Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection)

by McCray, Carolyn

  Rook gave the working girl the once-over. “Not tonight. I can’t.”

  The prostitute spat at him, but Rook just shrugged it off, but Beauty looked back. “Always the charmer, Rook.”

  “It’s a gift, I tell you,” he replied with a tight grin.

  Angela couldn’t get a read on this man. One moment he was verbally cutting a woman down, right after he helped Fanny with her bags. Angela could still see his countenance when he threatened to drop her from the car. He had been serious. He would have done it. Then she remembered his arms around her, carrying her through the blood and bullets back at the warehouse.

  Which Rook was he?

  * * *

  Beauty opened the door to the tattoo shop. That place was abuzz, literally. Tattoo guns whirred as clients clenched their teeth. The place was sprawling with at least a dozen chairs and several more private rooms.

  Across the tattoo parlor’s main room, she caught the eye of the purveyor of the establishment, Ax-man. Nearly as tall as she, he strode toward her, his leather vest opening to reveal his entire beer belly covered in ink. An arrow pointed down his happy trail.

  Bikers. Always going for the obvious. But he was sweet on her, and right now they needed a little sweet.

  “Beauty!” Ax-man said as he hugged her. “How long has it been?”

  The smile on his face fell, however, as he noticed who walked in behind her.

  He pointed a burly finger at Rook. “That’s far enough.”

  The entire room tensed. Only a few tattoo artists kept working, and only because they were more than likely weaving magic into the ink. If they stopped, they would die. They all might bite it anyway, as artists and clients reached for their guns.

  Rook also pulled a shotgun from inside his coat. “Ax-man, let’s be reasonable. Let us through, or I’ll find out what your intestines look like.”

  Ax-man fumed next to Beauty as she tried to console the biker. “Oh, honey, you know how Rook gets. That’s pretty darn reasonable for him. Especially since we just outran a Tainted Dragon.”

  The biker raised his eyebrows at that. Finally, he kissed her on the cheek. “For you.”

  Beauty returned the peck on the cheek. She certainly hoped that he did not expect any kind of favor in return. Or at least not until after he did some man-scaping.

  Extracting herself from Ax-man’s embrace, Beauty joined the group. Even though there were five of them weaving their way through the tangled maze of tables, all eyes were on Rook. Well, not so much eyes, but death gazes.

  She leaned toward Rook. “Again. So popular.”

  Rapidly, they made their way to the back of the shop. Rook reached out and grabbed a very… well-endowed sculpture and yanked it down. A panel opened beside him. The most fetid odor wafted from the room. How long had it been since someone used this safe house?

  Beauty put a handkerchief over her nose. Rook didn’t really expect them to go in there, did he? But, of course, Fanny rushed right in, gagging, but still excited. The interior was about as obnoxious as the smell. The couch and bed were moldy, and the table and chair looked like they had been through a hurricane… about a hundred years ago.

  Fanny clapped, though. “Rook, you always find the coolest places!”

  Rook grinned briefly, and then turned to Tomahawk. “Put Chad down on the bed. I need you to gather information ASAP.”

  Tomahawk grunted as he set Chad down on the rickety rollaway bed, and then glanced around the room. “That’s going to be a little hard, since I don’t think this place has even got electricity.”

  “Look,” Rook retorted, “I don’t care if you have to put your nose to the ground and sniff really, really long. We need to know who ambushed us back there.”

  Beauty patted Tomahawk’s arm and stepped between them. She didn’t need the two old colleagues to get into one of their legendary spats. “Rook is right. Whoever was able to summon a Tainted Dragon is a major player.”

  “No kidding,” Rook said, as he began pacing the tiny room.

  Angela sat down upon the green-tinged couch, looking more than a little chartreuse herself. Arms wrapped around her waist, the woman closed her eyes, more than likely trying to wish all of this away.

  “And I am sure,” Beauty replied, “that whoever that major player is, he is none to happy that you sent their extremely expensive conjure back to hell.”

  Rook waved her off. “They can sue me for lost wages.” He turned to her. “And aren’t you supposed to be doing something productive?” Rook indicated Chad. “Like arranging for his pickup?”

  Beauty’s eyebrow shot up. “You really want me to call Savage?”

  Rook’s feet froze in place. He frowned, and then grumbled. “No, not until I have more answers.” He turned to Tomahawk. “Which, speaking of, Tommi?”

  Tomahawk got up from his knees, where he was looking for an outlet. “Well, you had better start pulling juice out of your butt, because this place is dry. Plus, I am going to need a landline phone.”

  Clearly irritated, Rook motioned toward the door. “Tell Ax what you need.”

  Tomahawk answered slowly. “And then he will gut me for the sport of it?”

  “He’ll give you whatever you want with Beauty covering you.”

  Oh, how Beauty wished that wasn’t true. Alas, it was. She urged Tomahawk to the door. The sooner they got Rook the information he needed, the sooner he could climb down off his high horse.

  Beauty could only hope that Ax didn’t want to barter for his services. But in the end, Beauty knew she might have to take one for the team. At the very least, she could get Ax to shave his back.

  Oh, a girl could dream.

  * * *

  As the door latch clicked closed, Chad tried to rise, but instead nearly fell off the cot. Rook shook his head. Did the Hellgate-on-earth not realize that moving around was off the menu?

  “Fanny, could you hold him down, please?”

  She ran over, and, with a flying leap, jumped onto the bed. It wasn’t exactly what Rook had in mind, but it worked. He knelt and rummaged through one of Beauty’s many bags. Sure enough, he found a syringe full of Valium with Chad’s name on it—literally. Beauty was just that organized.

  Rook walked over with the syringe, but Chad fought Fanny.

  “No!” he cried as he struggled. “I deserve an explanation.”

  Ignoring the student, Rook tried to find a patch of muscle to inject the Valium into, when another voice joined Chad’s cause.

  “We both do,” Angela stated quietly.

  Rook put a knee on Chad’s shoulder, trying to restrain him. “Yeah, well, unless you’d both like to visit Barney-on-Steroids down in the underworld, I would allow this injection.”

  Fanny leaned over Chad. “He is right. You need to rest, you know… before you explode.” Wistfully, she added, “Although it would be really pretty.”

  As Chad gave Fanny a questioning look, Rook saw his chance and jabbed the needle into the guy’s bicep, pumping him full of happy juice. Finally, Chad stopped fighting as Fanny stroked his hair.

  “There, see? All better.”

  Groggily, Chad shook his head. “Please… Just tell us.”

  Rook let up on the guy’s shoulder and went back to pacing.

  “They might be more cooperative if they knew the truth…” Fanny said, with a little grin.

  Why was it that Rook could never say “no” to her?

  “All right. For those of us who have just joined the program, listen up. I’m only going to cover this once.”

  Pointedly, Rook glared first at Chad, then at Angela. Neither challenged him. Of course, Fanny made herself comfortable sitting cross-legged on the floor. She looked up at him, enthralled.

  “Goody!”

  “Okay,” Rook began. “You know Korea? The Big War? Split the country in half?”

  Angela nodded, but Chad became agitated again. “What’s that got to do—”

  Rook talked over Chad, who turned out not to be a v
ery good student after all. “They set up a demilitarized zone to prevent hostilities spilling over the border, right?”

  Fanny clapped. “Oh, I love this part.”

  “That’s us. Earth. Terra firma. We’re the DMZ between heaven and hell. And guess what? Us humans? We’re the land mines. If they want to get to each other, they’ve got to go through us.”

  Angela frowned, but who didn’t at this news? “Why would—”

  Rook held up a hand. “I don’t make the rules, Babe. I don’t even pretend to understand them. I just play by them.”

  “Tell ‘em about black cats and breaking mirrors and—”

  “You mean superstitions are…” Angela couldn’t even finish her own sentence.

  Rook shrugged. “Stuff isn’t so ‘supernatural’ or ‘paranormal’ when you see it in action. Know what I mean? Any other questions?”

  Angela wouldn’t meet his eyes. And Chad, well, Chad had passed out again. You had to love fast acting antianxiety medications.

  “All right. Lesson over. Now can—”

  Beauty and Tomahawk rushed in the room, both looking flushed.

  “Good news?” he asked, although he knew that was pretty much just wishful thinking.

  “Not even close,” Tomahawk answered. “I can’t access the Cabal’s files. We’re completely locked out of the loop.”

  Rook scoffed. “Bull. You are the kind of hacker that has Microsoft wetting its bed at night.”

  “Given enough time, maybe I could crack the encryption. But here? With these resources?”

  As Rook allowed that unexpected news to marinate, Beauty stepped forward. “Worse, the Prime called. He is sending a team to extract Chad and Angela… Right now.”

  Rook turned to her. “And draw attention to this safe house? Is Savage tweaking?”

  “And he wants each of us brought in for sequestered debriefing.”

  “Did he give you a freaking reason?” Rook demanded.

  Both Tomahawk and Beauty shuffled their feet, looking anywhere but at Rook.

  “Well?”

  Beauty glanced once at Tomahawk, and then sighed. “He said to tell you that you would be instructed on the ‘whys’ when it was time.”

  Rage billowed up from Rook’s core. “That bastard!” He pointed to Tomahawk before he could say anything. “And Savage really is one.” Rook began pacing again. “Damn him. He’s cut us off and expects us to just run to his apron ties.”

  Beauty tried to console him. “Rook, I know that you hate it when orders come down and—”

  “No,” Rook interrupted. “I hate it when my uncle goes on a power trip from his ivory tower, without a clue of what is happening on the street. That is what I hate.”

  He returned to pacing as Tomahawk mulled things over. “Well, after the violet Godzilla back there, they have a pretty good reason to—”

  Rook stopped abruptly. “You’re right.”

  Everyone seemed surprised that Rook had just agreed with Tomahawk, but he bet none of them knew why.

  “About…?” Tomahawk hesitantly asked.

  “Think about it. Savage wouldn’t yank my chain like this without a reason. They know the crap I am going to give them about it.” Rook knew his uncle all too well. “They have something in the works.”

  “Something like…?” Tomahawk asked.

  Rook wasn’t sure, but he could feel the kernel of truth deep within the situation. “Something that Savage knows that I won’t like. They are holding information back because…”

  Fanny jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I love this game! Guess what Rook is thinking! It’s the best!” Rook had to admit that she could mimic him down to the tone as she said, “Because I wouldn’t agree with their plan!”

  Rook smiled. “Or more like I would refuse to go along with it.” Now they were onto something. “We just need to figure out what Savage is up to—”

  The room shook as something slammed against the secret panel. Muffled shouts came from the tattoo parlor. “Beauty…?”

  She avoided his gaze. “I figured. I mean I knew you wouldn’t just obey Savage’s orders, so I did some calling around.”

  Rook glared. “And?”

  Beauty rushed on. “It looks like the Cabal has been negotiating with the facility that we pulled Angela from.”

  Not even Rook had seen that coming, but he should have. Savage really was a bastard.

  “So my uncle’s plan is to return her to Dr. Slavakian, and in exchange, they will share their research with the Cabal?”

  Beauty shrugged, eyes still averted. “They’re saying it is the most time- and cost- effective way to learn about what is happening to Angela.”

  Everyone turned and looked at the Virgin as she backed away from the group.

  * * *

  “No,” Angela moaned as she backed into a wall. She couldn’t get any farther away from the door. “I’m not going back.”

  She could remember the restraints. The lifeless, recirculated air. The stirrups. Perhaps she should have let Rook drop her on the pavement.

  Angela spoke directly to Rook. “Go ahead. Kill me. I’d rather die.”

  He met her stare, but she couldn’t read him. Did he, too, wish he’d dumped her out of that speeding car?

  A loud banging drew his eyes away from hers. Was her plea enough to convince him that she was serious?

  Rook turned to Fanny. “Who’s at the door?”

  The girl closed her eyes and cocked her head. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Even Angela, so new to all of this, knew that Fanny was here, but no longer here.

  Finally, the girl opened her eyes. “Yarden is definitely with them, and I think Sho-Sho, but she’s trying to cloak her presence.”

  Tomahawk hit his fist against the panel. “Then it’s the Cabal. They couldn’t even wait for us to turn ourselves in.”

  Rook turned away from the door, pacing again. Beauty caught his arm. “I know that you’re upset, Rook. But this is big.” Beauty looked at Angela with sympathy in her eyes. “I am so sorry, darlin’, but it’s true.”

  A lot of good Beauty’s sympathy did Angela.

  Beauty turned back to Rook. “This is beyond huge. This eclipses—”

  “Please,” Angela interrupted. She could feel Rook being swayed by his friend. “You told me to trust you.”

  She pleaded with her eyes. He had to know how bad it was back in that warehouse. The question was, did he care?

  His eyes squinted as if he were trying to see into her soul. Angela let him.

  Rook pointed toward the bathroom. “Everyone, come with me.”

  The group looked around, clearly questioning what Rook was getting at. For Angela, as long as he wasn’t leading her to the secret panel, she was following. The rest trailed behind, holding their noses. The smell was putrefaction squared. The toilet overflowed a brown slurry.

  “Man, who used it?” Rook asked.

  Beauty removed the silk handkerchief from her mouth. “I don’t think that’s recent.”

  Angela watched as Rook gulped, then dropped to his knees. Grimacing, he put his hand into the bowl and fished around for something.

  He looked right at her. “You’d better be worth this…”

  * * *

  Beauty stepped closer to the toilet, even though she was certain that even if they survived this at all, the smell would never come out of her herringbone bustier.

  “Rook, think this through. The Cabal isn’t perfect, but they’ve got a pretty good track record—”

  He continued to dig around in the muck. “Tell that to the villagers in Hurra, Colombia.”

  Beauty frowned, not liking where the conversation was going… not at all. “That was an accident.”

  “The Cabal bartered away the Whaler’s Chalice, even though they knew Yarvar wanted it to open up the continental rift.”

  “Well,” Beauty said, picking at the edge of her broken nail. “Nobody’s got a perfect batting record.”

  Rook
was now up to his armpit in sludge. “And Nepal? The Valdez? Turkey?”

  “I know, I know, but—”

  A loud clunk sounded as the toilet moved away from the wall. According to the floor plans, that exit was not supposed to exist. Rook stood up, walked over to the sink, and cleaned off his arm.

  “Look, Beauty, I am not going to pull anyone’s hair out by the roots.” He motioned over to Angela. “But I am not letting them get her.”

  The woman looked immensely relieved, but Beauty felt that reaction was a bit premature. There were worse things than being stuck in a creepy OB-GYN ward. Much worse.

  “It scares me to agree,” Tomahawk said, beside her. “But Rook’s right.” He indicated the sleeping Chad, back in the main room. “Should we throw Savage a bone? Maybe get him off our backs a little?”

  Rook shook his head. “No. We might need him again.”

  Tomahawk took off to grab Chad as Rook guided Angela down the secret escape route. “Last one out, close the hatch.”

  And with that, he was gone. Quickly, Tomahawk gathered Chad, and he too disappeared into the dark tunnel. That left Beauty and Fanny. The younger girl took her hand.

  “We’ll still love you, no matter what you decide.” Fanny got up on her tippy-toes and kissed Beauty on the cheek. “Just go with your heart.”

  She then skipped off and down the tunnel, humming a tune.

  Go with her heart? Well, Beauty definitely wasn’t going with her nose. Behind her, the Cabal was very close to breaking through the secret door.

  Finally, with a sigh, she put the silk handkerchief to her nose and entered the dark passage that led into the sewers.

  There went another pair of Guccis.

  * * *

  Rook pushed up on the sewer grate, but damn, it was heavy! Or he was weak. At this point, it could be either. The day—make that days if you counted the time changes—was taking its toll. He bent his shoulder over and heaved upward, dislodging the metal cap. Quickly, he climbed out of the opening and put a hand out for Angela.

  She scrambled up quickly, clutching her hospital robe around her. They definitely were going to need to get her some street clothes. And after that lovely little trip through the sewer, a shower as well. Actually, as Tomahawk exited with Chad, and Fanny and Beauty followed, looking fairly ratty themselves, they all needed showers.