“Worcester House. What’s that?”
David gestured with a nod of his head. “It’s an old abandoned house on the north side of town. It’s supposed to be haunted. Kids sneak in there all the time trying to scare each other.”
Lucifer smiled. “How do I get there?”
CHAPTER 5
The Worcester House was an ancient, dilapidated two-story house on the far edge of the city. Its walls were made from a cobbled collection of crumbling brick and brittle wood that had faded and cracked from decades of neglect. Its tall, arched windows had been shattered to dust long ago, and jagged boards rose up from the front porch like the rotten teeth of some great beast with a ravenous underbite.
“So. You going in or not?” asked David.
Lucifer stood with her arms folded across her chest, staring at the house. “Not yet.”
David chuckled. “I told you it was a scary place.”
Lucifer wanted to tell him that, as far as scary places go, the Worcester House was about as terrifying as an ice cream stand. But she had learned to trust her thieving instincts and always wanted to know as much as she could about a building before entering: who’s inside, how many exits and entrances, roof access, basement access, etc. But if she tried to explain that to David, he would only ask more questions.
“I appreciate the ride, David. But I can handle it from here.”
“If you’re here about Gina, I’m staying. I want to know what this has to do with her having the flu.”
His tone of voice made it clear that he was asking a question, but Lucifer ignored it. “Aren’t your friends angry you bailed on them?” she asked.
David shrugged his shoulders. “They’ll get over it. The season doesn’t start for a few weeks yet. They can do without me for one Saturday.” After a few moments, he said, “Gina isn’t sick, is she?”
Lucifer gave him a pained expression. “No,” she said. “She’s missing.”
All the blood drained from David’s face, making the blue of his eyes stark and wild against his suddenly pale skin. “What do you mean missing?”
“She was taken the night she came here. Just a few minutes after you got off the phone with her.”
“I don’t understand. Taken? What does that mean?”
“She was kidnapped,” Lucifer said.
A shadow fell across David’s face. “We have to call the police.”
“Her dad’s a cop, remember?”
David ran his hands through his hair and started pacing next to his car. “Then we have to tell the school.”
“David, calm down—”
“Who took her? Why?” His questions came at her like gunshots.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” she said.
“So you think she’s here.”
“I think there’s a clue here that may tell me who did take her.”
David brushed past her and walked toward the house, determination in every step. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”
Instead of following, Lucifer leaned back against the front of his car and continued to scan the house, taking in the details. David stepped onto the porch, marching around the jagged planks and up to the front door. He stopped and looked back. “You coming or not?”
“No.”
“Then why are you even here if you’re not going to look for her? In fact, why aren’t the police here? A cop’s daughter was kidnapped, for crying out loud. Why aren’t there . . . SWAT teams breaking down doors or something? Why isn’t her dad here looking for clues? Why did he lie to me and tell me she was sick? It doesn’t make any sense!” David’s chest was heaving, his mouth twisted in rage. “Where’s my girlfriend?!”
Lucifer patted the hood of the car next to her. “Have a seat.”
“I don’t want—”
“Gina’s dad hired me to find her and that’s what I’m going to do. Now please . . .” pat pat pat “. . . come over here and tell me what you know about this place.”
David’s breathing had slowed, but she could still tell he was amped up. He navigated his way off of the porch and back to Lucifer. With a frustrated sigh, he sat next to her, the car dipping under his added weight. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “Gina gets kidnapped, but instead of calling the police, her dad, who just happens to be a cop . . . a very big cop, calls some teenaged girl named Lucifer to find her.”
“Well, he didn’t call me so much as break into my apartment and try to wrestle me into submission. But yeah, that’s about it.” David opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “David, whatever it was that scared Gina that night snatched her right out from under her dad’s nose. He saw it happen. But he couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it.”
“How do you not understand your daughter being kidnapped?” David asked. He shook his head and said, “This is a prank. Gina’s playing a joke on her dad for being so uptight. That has to be it.”
“If she was pranking her dad, wouldn’t she let you know?” Lucifer looked back to the house. “Her dad came to me because Gina was taken by something supernatural.”
David pushed himself off the car and stared at Lucifer for a moment. Then he started looking around, craning his neck in all directions.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m looking for the hidden cameras.”
“Well, if you find any, let me know.” Lucifer continued studying the house. Something about it was nagging at her. She had seen plenty of old houses before, but for some reason, this one just wasn’t quite right.
“So you’re some kind of paranormal PI then?” he smirked.
Lucifer ignored the disdain in his voice. “A thief, actually. But since I run in these mystical circles, I have a better chance of finding her than the police.”
David folded his arms across his chest. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yep, I really am a thief.”
“I meant about—”
“I know what you meant. You don’t have to believe me, and I don’t have any particular desire to try and convince you. I’m just trying to find Gina.”
“By standing out here and staring off into space,” he said. Lucifer could understand the reason behind his terseness, but it still bothered her. She was trying to help, and he seemed to be coming at her as if it were somehow her fault.
“How long has this house been here?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Since the twenties, I think. It was abandoned back in the seventies after the man who owned it killed himself and his family inside.” He gave her a sideways smile. “Supposedly. The city tried tearing it down once, but some historical society was able to save it. Everyone says it’s haunted.” David looked at her. “You think she was kidnapped by a ghost?”
Lucifer kept her gaze on the house as she said, “No.” She looked back to David when he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started tapping the screen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Gina’s dad. If she was really kidnapped, I want to hear it from him. No offense.” David held the phone to his ear, waiting for Buck to pick up the other end. After a moment, he said, “Mr. Pierce, this is David. Gina’s boyfriend. Would you please call me right away? Thank you.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket before leaning back against the car with a heavy sigh. “This is just absurd.”
“Well, while you’re waiting for him to call back, maybe you could help me. Do you notice anything odd or out of place?”
Exasperated, David looked to the house. “No. It just looks like an old house to me.” He paused then said, “Do you?”
Lucifer frowned. “All the windows are broken,” she said. “Probably have been for who knows how long.” She leaned close to him and pointed toward the second story of the house. “All but that one.”
David stared at the unbroken window. “A window is odd to you?”
“How many kids have thrown rocks at this place over the years? Hundreds? If this house was abandoned forty y
ears ago, there shouldn’t be a single window intact. Yet, there is.”
“I suppose that is a little odd. Could be just a coincidence.”
Lucifer arched her eyebrow as she stared at him. She pushed off of the car and bent over to examine the rocks at her feet. Once she found one to her liking, she picked it up and hurled it at the window. The rock whistled through the air until it hit the window with a crash, shattering the glass into a hundred pieces. Sharp, tiny shards rang out like dull chimes as they fell to the ground like deadly rain. Lucifer repositioned her trick bag over her shoulder and started walking toward the house. “Go home, David.”
“Not a chance.” His voice was lower now, his tone measured but firm. “I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on with Gina. And I mean really going on with her, not this nonsense about some boogeyman. Consider me your shadow.”
She looked back at him, wanting to give him a scowl. But when she saw the undercurrent of worry beneath his determined expression, she could only sigh. He cared about Gina. Lucifer wondered what it would be like to have someone worry about her like that. But just as quickly as the thought came to her, she pushed it from her mind. It was foolish to think about such things. People close to her always got hurt. Always. Besides, what in this world or any other would she do with a boyfriend, anyway? The idea was ridiculous.
“All right,” she said. “But if I tell you to do something, you have to do it.”
“Oh, do I?” He tried to smile at her, but his broad grin lay across his face in a half-hearted tilt.
“Yes, you do,” she said with a healthy amount of venom in her voice. David blanched. Even Lucifer was surprised by her own anger, but she wasn’t mad at him because he wanted to come along. She was mad at herself because she knew she was going to let him.
The outside of the Worcester House was a model of perfection compared to the mess inside. Trash was everywhere. Bottles, bags, papers, even a couple of shopping carts. The heavy odor of damp mildew and rot hit Lucifer in the face like a punch. The floor was a mish-mash of puke-green and amber tiles that had faded into a cadaverous gray. The original wallpaper hung from the walls like strips of dead skin, the exposed wood and plaster underneath covered with decades of graffiti. What little furniture still remained inside the house had been nailed to the walls and ceiling by some enterprising vandals in an attempt to give the place a surreal atmosphere. Lucifer had to admit to herself that it had the desired effect.
“So,” David said as Lucifer inspected one of the walls, “you’re named Lucifer. As in the devil.”
Lucifer took a deep breath. “No, as in my two grandmothers. My full name is Luci Jenifer Inacio Das Neves. ‘Lucifer’ for short.” She rubbed a bit of the hanging wallpaper between her fingers. “Tell me about this prank you mentioned. The one that scared Gina.”
David stepped up next to her, squinting at the wall. “It was some Bloody Mary kind of thing. You know, stand in front of a mirror and say ‘Bloody Mary’ three times.”
“Bloody Mary?” Lucifer gave him an incredulous stare.
“Yeah, only it wasn’t that. It was some other name. Gina’s friend Olivia had a book she said was filled with spells or other such nonsense. They got the name out of there.”
Lucifer should have figured as much. Mirrors were often used as gateways to other places, but it was very difficult to use them unless you knew what you were doing. And the only way to know what you were doing was to have the right book. Fortunately, those kinds of books were few and far between, but occasionally they fell into the wrong hands.
“Do you know what the name of the book was?”
“No. But Olivia should still have it.”
“Good. So where’s this mirror then?” she asked.
“Upstairs somewhere.”
Lucifer started up the creaky stairs. The wood of the railing was soft and damp against her fingers. It was obvious that the roof did little to keep out the elements.
As David followed her up the stairs, he asked, “Aren’t you worried people will think you’re evil with a name like that?”
“My grandmothers were wonderful, highly respected women, and I’m proud to be named after them. If anyone has a problem with that, that’s their shortcoming. Not mine.”
“How about I just call you Luci.”
Lucifer stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to face him. “How about I punch you in the neck.”
David put his hands on his hips. “You’re rather violent, you know that?”
“Yes, because it seems to be the only way I can get people to listen to me.”
“Well, I don’t see what’s wrong with Luci.”
She wanted to hit him, but what welled up from inside her wasn’t anger. It was sadness. Lucifer was her name, it was who she was, why she was, and yet people always wanted her to be something else.
“David,” she said, “I was named after my grandmothers because they both died saving my life when I was born. I’m alive because of them. Both of them. And I’m not going to disrespect their memory just to make other people more comfortable. My name is Lucifer. Not Luci. Not Jenifer. Lucifer. Accept it or go away.”
David must have seen the hurt on her face because his expression softened. “Of course. I’m sorry . . . Lucifer. I didn’t know.”
She could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but thankfully he stayed silent. “It’s all right. C’mon,” she said and continued up the stairs.
The top floor of the house was less cluttered with garbage and debris than downstairs. Shafts of sunlight broke through the deteriorating roof in several places, illuminating an open area in the center of a large room where tattered pillows and an assortment of mismatched cushions were arranged in a circle.
“The girls would hang out here while one of them would go in the other room by herself.”
“Where the mirror is?”
“Yeah.”
Lucifer made her way to the other side of the room toward an open doorway. The door that used to cover the doorway was now resting on a couple of milk crates, serving as a makeshift table. Melted wax from at least a dozen candles caked most of its surface, several cigarette butts sticking up from the mess like insects trapped in amber.
When Lucifer stepped into the room, she felt a noticeable drop in temperature. There wasn’t any direct sunlight coming in, so it made sense. Still . . .
The rock that Lucifer had thrown through the window was lying in the center of the room, small bits of glass trailing between it and the window. Other than the rock and the broken glass, this room was completely bare except for an old vanity and mirror in the center of the room. The white paint of the vanity had peeled and cracked to reveal the wood underneath.
Surprisingly, the room itself appeared to have weathered the years far better than the rest of the house.
“So, how long have you been doing this kind of thing?” David asked.
“Longer than I haven’t.”
“What made you decide to become a thief then?”
Lucifer gave him a sideways glance. “The brochure said I’d get to do a lot of traveling.” She stepped over to the vanity. She could see bits of yellow and blue paint underneath the peeling white paint, but she couldn’t find any symbols etched or drawn anywhere. “Come here and give me a hand with this.”
David walked over and grabbed one end of the vanity while Lucifer held onto the other end. “No, seriously,” David said. “Thief is a rather odd occupation.”
Lucifer grunted as she slid her side of the vanity away from the wall. “It’s more . . . hhnff . . . popular than you think.”
“Yeah, but you’re a girl.”
Lucifer gingerly ran her hand behind the mirror as she examined the back of the vanity. “Your powers of observation are truly a wonder to behold.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’re a bit young to be a professional thief. How old are you anyway?”
Lucifer stopped to think for moment before s
he said, “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?” David leaned against the vanity and said, “Oh god, are you going to tell me you’re a vampire?”
She looked up from her inspection and stared at him. She shook her head and said, “Abestado,” before opening the drawers in the vanity to look inside.
“Abestado? What’s that?”
“It means ‘idiot’ in Portuguese.” She pulled one of the drawers completely out of the vanity and tipped it over to see the underside. Still no symbols.
“Well, I just thought that if you didn’t know your age it might be because you’re too old to remember. You know. Like a vampire.”
“There are a million ordinary reasons why someone might not know how old they are, but your first instinct is to go with vampire?”
“You were the one that brought up the supernatural.” He was smirking, and the corner of his mouth was doing that curling thing again. She thought his mouth would be almost handsome if such stupid things would stop coming out of it. “So how come you don’t know how old you are?” he asked.
“I don’t remember my birthday.”
“Everybody remembers their birthday.”
“I’m not everybody.” She said it a bit harsher than she meant to. “Pull those drawers out for me, please.”
“How come?”
“I want to see if there are any symbols underneath.”
He handed one of the drawers to her as he said, “I meant how come you don’t remember your birthday?”
“You ask an awful lot of questions, you know that?” He just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Lucifer sighed and said, “I grew up in Recife, Brazil, in a favela. It’s . . . well, I guess it’s what you’d call a shantytown. Only poorer than anything you could imagine. My parents died when I was young, and without my grandmothers . . . I had to live on the streets. And street kids don’t have much use for birthdays. After a while, I just kind of forgot. But if I had to guess, I’d say sixteen or seventeen.”
David watched her, his face expressionless. Lucifer didn’t wait for him to respond and examined the last of the drawers. No symbols anywhere. And that was a serious problem. If there were no symbols on the vanity, that meant the gateway was somehow opened from the other side. But exactly who, or what, had the power to do that?
Hexed Page 4
