Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7)

by Glenn Bullion

  "Well, I don't know you, and I'm not beating you up and poking a chair at you."

  "This isn't your house!"

  "I know! It's Victoria's! I'm a friend of hers."

  She backed up a step at the sound of Victoria's name. Victoria didn't talk about her friends, not in great detail. Was it possible she just attacked someone close to her?

  She was still wary.

  "I don't think I believe you," she said. "You're a burglar."

  Kevin had pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall, his arm still limp. He looked at her in disbelief.

  "Oh, really? What am I stealing?" He gestured to the refrigerator. "A ham and cheese sandwich?"

  Following his gaze, there was indeed a loaf of bread on the counter. Beside it was a pack of ham and mustard. A single slice of cheese was still in plastic.

  "Shit," he said, his face scrunched in pain. "I think you broke my arm."

  "I didn't hit you that hard."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  Kevin unveiled his arm, and Zoey gasped. It was broken, between the wrist and elbow. The forearm was bent at an odd angle, with bone jutting through the skin.

  Zoey felt sick. She'd only seen a broken bone once before, when Kylie fell out of a tree when they were younger.

  "Oh my God," she said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…shit. God, what do we do? I can call a doctor. I'll call Victoria. I can drive you to the hospital."

  He shook his head.

  "Can I just have some water?"

  "Water? Okay, one second. Then we'll figure out what to do."

  Her hand shook as she grabbed a plastic cup out of the cabinet. Kevin moaned in discomfort behind her. She fought off the guilt as best she could. It wasn't entirely her fault. She didn't know who he was. What was he even doing in the house?

  "Here," she said, squatting down to hand him the cup. "I'm really sorry."

  "Don't worry about it."

  Zoey wasn't expecting what happened next.

  Instead of taking a sip, Kevin set the cup on the floor. He dipped his finger in the water and gave it a stir.

  She didn't have time to ask what he was doing before the water turned a light shade of blue. It reminded her of a fruit drink, but one that actually glowed.

  Then, as quickly as it started, the glow was gone.

  Kevin took a deep drink and leaned his head against the wall. He kept his injured arm in his lap, perfectly still.

  His arm suddenly popped, moving on its own. Zoey jumped. Kevin let out a groan and took a deep breath. His arm shifted one more time, the bone moving back where it belonged.

  He held his arm up and examined it. He wiggled every finger. Twisting it back and forth, there were no signs of the injury, no scar. Only a little dried blood.

  "Ahh," Kevin said. "Much better."

  Zoey had no words. Her mouth hung open.

  He finished what was left in the cup.

  "What's your name?" he asked.

  "Z-Zoey. Zoey Gallner."

  His cheeks turned red as his eyes danced.

  "Uh, well, Zoey, you might want to get some clothes on. Your towel is a little, uh…open."

  She glanced down. She'd lost most of the grip on the towel, which just hung loosely over her frame. Parts of her pale body peeked out. A breast, sliver of leg, her bare shoulder. Without another word, she turned and left the kitchen. She was too awestruck to be embarrassed. She made a beeline for the basement, her mind a blur.

  Zoey had never dressed so fast in her life, not even when her boyfriend was leaving through the window when her parents returned home.

  She wasn't completely conscious of what she was putting on. A pair of cutoff jeans. A white Baltimore Orioles tee shirt Victoria bought for her. At least she thought it was the Orioles. It had a bird on it. She didn't bother with socks or shoes. They would only delay her getting back to the kitchen for the barrage of questions she had for Kevin.

  She almost expected him to be gone, although she could hear and smell him. When she went back to the kitchen Kevin was sitting at the dining table. He was a few chairs away from her sketchpad and phone.

  He greeted her with a smile. He'd replaced his strange water with a can of soda. His ham and cheese sandwich sat on a plate in front of him. A bite was already missing.

  "Hello, again," he said, taking a drink.

  The hundred questions in Zoey's mind vanished. Her mind was a blank slate. She said nothing as she crossed the kitchen and sat across from him. He was uncomfortably close to her sketchpad, so she slid it further down the table.

  Only one question popped in her head.

  "Who are you?"

  "I already told you. I'm Kevin. Victoria didn't talk about me at all?"

  She shook her head. Kevin paused chewing for a moment to frown.

  "That hurts a little," he said. "Well, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I knew she had someone in town staying over. I thought you'd both be out on the town, so I stopped over."

  "She got a call. Some kind of emergency. She ran out with Jack."

  His eyes shot open.

  "Ah, Jack's in town? I hope he doesn't kill anyone."

  "Jack…has really killed people?"

  Kevin said nothing. His only response was to shove more ham and cheese in his mouth.

  "How did you do that?" she asked, pointing to his arm.

  "I'm a witch."

  She laughed for a moment, waiting for him to continue. He didn't.

  "A witch?"

  "Yeah. Pointy hats, broomsticks, cauldrons. You know, a witch."

  A witch. Such simple words, with powerful meaning.

  "Seriously?"

  "Yup." He finished his sandwich. "That's why I'm here, actually. I keep some of my best stuff here. I was looking for a key when you ambushed me."

  "I didn't ambush you. I thought you were breaking in."

  He laughed and shook his head. "A witch, breaking in. That's funny." He rose to his feet. "Victoria keeps a key in one of these drawers."

  Zoey nodded. "Yeah, to the blood fridge here. You don't drink blood, do you?"

  "No. I just need to get in the safe."

  Her eyes fell on the great mystery of the kitchen. The safe only with a handle.

  "The safe is yours?"

  "Victoria got it for me. Specially made. You know where that key is?"

  Zoey retrieved it from the right drawer and handed it over. She didn't ask any questions, just watched. Did the safe have a keyhole, hidden from view?

  Kevin studied the key and simply held it in his hand.

  "Perfect."

  With his other hand, he simply pulled open the safe. Zoey looked back and forth between Kevin and the safe. It didn't make any sense.

  "How did you do that?"

  "Magic." He returned the key and rubbed his hands together with a smile as he stared into the safe. Zoey peered over his shoulder. "Now let's see what we got here."

  The smell attacked her nose and nearly made her gag. Her eyes watered as she had to look away for a moment.

  "Shit," she said. "What is that?"

  Kevin pointed at different jars and bags, all lined up neatly on shelves.

  "Frog's tongue. Ground-up bone of a sparrow. One-year-old graveyard dirt. Salamander eyes."

  She stepped back, unable to take the attack on her senses.

  "Gross. What do you do with it?"

  "Potions."

  "Are you serious? Like love potions?"

  He laughed as he took out several bags.

  "Jack always makes fun of me about a love potion. He says it's the only way I snagged my girlfriend. Really, I can make a lot of stuff. But a love potion's never popped in my head."

  Zoey looked him up and down. He was a little taller than her. Well-defined physique, but he had a goofy smile. He wasn't unattractive, but definitely not her type. She wondered what a witch's girlfriend was like.

  He set the bags on the table and noticed the sketchpad. Drifting over, Zoey's heart caught in her ches
t as her body stiffened.

  "Wow, you draw?"

  "Yeah," she said, her lips pursed. "I draw."

  "This looks awesome."

  He grabbed the sketchpad to hold it closer. Zoey nearly raised a hand in protest, but kept quiet. The portrait was very personal to her. She didn't like people just grabbing it, even Victoria.

  "Is this a real person?" he asked. "Or just something from your head?"

  "Oh, he's real, definitely," Zoey said, feeling the anger build inside all over again. She thought drawing him would help with closure, but it wasn't working. "We can just call him the one that got away."

  "Ah, an old boyfriend?"

  "Something like that."

  "And you're looking for him? Hmm…." He talked to himself for a moment. "That potion only works on pictures. But this drawing, it's so real. And usually it's the emotion behind the picture that makes the potion work."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He grabbed her phone and held it up, along with the sketchpad.

  "Is it okay if I try something?"

  Zoey didn't know what to say, so she only shrugged and nodded.

  Kevin spent the next several minutes looking like he was preparing a meal. He started a pot of water on the stove for a boil. Moving from cabinet to cabinet, he grabbed different herbs and spices. Garlic, sugar, pepper, parsley, a sliver of an orange. He also grabbed a tiny jar from the safe.

  "This stuff is rare," he said. "I hope this works."

  She didn't want to know what it was.

  He continued to dance in the kitchen, almost reminding her of a chef on TV. The water finally came to a boil, and he dumped the odd collection he'd gathered into the pot. He pulled out a baking sheet and set it on the stove.

  Zoey wasn't prepared for the next step in whatever ritual he was performing.

  Kevin tore the portrait out of the sketchpad.

  She covered her mouth in horror. She'd been working on the portrait since the day after the attack. It helped her stay sane during those long hours in the basement. It helped her heal. She wasn't finished, and she never removed a drawing from the sketchpad until it was done.

  He set the portrait in the baking sheet, with her phone on top. Before she could even ponder what was going on, he poured the boiling mixture into the baking sheet, just enough to cover.

  Her phone and portrait were sitting in strange goop.

  "What the hell are you doing?" she finally said. "What is the matter with you?"

  He didn't answer. He simply reached out for the baking sheet.

  "Don't! That's boiling water!"

  Kevin wasn't deterred. He set his hand on top of the portrait, into the steaming water. It didn't bother him in the least.

  The water began to sparkle, like it contained glitter. The smartphone came to life.

  "Wow, neat," Kevin said. "I think it worked."

  "What?" Zoey said. "What worked?"

  He grabbed the smartphone and glanced at the screen. Water still dripped onto the baking sheet. She was surprised it even turned on. Smiling, he turned the screen toward her to show what resembled a Google map of the United States.

  "There he is. Looks like somewhere in Illinois?"

  She took the phone. Coherent thought struggled to form in her mind. A red dot blinked in the state of Illinois. She touched the screen, pressing the home button, but nothing happened. The dot continued to glow.

  "Damn, sorry," Kevin said, frowning. "I should have thought about that some more. Your phone, it's kind of…broke."

  "What?"

  "That's all it will do now. If you get closer to that dot, it will zoom in. It's a pretty cool little tracking potion. I thought it only worked on real pictures. But I guess not. After a few days, though, the phone will die, and won't come on again. Maybe I should have used a cheap Kindle or something."

  "A few days? How many?"

  "Uh, three or four? I don't really know."

  Emotions pushed any attempt at thought aside. Excitement. Terror. Awe. Rage.

  "You're telling me I can find him?" she asked, pointing at the portrait. "I just have to go towards Illinois?"

  "Yeah. Cool, right?"

  "Ohmygod," she said, pacing. "Oh, shit! This is real? Does it run over 4G?"

  To her, the question sounded ridiculous and brilliant at the same time.

  Kevin laughed. "No, not 4G. Magic."

  "Okay. Illinois. Can I fly there? Can I drive? Will Victoria help me? I'm not sure she would, and I can't blame her. Not for what I'm going to do. I should do this by myself. I'll drive. Not safe to fly, not with the sun. She told me that."

  "Whoa, whoa," Kevin said. "What are you saying?"

  "Even if Victoria drove with me," she continued. "We'd still have to hide during the day. Driving time really is cut in half."

  He nodded slowly in thought.

  "Yeah, I'm afraid so. I couldn't put a daylight potion together in just a few days. Not easy-to-get stuff in that one."

  "Wait," Zoey said, grabbing his shoulder. "What did you just say? A daylight potion?"

  Kevin's eyes went wide as his expression froze.

  "You…don't know? About Victoria?"

  "No. What do you mean?"

  He said nothing for nearly thirty seconds before plastering a fake smile on his face. He pulled a small vial out of his front pocket with a brownish liquid inside.

  "Well, it was nice meeting you," he said. "Good luck with finding your boyfriend."

  "Are you serious? You're leaving now? Tell me about Victoria."

  "I can't. I'm not even supposed to be here. My girlfriend's waiting for me back at her apartment."

  Zoey frowned when he popped the cork on the vial and capped it with his index finger. He traced the outline of a large circle on the kitchen wall, leaving behind a brownish trail.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Tell Victoria I'll call her," he said, ignoring everything she said. He pulled a picture of what looked like a bedroom wall out of his back pocket.

  She grabbed his wrist and held tight.

  "Tell me," she said. "Or I'll break your arm again."

  "No you won't," he said, smiling. "You really didn't mean to the first time. And you're a nice person."

  He saw right through her and her empty threat. Desperate, she grabbed the picture from his hand with blinding speed. She took a step back and held it up. She had no idea what its purpose was, but Kevin no longer smiled. Panic took hold as he stepped toward her.

  "Give that back! I only brought one, and Victoria's printer is broken."

  "No. Not until you tell me about this daylight potion."

  "Zoey, c'mon. Stop it."

  The two engaged in one of oldest games alive. A game of keep-away. She felt like she was five years old all over again. Kevin reached for the photo, only for Zoey to switch hands behind her back. She easily held him back with her strength, a strange feeling, considering he was bigger.

  Kevin was a gentleman, and also shy. He refused to grab or try to manhandle her. The boys in her school would have taken the opportunity to touch and flirt. He simply wanted his picture.

  "I need that!" Kevin said. "I have to leave!"

  She was confused as to what the picture had to do with him leaving, but that was a question for another time. She held the photo in both hands between her fingers, threating to tear it in half.

  "No!" he said, reaching out. "Okay, stop."

  "Start talking." She waved it back and forth. "And I'll give this back."

  He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

  "You'd better sit down."

  CHAPTER 10

  Victoria wasn't sure what she expected, but the parking lot at Tony's club was exactly like it should have been on a weeknight. There were a decent amount of cars, and a couple walking hand-in-hand approached Dave, who watched the front door as always. With the window rolled down she could hear their conversation. Dave gave them the simple rules of behaving themselves and
tipping if they were having a good time. The couple then pushed the conversation into the possibility of a threesome, which Dave politely declined.

  "I love strip clubs," Jack said as they parked. "Broken dreams, disappointed fathers, breasts everywhere, alcohol, women playing stick-it-in-quietly in the back rooms for extra money. You know the people that run these places have a fucked up dark side. I wish I owned one."

  "I own this place, or at least a part of it."

  "I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my life."

  "Shut up, Jack."

  Dave let out a big grin as the pair approached.

  "Victoria," he said. "Good, good. You're coming by more often."

  "Hi, Dave."

  She squeezed the air out of him, like she always did. Dave laughed and turned serious when he looked at Jack.

  "Is he with you?"

  "Yeah."

  "No hugs for me, Tarzan," Jack said. "So keep your hands to yourself."

  Victoria touched Dave's arm before Jack could create his typical tension.

  "Is everything okay?" she asked.

  "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

  "Tony called. It seemed pretty important on the phone. He told me to rush down."

  "It's been quiet out here," he said. "I'm a little insulted. If there's a security problem, he should be bugging me. Not you. But I haven't seen Tony all night. You can go in there and look for him, if you want."

  "Thanks, Dave."

  Victoria and Jack stepped inside and saw more of the same. Nothing was amiss. Women dancing, mortals drinking, music, low light.

  "Nice," Jack said approvingly. He scanned the room. "A good collection of ladies. Different ethnicities, personality types, body types. Look at that blonde in the middle, becoming one with the pole. That's impressive. She must have graduated with honors. Good, good whores."

  "Have some respect. They're dancers, not whores."

  "Not the Goth chick on the end. She had sex ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. And call me jaded, but I doubt it was for free in the comfort of her own home."

  Victoria found the woman Jack referred to. Heavy, dark eye makeup and pale skin, wearing nothing but a spiked collar and wrist-straps. A few tattoos and strategically-placed piercings completed her look.

  "How can you tell?"

  "Just the way she moves. And the semen on her foot is a bit of a giveaway, too."