything in me tells me I can trust him. Two: I don’t know nearly enough about chasers. Three: his base of operations looks like a place kids would go to get drunk and act dumb before they’re murdered horror movie style by some psycho in a mask. Four: he’s asking me to get into a small dark closet. And lastly, number five: our connection to each other, which might possibly be the biggest reason of all. The longer we’re near each other, the closer I want to get. I don’t trust myself, or the way I feel when I’m around him, including my ability to make good decisions. “Asking me to go into a tiny dark closet is weird. And creepy,” I add on for extra emphasis.
“It leads to something I want to show you.” Other than amusement at my expense, I can’t read his face. It leaves my mind alternating between horror scenarios and a game of Seven Minutes In Heaven I once played during a party in eighth grade. It was in Molly Roth’s basement and Taylor got the bright idea to suggest the game. She wanted a kiss from Zack Way, but I ended up stuck in a closet with him instead. We spent the whole time staring at each other in the dark, he on one side of the closet, me on the other. I wasn’t about to get my first kiss from the boy my bestie was crushing on.
I don’t know if I can stay on the other side of the closet with Sebastian.
I take a step back. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I reach for my phone before remembering I’d zipped it up in my backpack… which I left in Sebastian’s car. Crap.
He takes my hand. “Trust me.”
“If you want me to trust you, then tell me why you want me to go into a closet.”
“And ruin the surprise? What fun would that be?” He smiles mischievously. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll be going in there with you.”
Heat warms my cheeks and I curse it furiously within my head. Stupid teenage hormones making my stupid face go as red as my hair all the freaking time when he’s around. “Uuummm, it doesn’t, no. Just tell me why we have to go in there.”
“Would you believe me if I said it’s a secret entrance?”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” He steps into the closet, my hand still held in his. “Come on.” His expression is playful, easing my mind a little regarding the horror scenarios, but doing absolutely nothing for the Seven Minutes In Heaven part. I have to admit though, I am oddly curious to know if he’s really telling the truth about a secret entrance.
“I better not regret this.”
I step into the confined space, the tips of my Chucks pressed against the tips of his motorcycle boots. We’re close enough I can feel his breath tickle my face. He leans to the side, grabs the doorknob, and pulls the door closed, plunging us into total darkness. My heartbeats immediately respond by thudding dangerously fast within my chest. I’m half afraid he’ll hear it, and even more afraid I want him to.
He turns us around in the small space, so his back is now facing the door and mine is facing the wall. He reaches past me, his body leaning into mine as he whispers, “Discrimen accipio.” As if he knows I’m about to ask, he translates. “I accept the risk.”
The room illuminates in shades of blue and I glance over my shoulder to see symbols taking shape down the center of the wall and along the outer edges. I turn back to find him looking down at me. The exact same way he looked at me in my room before he threw caution to the wind and kissed me. The sound of my swallow echoes loudly in my ears, but he doesn’t seem to hear it at all as he twists a section of my hair around his finger before tucking it behind my ear. His eyes shift downward, his lips parting. My breaths come faster, my mind warring over what I want to do and what I should do. Meet him head on, or deny him because it’s not right to make out with guys in closets while I’m dating someone else.
The blue light behind me momentarily intensifies, giving way to a brighter light filling the room in blinding white as the wall pulls apart to reveal a spacious elevator.
I take it as a sign and move a tiny step away. “I guess you were right about the secret entrance.”
He leads me onto the elevator where we stand side by side. The edge of his hand brushes against mine, the space between us charged like how it gets right before a lightning storm on a hot summer day. It takes all my concentration to stay where I am. I look over to find him staring at me.
The doors close and the elevator moves downward quickly, giving me a weird feeling of weightlessness in the pit of my stomach. He’s still staring so I start talking before one of us does something stupid. “So, what am I going to find when we reach the bottom?”
“Probably Chester.”
“Chester?”
“He’s the head of security at this particular center—the only security, actually. You may also run into a few other chasers checking in or whatnot. Possibly Gavin, if he decides to grace us with his presence. He’s the head honcho here. When he’s around,” he adds under his breath. I get the feeling there’s tension between Sebastian and this Gavin guy.
The elevator comes to a stop a few seconds later. Sebastian straightens his posture, his hands held behind his back. “Oh, by the way, technically you’re not supposed to be here since you’re not a chaser. How good are you at acting?”
“What?” Seriously? He drops this on me now.
The doors open up to a situation I’ve only had a half a second to prepare for. I’m so going to kick Sebastian’s ass when we get out of here.
With an it’s too late to run smile on hi
s face, he places his hand on my lower back, leading me out into the hallway toward a guard’s station directly across from us. He leans on his arms over the tall counter top. “Hey Chester, how’s it going? Anything exciting I should know about?”
Chester hits a button on his PlayStation remote, pausing whatever game he’s playing. His smile is genuine as he stands and clasps Sebastian’s hand. “Bas. Haven’t seen you here in a while. How’s it going with the vampire case in the city?” He doesn’t look at all like how I pictured a security guard would look. I was picturing some kind of uniform with a name badge and a baton clipped to his belt, not holey jeans, combat boots, and a red flannel. I imagined him watching security feeds over multiple monitors too, not playing video games.
“Oh, you know, just working the angles until I figure out my next move. I sort of blew any chance at anonymity early on.” Sebastian’s eyes shift in my direction.
“Hope it was for a good reason, since your job will be three times as hard now,” Chester says.
“It was.” The way Sebastian looks at me makes me want to blush, but it also makes me feel guilty because I was his reason. He blew any cover he could have had when he saved my life at Night Life.
“Who’s your friend?” Chester shifts his eyes in my direction. I involuntarily suck in a breath. The pupil of his right eye is blown out; giving it the appearance it’s bleeding tendrils into his iris. I want to look away to not be rude, but can’t. It’s mesmerizing in an extremely disturbing way.
Sebastian kicks my foot, freeing me from the sickening allure of Chester’s eye. “This is Ana. She’s a chaser visiting from London who’s offered to help me on the vampire case. We’re going to hit up the library then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“What hair?” Chester runs a hand over his head. What blonde hair he does have is shaved close to the scalp.
“Ha ha.” Sebastian jabs his thumb in Chester’s direction. “This guy thinks he’s funny, but really he has no idea how to tell a joke.”
Chester lays down a clipboard and pen. “She’ll need to sign in and list what center she’s with.”
“No problem.” Sebastian slides the clipboard down the countertop in front of me, then rests his back against the counter. He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Make up a last name and write thirteen for the center number.” I do what he says and when I’m finished, he hands it back to Chester.
“Welcome to center twenty-two, Ana Grace. Don’t let this one hassle you too much while you’re here visiting the states.”
“Believe me, I don’t plan on it,” I say in my best British accent. Hopefully, all the Doctor Who episodes I’ve watched have paid off and I sound convincing.
Sebastian grabs my hand, pulling me down the hall behind him. Once we’re safely around the corner, I punch him as hard as I can in the arm.
“Ow, what was that for?” He rubs his bicep. His eyes light up, a playful smile forming on his face.
“I think you know what it’s for. Thanks for putting me on the spot like that. You could have given me more of a warning.”
“I could have, but that wouldn’t have been any fun.” That remark there gets him another arm punch.
“Ow.” This time I’m the one who smiles.
“Nice British accent, by the way. Very authentic. I was impressed.” His eyes roam up and down my body from head to toe. “It was kind of hot, actually. Say something else in British.”
I shove him to the side and he laughs.
“So where’s this library you mentioned in your secret base of operations?” I ask in my normal voice.
He nudges into me. “So no British accent then?” he teases.
I roll my eyes, suppressing the urge to smile as I continue down the hall like I know where I’m going. He finds it all to be hilarious. I have a notion to punch him again, but instead, I walk a little faster.
He grabs the back of my shirt and pulls. I stumble back, crashing right into him, and end up stomping down on his foot. Off balance now himself, he misses a step and trips, taking me along with him. We both dance around, trying not to fall. I end up with my back pressed against the wall and him pressed against me, the both of us breathing heavily. Every single synapse in my brain fires off proximity alerts, making every single inch of my being super aware of how close he is, along with every point in which we touch. His fingers clutch around the back of my shirt, which is now twisted to the side so his hand is more on my hip. His other hand is flat against the wall, just above and off to the side of my head, while both of my hands are fisted around the fabric of his shirt, lifting it halfway up his stomach. He’s got incredible abs. He must work out like all the time. I shift my gaze upward, meeting his. I know that look.
He doesn’t make a move even though I can tell he really wants to. We stand there suspended, caught in each other’s stare. Time passes by slowly, the world fading away, leaving us in our own little bubble of what will happen next. I know what I want to happen. I can’t deny it. This thing between us, this connection, it’s so strong. But before anything can happen, I need to be completely free to make the choice and right now I’m not.
I let go of Sebastian’s shirt and push him back. “I can’t.”
“I know, and I won’t push you. Whatever happens next between us will be your choice.” He straightens his shirt and I straighten mine. He takes my hand, leading me to the door a few feet a head of us. He opens it up with a bow and a wave of his hand. “After you.”
17
The lights kick on the moment I pass the threshold. A large room spreads out in front of me. Everything is white. The walls. The floors. The two chairs directly in the center of the room, equipped with harness belts. It makes me think of a padded room in an asylum where horrible experiments take place. The only things we’re missing are the straight jackets. Maybe they’re in the booth in the corner, the only other thing in the room. Through the glass, I can make out a row of white cabinets against the wall and what looks like a computer station.
“Uh, this doesn’t look like a library.”
“That’s because it’s not.”
“What is this place?”
“A simulation room.”
“A what?”
“Stay right here.” Without another word of explanation, Sebastian enters the booth in the corner. He pulls out two pairs of thick black goggles, two weird looking black jackets, and two sets of black gloves from the cabinets. Holding it all in the crook of his arm, he turns toward the computer area and types something in. Closing the booth door behind him, he strides toward me. “Put this on.” He hands me a jacket. I give him a questioning stare. “Just do it.”
“Why not.” I put on the form-fitting jacket, zipping it up to my jaw. He then hands me a pair of the gloves. I put those on too as he watches me, an indecipherable look in his eyes, like he’s trying hard not to show any emotion. It’s kind of creepy—just like this room.
“Now what?”
He leads me over to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Trepidation crawls over my skin, but I do as he says. He pulls the straps of the harness up over my arms, fastening it across my chest, his movements careful to not touch anything private. I respect that. Once I’m all strapped in, he plugs in a series of wires into various ports in the jacket and gloves. Several wires hang from the leg rest at the bottom of the chair, making me wonder if there’s supposed to be matching pants to the jacket.
Sebastian whispers an incantation under his breath, igniting blue symbols to illuminate over the goggles in his hand. It must be enchanted like the ring he wears.
A hint of guilt flickers within his gaze as he slides the goggles down over my eyes. Before I can wonder why, I gasp. A dark alley lies before me with tall buildings rising up from the sides. A misty rain falls from the night sky, streaks of lightning, illuminating the dark. I turn my hand over, feeling the rain against my skin. I’m dressed in my normal clothes, no trace of the jacket or gloves Sebastian had me put on. I look around awestruck
. What is this place? If it’s some sort of virtual reality, it’s extremely convincing.
A cat jumps down from one of the fire escapes, landing with a loud thud on a metal trashcan lid. It darts through the puddles, splashing water onto my shoes as it runs down the alleyway. Everything seems so real. I bet it would be really easy to forget it’s not after a while. I run my hand along the bricks of the building beside me, feeling the coldness of the rain along the rough edges against my hand.
“This is trippy.”
“What do we have here?” a deep voice whispers on the wind. It sends chills racing up and down my spine. I search the darkness, my gaze landing on a figure emerging from the shadows. He smiles, the gleam of his long teeth flashing white in the fleeting illumination of lightning, darting across the sky.
I look around for Sebastian, but he’s not here. I’m alone.
My heart shoots up into my throat. “You’re not real,” I whisper.
“I’m real enough.” Suddenly in front of me, his fingers wrap around my neck. I feel every bit of it. Clawing at his hands, I struggle for air. He leans in. “Now for some fun.” He flings me to the side. My back hits the brick wall. Very real pain courses through every inch of my torso as I crash to the pavement.
I force myself to get up, despite feeling like my spine has been shoved to the front of my ribcage. I lean against the wall, catching my breath. The vampire watches me with glowing green eyes. A sinister smile, stretches across his face, as the rain falls harder. I quickly glance up and down the alleyway, looking for the best way out, or at least for a weapon to use.
Of Blood & Magic: Blood Descent Book 1 Page 19
