The Black Masquerade (Koven Chronicles Book 2)

by Andrea Pearson

  Chapter 14

  I woke up super early the next morning. The time had passed so quickly from when I’d hit the sack to waking up that I almost didn’t feel like I’d actually fallen asleep. I was completely well-rested. I stretched, enjoying the pops as I worked out any residual kinks from the last few days.

  Sia was there, waiting for her breakfast. As usual, Mrs. Russell had made sure my kitty had been taken care of while I was away. My neighbors were the best in the world.

  Before I’d even finished my breakfast, someone knocked on my door. I shook my head to myself, grumbling, as I walked to the door and pulled it open.

  “Abel, what a surprise.” Sarcasm and mornings had married each other and moved in with me a long time ago. I motioned for him to come inside. “Wanting to get an early start?”

  He barely glanced at me. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. There’s way too much for us to accomplish today. We need to strike the moment the hounds are here.”

  I nodded. I understood completely.

  Rather than offer him breakfast, I quickly finished my own, knowing he would appreciate that over cereal. I made sure Sia had enough food for the day, then Abel and I left. We decided to take his car—it was less recognizable than my own, just in case anyone was watching for us.

  I sensed a hesitancy on Abel’s side that I didn’t fully understand. It was like we were back to square one—before I’d helped him get through his Restart.

  It was more than just his hesitancy, though. He’d been so angry when I’d come home the day before, long before talking to me. It was such a stark contrast to how he’d been after his Restart, in the hospital. He’d acted like I meant something to him, like I was special. But now, it was like we were strangers again. It was confusing and annoying. Rather than asking about it, though, I brushed it off and continued as if nothing was going on between us. Because apparently, nothing was.

  Ugh. Men. So frustrating.

  When we pulled up to the first storage facility, Abel reached back and grabbed a duffel from the seat behind him. He plopped it in my lap.

  “Take your pick. You’ll need something to fight with.”

  I slid the zipper, gasping at the multitude of short swords, knives, and other fancy weapons. “What am I supposed to do with these? I’m not trained. I barely know which end goes into an enemy.”

  Abel ignored my lame attempt at a joke. “The amulet will help you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? It didn’t help me last night.”

  “Look, Lizzie. It’s part of the job. The amulet helps give you power to defeat the hounds. How else are you supposed to do it on your own? Just because I’m here to help doesn’t mean I always will be. Besides, you’re the one the prophecy is about. Do you really think the amulet’s creator wouldn’t have put in it abilities and powers to help you truly fight?”

  I stared at him. “You’ve thought about this more than I have.”

  He grunted in response. “Pick.”

  With a sigh, I shifted through the swords and knives, occasionally pulling them out of their sheaths and taking a look at the blades. All of them were sharp, obviously ready. Of course Abel wouldn’t keep something that wasn’t sharp. Several of them warmed under my touch when my fingers brushed them. That made me hesitate. Why would they react to me?

  Rather than say anything to Abel, I continued sifting through them, keeping mental note of the ones that seemed to respond most to my touch.

  I would need to find something I could hide easily. It was daylight, and swords, while cool, were noticeable. I picked two knives that were only six inches long, both of which would fit in my purse.

  “You’re seriously bringing a purse?” Abel asked.

  “Women always have purses with them. If I didn’t take mine, it would probably draw more attention. Besides, how am I supposed to hide them?”

  “With the holsters.” Abel pointed out several knife sheaths that were meant to be worn around the thighs and one that went around the upper arm.

  I didn’t want to experiment with wearing them now, and instead shoved the knives in their leather cases in my purse. “Maybe later. Thank you for these.”

  Abel grunted again—he seemed not to know how to make any other noise—and we hopped out of the car.

  “Where are your weapons?” I whispered.

  Abel held open the side of his jacket, and I gasped when I saw it was lined with knives. He had guns in shoulder holsters, and the butt of a gun poked out from the waist of his jeans on this side. I didn’t need to check to know there would probably be another one on his left. This man was insane.

  “You think I’m crazy,” he said. “After everything I’ve been through, I’ve learned to be prepared.”

  “Just don’t take me to a courthouse or the airport,” I said. “I’d hate to see what would happen if you were ever confronted by a metal detector.”

  We entered the office, and I began the tedious work of applying for a unit.

  If they ever made a movie of my life, I’d make sure they used intense action music over this part to liven things up. It was boring. While I chatted with the owner, Abel examined the different padlocks that were available for purchase.

  Finally, I was given a key and instructions on how to enter the facility.

  Once we exited the office, I turned to Abel. “Now what?”

  He glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “We enter, you use the amulet.”

  “Okay, okay.” I punched in the code, and we walked in on foot.

  We hadn’t gone very far when the owner poked his head out the door. “I would drive—it’ll take you five minutes to walk to the unit.”

  Abel and I glanced at each other. We could tell the man we were fine and to mind his own business . . . although technically, this was his business . . . or we could continue the ruse that we needed a unit and go grab the car. Of course, there was a third option . . .

  “Why can’t we tell him?” I whispered. “It’d make things a whole lot easier.”

  Abel shook his head at me, annoyed, and led the way back to his car.

  I was still learning to trust Abel’s instincts. They hadn’t been off so far. But neither had mine, and I couldn’t see anything wrong with letting the owner know what we were doing.

  We waved at the man as we drove past, then turned toward the unit we’d rented, driving slowly down each little road.

  Chapter 15

  After only a couple of minutes, I threw my hands in the air. “This is pointless. We should have told him why we’re here.”

  “Fine. Have it your way. Next time, we will. It’ll save us money anyway.” He glanced over at me, his hands on the wheel. “But didn’t you tell me we’d need a warrant first?”

  I rolled my eyes. “If the owners or managers are willing, we can get in. If they’re unwilling, we have to use the legal system.”

  Abel grumbled. “Just our luck. We did it all wrong the first time.”

  I wasn’t about to remind him that it had been my idea to go through the owners and managers in the first place. Instead, I said, “Hey, we’re doing the best we can. I wasn’t exactly given a manual for this job.”

  He glanced at me. “You’ve got access to the knowledge base.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Have you seen where it’s located? At this point—until I learn more about the amulet—if I want to learn something, I have to be willing to fly to Alaska, take a three-hour drive from the airport to Petersville, find some random old dead woman, walk down a tunnel, get my hand stung by like, a million little needles, and then I have to wander around thousands of ghosts until I find one that has the info I need. And that’s only until I actually learn what I’m there for. I have to go through all that again, but in reverse, to get back. It’s not exactly a quick jaunt to the store. It takes a minimum of three days, sometimes more.”

  Abel didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, he glanced at me, his eyes softer. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to take ou
t my frustrations on you.”

  I folded my arms, looking out the window. “I appreciate it.”

  We were silent for a moment as we pulled up to the unit we’d rented.

  “Is the amulet telling you anything?” he asked.

  I grabbed it, rolling it over in my hand. “No. I don’t expect it will. It seems like I need to be a lot closer to whatever I’m hunting.”

  “Let’s go check out the next company.”

  I glanced at him. “Are you serious? We can just talk to the owner. Explain who we really are and get his full cooperation.”

  “No. Chances of the hounds being anywhere else are the same as them being here.”

  I shook my head as I realized something. “Oh, my gosh. You’re embarrassed. Why? It’s not that difficult. I’ll talk to the owner. You don’t even need to be there.”

  “No,” he growled. “We’re going to the next place.”

  Without even getting out of the car to open the unit—totally ruining our ruse—Abel turned the car around and drove straight to the exit. He punched in the code and peeled out the facility.

  We were quiet the entire way to the next place. It drove me nuts that Abel’s pride and embarrassment were getting in the way of our job. I was starting to regret hiring him to work with me.

  At the next location, I made him stay in the car while I went to the manager and explained who I was and what I needed. The manager was eager to be of assistance. Especially when he heard what might be happening in one of his units.

  Of course I didn’t tell him the truth. Just that we had reason to believe that some terrorists were storing explosive devices that were going to be used at the masquerade ball that weekend. I showed him my ID, he recognized me from the news, and sent me on my way.

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything,” I said.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  I exited the office, then motioned for Abel to join me. He did so, a slightly irritated expression on his face. I tried not to laugh. He was so ridiculous.

  The manager let us in, and Abel and I went up and down the rows, staying as quiet as we could. I’d been sensing, over the past few hours, as the effigy’s effect on the hounds started to wear off, and it had surprised me. The faint tug on my heart made me feel vulnerable, nervous, and wanted at the same time. It was a weird combination.

  More than once, I looked over my shoulder when I heard a noise, half expecting to see a hound materializing in a corner of one of the open units.

  But nothing ever happened. It was long, tedious work that consisted of a lot of walking, pausing near all the locked doors to give the amulet a chance to tell us if it found anything, and Abel keeping watch. I was surprised at his level of self-control now that we were working. His patience astounded me. And his ability to stay completely quiet and absolutely still was almost unnerving.

  Finally, we finished and left the place, thanking the manager and asking him to let us know if he noticed any unusual behavior. He promised he would, and we left.

  The next company was on the opposite end of town, and again, we were silent the entire drive. Luckily, this one was much smaller than the first two had been, and it didn’t take nearly as long to search.

  “I’m ready for some food,” Abel said when we’d finished.

  My stomach grumbled. I’d been ready hours ago, but hadn’t wanted to be the first to say something. “Me too. Should we head back to my place?”

  “No. We should grab food at a local burger joint, then eat on the drive to Alpine.”

  I nodded. I’d forgotten all about our plan to go to the canyon to watch the fire vampires. “Good idea.”

  Abel needed to get gas, so we decided to stop by the Wendy’s in Lehi again, since it doubled as a fast-food place and a gas station.

  While he was pumping, I ran inside to buy the food. On the way through the store, I spotted the sign for the restrooms, and after looking around, popped in really quickly. After all, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

  I had just flushed the toilet when I noticed a trickle of smoke billowing into the stall. Now, either someone had entered and I hadn’t heard it and that someone was smoking—a lot—or else a hound was coming through the corner of the bathroom.

  Curses. I knew which it was without having to ponder the situation.

  Chapter 16

  Quickly jumping up on the toilet, hoping I’d moved fast enough, I got on my tiptoes and tried to see over the stall.

  Nothing was there.

  But a shadow did appear on the floor under the door. It was hazy and undefined, but quickly morphed into the shape of a dog.

  I thought through my options. Run out as fast as I could, hoping he or she wouldn’t catch me, hide in the stall and hope they didn’t shift into a human and break the door down, or attack them first.

  None of the options sounded like a great idea. Especially since the dog would catch up, it could come under the stall—and a human could do that as well—and if they knew enough to come find me here, they’d know I was hiding.

  A growl sounded on the other side of the door.

  “I know you’re there,” I said. “And it was a huge mistake to come.”

  I spotted the toilet paper and very carefully bent over, pulling off a wad. I’m a random person sometimes, and it’s actually saved my bacon a few times.

  Hoping the element of surprise—or just plain oddness—would save me, I began feeding the toilet paper over the door. See? Random.

  The dog froze. I could tell from its shadow that it was staring up at the paper. While I had its attention, I released the tissue, sprang from the top of the toilet, and slammed the door open and into the hound.

  I ran for the door, but the amount of time I’d bought myself wasn’t enough because the hound raced in front of me and barred the exit, its huge teeth showing. How could I have forgotten the incredible speed of these beasts? I scrambled away from that mouth.

  The dog began to shift into a human. I only had a split second to stop it, and I wasn’t close enough to use the amulet. I pulled out my gun, glad I had more than one weapon, intending to shoot the hound and then destroy it. The dog/man/thing saw, though, and quick as lightning, he struck me with a foot. My CZ clattered across the tile, coming to rest against a toilet. Ew.

  Without anything to defend myself, I sprang at the man, whose transformation was now complete. He attempted to backhand me, but I sidestepped him just in time, barreling into him.

  I pulled my magic to myself, reaching for his flame.

  Kill?

  Before I could respond, the man flung me across the room. My head snapped against the sink and I fell, dazed, to the ground. He laughed, kicking the door open to the toilet where my gun had fallen.

  The man picked up my CZ and pointed it at me. I grabbed the nearest trashcan, chucking it at him as hard as I could. It was a smaller one—not one of the tall, swinging-door cans. He blocked it, but the distraction was enough for me to rush forward, slamming myself into his legs. Miraculously, he didn’t pull the trigger.

  He tipped backward, grabbing me by the hair with his free hand and yanking me with him. That was pointless—I would have fallen anyway.

  I grappled with the arm that held my gun, trying to make sure he didn’t put a bullet in me while I was snuffing his flame. I had to squirm up his body to be able to reach his sternum. That earned another ew. The man stank. His clothes hadn’t been washed or probably even changed in years.

  Kill?

  The amulet caught me by surprise. I hadn’t realized I was close enough yet. I reached out magically and grabbed his fire with my power.

  “Yes.”

  I snuffed the flame, and the man slumped underneath me. I rolled off him immediately, gasping for breath, hand on my head. That had not been fun.

  Taking care not to move too quickly—my head was pounding—I slowly rolled to a sitting position. It wasn’t until that moment that I noticed more smoke gathering in the corner.

 
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I scrambled across the tile toward the smoke, and the moment the dog materialized, I was ready.

  Kill?

  Yes.

  I snuffed the hound’s flame.

  It occurred to me a second later that maybe I should have waited to see if the dog was evil or good—for all I knew, I’d just killed Alexander. I took a deep breath, staring down at the dog. Hopefully not.

  The door to the bathroom opened as I was holstering my gun. The woman who came in screamed when she saw the man on the floor, me with blood dripping from my nose—I hadn’t even realized I’d been struck there—and the dead dog on the other side of me.

  “Call the police,” I said.

  The woman began sobbing as she pulled out her phone. I realized then just how lucky I was to have the personality type I did. I don’t freeze or panic. I also don’t fall apart and cry. When presented with a stressful situation, I act. The poor woman. Sensing she was the hands-on type, I stepped across the man and gave her a hug.

  “State the nature of your call,” the 911 operator said, the woman’s speaker loud enough for me to hear.

  I motioned to her phone, the leaned against the wall, needing to take a breather.

  Dang it—Abel. The food.

  The door opened up yet again, and this time, Abel stepped in. His eyes widened when he took in the scene.

  “We’ll go through the drive-through,” he said.

  I nodded, then turned to the woman. “Tell the cops Lizzie was here. They’ll know what happened and will give me a call.”

  She blinked. “L—Lizzie?”

  “Yes. Lizzie Ashton. That’s me. I work with them regularly. I have to go now.”

  We didn’t have time to stay and answer questions, file reports, and get bothered by news media, which would probably come once word got out that a woman had been attacked in the bathroom.