Twisted Potions (Hidden Blood Book 2)

by Al K. Line

  One old guy, a wizard, glanced my way and smiled sheepishly then mouthed a silent, "Please don't tell," and I nodded. His secret was safe with me.

  At the counter, Delilah was busy doing something with the coffee machine but turned and smiled her beautiful smile as I rested my arms on the cool glass display cabinet.

  "Kate," she said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me.

  "Hi. Sorry it's been so long. But there have been things going on. I know that's no excuse, but…"

  "Hey, don't worry about it. It's great to see you. I know everything was a little chaotic last time we met. It would be nice to catch up without stressing about being killed or any of that nonsense."

  "You mean it?" I asked, feeling a weight lift.

  "Sure. You busy now? I can get the new girl to cover for me. Tilly, I'm taking a break."

  "Okay," came a voice from the back, then she came out and busied herself at the coffee machine, finishing what Delilah had started.

  A Girlie Chat

  Delilah sat opposite me in a cozy back room where she had a small square table and several chairs set up. There was a kettle, a jar of instant, and two cups on the clean but cheap counter. She put the kettle on without asking. I watched her as she worked, spooning in the coffee and adding a splash of milk to each.

  When ready, she placed them both on paper doilies on the Formica table and leaned back in her chair, arching her back. She is a shapely woman, not busty or large hipped, but slender and powerful looking, lithe like a middle-distance runner. Her bright red hair is startling and her high cheeks are always touched with powder that accentuates her green eyes. There's a fire burning behind those eyes, and I've seen them when they're as large as her head, and slitted, with a real fire burning in her belly, but then they belong to her shifter self, one of the, or most likely the, last dragon in the world.

  She's ancient, cold-hearted if you cross her, yet bored of an existence that left her alone in her subterranean realm, flying around immense caverns as her old world crumbled eon after eon. Sure, she's had her dramas, even hooked up with the man who brought magic to humanity, along with all the strife that comes with it, but that's history now, and good riddance.

  She came to Cardiff and set up her cafe-cum-deli, although deli is a play on her name rather than signifying what she sells.

  "I can't stand another cappuccino as long as I live," she said, drinking the instant and sighing with contentment.

  "Sometimes simple is best," I agreed, smiling, finding I was utterly relaxed in her presence.

  "So, what's up?"

  "Oh, the usual. A house guest turned himself into an immortal Elder ghoul, Mithnite's still freaking out about being a demonic janitor, Faz almost killed himself trying to stop the ghoul nonsense, I've spent the night watching bodies being gnawed on, then I stripped and stood in a fountain and washed my clothes, then I came here."

  Delilah didn't bat an eyelid at any of it apart from the fountain stuff; she knew the way things worked in our world and not a lot surprised her. "Ah, that one."

  "One what?" I asked, wondering if this was why I'd come here, because I thought maybe she'd understand my strange behavior.

  "It's a stress reaction, but also a sign of feeling like you're drowning in the inconsequential stuff. Like you're a part of the scenery and nobody is taking you seriously. It's a look-at-me kind of thing, exhibitionism even though I bet you put up a veil, right?"

  "Damn, did you take psychology classes or something?" I asked, impressed.

  "You pick up a thing or two over the millennia. It's perfectly natural, Kate. The deeper you get into the Hidden world, the less you're visible to Regulars, and it's a hard reality to accept. Your old life fades away and a new one takes its place, but you want to hold on to what you had even though you never can."

  "Well, now I'm depressed."

  "Don't be." Delilah smiled and held out her small hand. I took it. "Your life is amazing, full of adventure. It's wild and crazy and different. That's what you want, isn't it?"

  "Yes, and no. You know about the baby thing? I assume everyone knows what happened and that Faz gave me the Hidden magic he'd inherited."

  "I know. And that's great. You're feeling guilty? Worried about bringing a life into such a world?"

  "Wouldn't you be?"

  "No." She seemed sure, so certain and confident.

  "But it's so dangerous."

  "Of course it is. This life, this Hidden world, it's fraught with danger. Some survive, others die, it's the way of things. Change what you don't like, accept the rest."

  "Change what I don't like, accept the rest. You read that somewhere?"

  "Maybe, or maybe I'm a woman with a lot of experience and it's how I've learned to cope, to accept and enjoy what I have."

  "You should start charging," I said, laughing. "Thanks. In a few minutes you've put things into perspective better than I have in months, years."

  "You're young, and I don't say that to sound patronizing. When you get to my age you get some distance on things, can look at life with a level head. What I wouldn't give to be your age and do it all over again."

  "How's business?" I asked, changing the subject. "Seems like things are finally picking up."

  "Really good," she said, suddenly animated and shifting on her chair. "At first it was just those who never went to Madge's, but now I'm getting regulars even though they still go there. They like a coffee and a cake after their fry-up."

  "I'm surprised Madge hasn't had a fit and banned them all."

  "We have an arrangement." Delilah zipped her mouth shut; she wasn't going to tell me what that was.

  "If it keeps the peace," I said, dying to know. "But tell me one thing. Why did you open up right next to her?"

  "Because I knew this was where I'd be needed. Those like me, or those who were once my kind, we see things, glimpses of the future, and so here I am."

  "Haha, you're as bad as all the rest, you know that?"

  "Maybe."

  We chatted for a while longer, enjoying each other's company, but tiredness was getting to me and I knew Faz would wake soon and wonder if I was all right. I said my goodbyes, we hugged and promised to stay in touch and meet more regularly, both agreeing it would be nice to have some female company, and then I left, buying several chocolate-covered goodies from Tilly on my way out.

  I kept close to the buildings and only breathed once I was well away. No point risking a sighting now I knew I'd want to come back on a regular basis. What arrangement did she have with Madge? Did that mean it was okay for me to let others see?

  No chance.

  No Sleep

  Halfway to the car my phone rang. Expecting it to be Faz, I answered without checking who it was.

  "You let them get away," accused Dancer. "What are you playing at?"

  "Boss, they'd gone before the goon squad arrived. What was I supposed to do, follow them into their ghoulish world?"

  "Um, no, I suppose not. Sorry, didn't mean to shout."

  "You're getting very good at it for someone I'm doing a favor for. I don't have to work for you, you know. You can't make me." I was playing with him, but he deserved it. Plus, it was early, I was tired, and I knew he wouldn't call just to have a go.

  "I know," he said, deflated. "But you could at least pretend to be a little scared of me."

  "If it will make you feel any better." I offered.

  "It will, it would. So, what's the news?"

  "Nothing yet, I'm still looking." I wasn't, I was eyeing up the cakes and wishing he'd bugger off so I could stuff my face.

  "Then I've got good news for you. So stop thinking about Delilah's delicious delicacies and take a drive over to Alistair Grimes and Sons. And be nice, you know how sensitive he is."

  "Hey, how do you know about the—" Dancer hung up. I checked the car suspiciously, wondering if it had hidden cameras. I wouldn't put it past him. All Heads are paranoid verging on schizophrenic, or is it schizophrenic verging on paranoid?
<
br />   I still ate the cake. I needed something before I went to Creepy and Sons.

  Dead and Gone

  Alistair Grimes and Sons looked like any of a dozen funeral directors in the city. The front was all wide glass, a few tastefully placed urns and what have you, the interior hidden behind blinds.

  Parked to the right, with access to the back doors to keep things hidden, was a gleaming hearse; one of the sons was wiping it with a cloth. I parked up across the road, crossed and then waved because I'm such a polite gal. He looked up and scowled at me then went back to work. Suited me, the whole family gave me the creeps.

  Even though it was only coming up to eight in the morning, the door opened when I pushed on it and terrible elevator music played at a respectable volume as the door closed quietly behind me.

  The place stank, hints of formaldehyde and other preservatives lingering as background notes to the overriding stench of death. This wasn't usual, normally all you got was an overpowering nose full of air freshener, but it was easy to see why today was different.

  Everything was in disarray. Stands with tasteful images of coffins were mangled, strange footprints were trampled into the carpet, a recessed shelf usually full of urns was empty, the smashed contents on the floor, several coffins were covered in sticky hand prints, and from the smell it was obvious the hand prints weren't anything nice.

  Alistair stood in the middle of the room looking angry, very angry. His usually pale face was bright red, his fists were clenched, and his oiled hair was sticking up all over the place. He still wore his suit, but his gray tie was askew and his shoes weren't polished. If you knew Alistair, and unfortunately I did, then you knew this was beyond serious.

  He saw me and stormed over, face getting redder the closer he got.

  "Look at this," he spat, like I was the one who'd caused the mess.

  "Terrible," I agreed.

  "What are you going to do about it, eh? Who's going to pay for it? I knew I should have never got mixed up with you bunch of freaks."

  I snapped.

  The gap between us closed in an instant and I dangled him two feet off the ground by his scrawny neck and shook him. He mewled and scrabbled at my hands but I just shook him harder until he stopped resisting.

  "You gonna be good?" I asked, all sweetness with threatening undertones. He nodded his head once, even though it pained him to do so. "Okay then." I lowered him to the ground, brushed down his shoulders, straightened his tie, then stepped back and smiled at him.

  "They're animals. Look at this. My business is in ruins, and all because you lot can't control yourselves. Should have never—"

  "If I have to pick you up again, I won't let you back down until you're ready for one of your own coffins," I whispered, in no mood to be insulted, or listen to his whining at such an hour. Or any hour for that matter.

  All he ever did was grumble about the business Dancer sent his way. Even Oskari gave him regular money, and he always found something to complain about. If he wasn't so damn good at his job, and discreet with it, then nobody would go near him.

  "Sorry, sorry, but look at it."

  I took several deep breaths, got myself under control, and said, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

  "I heard a commotion from the bedroom upstairs, came down, and a load of freaks, um, ghouls, were in here ransacking the place. You should see out back, they stole the bodies, all of them. Regulars, not any of you weirdos."

  What was with this guy? Was he going out of his way to get himself killed?

  I pulled out my phone and began to dial a number. Alistair watched nervously and asked, "What are you doing? Who are you calling?"

  "I'm calling Oskari first to tell him you just called all our kind and all Hidden weirdos and that you don't want his business any more. Then I'm going to call Dancer and tell him the same thing. Then I'll get this place cleaned up, leave, and you'll never see any of us ever again." I watched his eyes widen and the sweat bead on his forehead so fast it trickled down his nose. I tapped again, then put the phone to my ear.

  "Wait! Please, no."

  I lowered the phone, not that it had been ringing anyway, then tapped the screen so it looked like I'd canceled the call. "Let's start again shall we? This time, show some respect, or I will make the call. No second chances," I warned. I was getting the hang of the tough gal act, which was rather easy when faced with people as despicable as the Undertaker, as he was unaffectionately known.

  The man had no scruples whatsoever, would do anything for money. I knew for a fact Oskari had Alistair dispose of many bodies by burying them along with his usual paying customers, if the price was right.

  "I apologize, Kate. It's the stress." He didn't look sorry, he looked incensed that I'd got the better of him, but that in itself was reward enough.

  I nodded. "What happened? And save the drama."

  "As I was saying, I came down and there were loads of them, ghouls. They ransacked the place and they were in the back, where we store the bodies."

  "They took them all?"

  Alistair nodded. "All of them. There were seven in there. We have a busy week. Had."

  "Hmm, what did they want them for? The bodies were, um, fresh?"

  "Of course they were fresh! They were in cold storage. I run a professional business here, I'm not about to let them go off."

  "Okay, okay, just asking. Were they embalmed?"

  "Four were, the others were going to be prepped this week. Why?"

  "Just getting the full picture. Okay, so you came down, found them in the back, then what?"

  "Then I shouted at them, told them to get out, but they just looked at me. All vacant like. They dragged the recently deceased out of the back and were gone."

  "You followed them?"

  "I'm not stupid. I hung back for a while, they looked dangerous. When I went out they'd vanished."

  "Okay, well, I'll get a crew to come clean up, and I'll look into it."

  "Look into it? That's it?"

  "That's it." I made to leave but he walked fast and put a hand on my arm as I reached for the door. I turned and stared at him; he released me.

  "Sorry. But you can't go, what if they come back?"

  "They won't be back. Why would they be? And besides, I'll catch up with them and stop them."

  Alistair didn't look convinced but I didn't care. "What's all this about? Nothing like this has ever happened before. Is there something going on I should know about?"

  "No, there isn't. You stick to your business and I'll stick to mine."

  I left, and this time he didn't try to stop me.

  And There's More

  Alistair had stressed me out. There was something about him that made me edgy and more impatient than usual when dealing with the varied characters in the Hidden world.

  He drained me like nobody else, and I left with my all energy sapped. I had to drag my legs to the car, almost getting run over by a bus as I crossed the road. As I sank into cool leather, sleep almost took me, and I could have reclined the chair and dozed the day away.

  Alistair is a form of spiritual vampire, sucking the life force out of everyone he comes into contact with. He's a dark character, spends much of his time immersed in the realms of ghosts and souls trapped between worlds, but when he's in contact with humans he takes their energy, their essence, and feeds on it.

  There's no real name for one such as he, and it wasn't as though he could do anything with what he took, but his company lessened you, left you feeling morose and sad, your emotions unstable and your mind darker, a little closer to the afterlife. He has the perfect job for his character, certainly makes sure those who come to organize a funeral leave feeling as unhappy as they think they should, and his vampiric nature means he does a thriving business, his customers always opting for the most expensive caskets after spending time under his soul-crushing influence.

  He can pass for a true Regular. Alistair will live a normal lifespan, ages normally, can't use magic, ca
ll on the Empty or any of that, but he is human Hidden nonetheless. A soul-sucking, energy-devouring, happiness-destroying grumpy old man. And yes, I am well aware that describes a lot of people in this world, and many may not know it but they are part Hidden, even if they just seem like miserable buggers, which they are.

  Time to go home and rest up, I'd be good for nothing otherwise. I put my seatbelt on, opened the window to get some air and keep myself awake, then started the car.

  My phone rang again. Dancer checking up on me, no doubt. I answered and he said, "Forget Alistair's, we have a bigger problem. More than one actually."

  Boy was he right about that.

  And More

  Dancer gave me a list of places to visit, then kept messaging with more. I ran, drove, walked, then crawled around the city to one location after another, each story a variation on a theme.

  Bodies snatched from the morgue, terminally ill patients wheeled out of the hospital. Nursing homes raided, research labs trashed and all manner of equipment stolen. Chemists looted, pharmacies ransacked, and on and on the list went. Some businesses had our people working in them, but most were run by Regulars and I could do little more than check the scene of the crime, listen to the police talking, or the gossip from the crowds.

  I was beyond exhausted by early afternoon, my head swimming with pointless details about what was taken and how many bodies were missing. The city was in uproar, police cars flashed past everywhere I drove, everyone convinced it was a criminal enterprise, maybe terrorism related, and before long everyone in the city knew what had happened.

  I called home, spoke to Faz briefly, but he was so out of it it was like talking to a ghoul again.