*
A loud crash sent Mark rushing to the bathroom. He only knocked once before trying the knob. When it didn’t give, he lifted his foot, easily kicking the door in. Anne was curled into a ball inside the tub. The shower curtain had been ripped from the rod and was on top of her as if she’d taken it down with her in a fall. A quick inspection showed she wasn’t hurt but she also wasn’t responding.
“Come on, Anne, wake up.” He patted her cheek and then checked her pulse. It beat steady and he could see her chest rising with each breath. She was alive. Lifting her into his arms, he ignored the water soaking through his clothes as he strode into the bedroom. Once she was settled on the bed, he rushed back to the bathroom, turned the water off and snagged a towel from the hook. He returned to her side and rubbed her down with the towel, drying her off as well as he could under the circumstances. He tried to look at her as clinically as possible but it was hard with her completely exposed to his eyes. Luckily, his fear over her health overrode his body’s reaction to her.
To be on the safe side, he rummaged through her bag until he found a t-shirt and panties. It wasn’t easy covering up her gorgeous body but he carefully dressed her. He had a feeling she was going to be embarrassed when she came to, but he suspected it would be worse if she woke up naked.
With his task complete, he pulled his soaked t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside before climbing into bed next to her. He thought to pull her into his arms and offer his warmth, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, Anne’s eyes shot open. Her wide gaze seemed almost sightless as she stared at him.
“Are you okay?” He spoke softly, hoping she wouldn’t freak out.
She blinked rapidly as if attempting to bring him into focus. Her teeth chattered so hard he could hear them knocking together and he pulled her into his arms. She tucked her head underneath his chin. Her entire body shook until his own teeth rattled. He waited until it subsided before asking again, “Are you okay?”
“This place is bad. Horrible things happened in this apartment,” she whispered against his chest and he held her even tighter.
“What happened in the shower?”
“I don’t know what’s real when I’m here.”
“Did you see something?”
She shook her head. “I’m so tired.” Her voice sounded faint.
*
Anne slept soundly until around one-thirty and then startled awake without knowing what had caused her do so. She was going to sit up but Mark reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her. Since they were both facing each other, she could see him staring at the corner of the room near her head. It was frightening to not be able to turn around to see what was happening behind her, but she could tell by the look on his face she didn’t want to know.
A sound of water dripping from a tap seemed unnaturally loud and close. Every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation of an attack. After holding her breath until she thought her lungs would explode, she finally whispered, “What’s going on?”
Mark’s eyes moved to hers and she could tell he was every bit as tense as she was. “Don’t move.”
She thought her mind would snap. If something horrible was behind her, she wanted to see it coming. Moving slowly, she rolled to her side. It took a few moments for her brain to process the scene and when it did, she gagged. A man hung suspended from the ceiling. His nude body was covered in deep gashes and blood seeped from each one explaining the dripping noise. His empty eye sockets and wide stretched mouth had bile rising in Anne’s throat. Beneath his body, a naked Pamela sat with her head thrown back allowing one of the streams of blood to flow over her face. With a knife gripped between her fingers, she slowly sliced across her arm moaning in pleasure as blood poured from each wound. A black horned beast knelt between her feet. The muscles of his back flexed and his head moved in such a way as there could be no doubt as to what his mouth was doing. The growling noises he made as he ate at Pamela’s pussy made Anne’s stomach heave.
She was more scared than she’d ever been in her life. Blood splattered the walls and chunks of flesh littered the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and Mark slid his arm over her. With a sharp tug, he pulled her closer before inching them both off the other side of the bed. Pamela lifted her head and they both froze. She seemed lost in the throes of her twisted ecstasy and they slipped an inch farther away as she began to pant heavily. Her lips peeled back from her teeth as she snarled and her muscles began to jerk. Throwing her head back once more, she screamed and the black-horned demon transformed into a cloud of locusts.
“Holy shit,” Mark breathed behind her.
The locusts shot into the air and flew into Pamela’s mouth, disappearing. They were fucked. It was the only thing Anne was absolutely sure of. This time when Pamela lifted her head, her eyes honed in on Anne. She licked the blood from her lips.
“It doesn’t taste as good as you did.” She closed her eyes as if savoring the memory. “Your pussy is so sweet. It reminds me of honey and innocence. In case you’re wondering, your sister tastes very different. She’s more like wild berries and untamed desire.”
“What did you do to my sister?” Anne lashed out before she could stop herself and Mark held her back. Instead of becoming enraged, Pamela chuckled. A sickly trail of blood smeared across her body as she smoothed her hands over herself. A deep demonic moan fell from her lips as she cupped her sex.
“Move!” Mark yelled springing to his feet but Anne wasn’t as quick. Her feet entangled in the sheets. She twisted at the knot and made it halfway off the bed before Pamela stood. Anne froze in horror as Pamela’s body twisted at an odd angle and crawled up the wall. The man’s dead body hanging from the ceiling fell the ground with a sickening thump as Pamela slinked across the ceiling. Anne kept her eyes locked on Pamela. A scream ripped from Anne’s throat as she pounced. Mark dove for the bed, covering Anne with his body before Pamela could make contact.
“By the powers of light be gone!” he screamed and everything went silent. Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, Anne prayed harder than she’d ever prayed in her life. The sound of Mark’s breathing sounded strained in her ear and she could barely suck in enough oxygen to stay conscious with him squishing her to the bed, but she was too scared to move. Without warning, a heart-wrenching sob tore from her throat and Mark smoothed the hair away from her face.
“It’s okay, Anne. I swear. It’s okay. Come on, baby. Open your eyes.”
The sound of his voice finally penetrated her fear-soaked brain and she peeked one eye open. His body blocked out the rest of the room and his sweet brown eyes went far toward calming her racing heart. Shoring up her courage, she turned her head toward the blood-spattered wall to find only bright yellow paint.
Her mouth opened to ask what the fuck was going on, but the words lodged in her throat. Mark stood and tugged her to her feet as if she weighed no more than a doll. She peered around the room in shocked amazement. The room was every bit as clean as it had been when Mark carried her to bed earlier. It was as if nothing happened there.
Mark was throwing their stuff into bags. “Come on, baby. Snap out of it. We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
More tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t seem to get them to stop or tear her eyes away from where Pamela had been seated. “My sister,” she whispered hoarsely when she found her voice. “Oh my God, Mark. What did that thing do to my sister?”
* * * * *
Instead of heading straight back to Mark’s house, he drove them to an old greasy spoon a few blocks away from the apartment. The smells of food cooking and the sounds of people chattering helped to wash away the un-realness of what had taken place a few moments earlier.
Anne blew on the coffee trying to cool it off enough to take a sip. When she couldn’t stop her hands from trembling, a few drops spilled onto the table. Mark reached over, took it from her. He set it on the table.
“You okay?”
It would have been easy to l
ie but there was something about Mark. Once he had his full attention leveled on her, she wanted to tell him everything she felt and thought. “I’m lightheaded and queasy.”
He took her hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
She looked around at the neighboring tables to see if anyone was listening before leaning forward to whisper, “Are you certain? What if we were followed? What if whatever this is won’t leave us alone until we’re dead the same as Kylie?”
He released her hand. Standing, he waited for her to scoot over on the bench seat. As soon as there was enough room to sit, he slid in beside her. The moment they were side by side, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His warmth felt lovely in the chilled air-conditioned restaurant and the weight of his arm was reassuring. In spite of both of those things, Anne couldn’t stop a tear from sliding down her cheek. She wiped it away and tried to gain some control over her emotions.
Mark whispered in her ear, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Anne looked into his eyes and wanted with all her heart to believe him. “Do you have special powers I don’t know anything about?”
He kissed the end of her nose. “Maybe one day I’ll show you my special powers but right now I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”
Both of her eyebrows rose and a girly giggle slipped out before she could stop it.
He shook his head and grinned. “Alone,” he clarified. “You haven’t slept much in days and I’m not certain you’re capable of withstanding one more bad thing happening. When you wake up I’ll take you to talk to Madame Curion, but not a moment sooner.”
“What happened back there? I always thought Kylie was crazy seeing and talking to all those dead people, but even those things don’t feel as crazy as what we just saw. That was pure evil. I don’t understand why this entity or whatever it is would even be interested in me of all people. I have nothing in common with Kylie. I have never been concerned about the spirit world or what happens after death. In fact, I’ve always avoided the topic.”
She picked the coffee cup up again and took a sip. “I thought if I pretended Kylie was crazy, I would never have to see the things she saw or hear the things she heard. Living people are hard enough to comprehend. Why would I want to understand the dead?” She set the cup back down, but kept her fingers wrapped around it for its warmth. “Maybe I should have paid more attention.”
Mark squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t think it would have made any difference. It didn’t help Kylie.” Mark looked across her head out at the dark parking lot. “Kylie must have done something to attract this demon’s attention but I have no idea how we go about figuring what it was.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not as if I can drag it down to headquarters for interrogation.”
A crazy thought hit Anne. “Maybe this is where Madame Curion fits into the story. Maybe when Kylie talked to her about her problem she sent her to someone who knew how to fix it. Just because we don’t know anything about demons doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there who does.”
“I don’t think we’re going to solve anything tonight,” Mark said as he pulled out his wallet. “We might as well head home.”
She nudged Mark. “Agreed. Now, let’s go to bed.”
This time it was his eyebrows shooting upward.
“You said alone, remember? Besides, I want to get some sleep and then I’m going to go find out everything this Madame Curion told Kylie. I bet anything she knows exactly who Kylie talked to and I’m willing to bet my last dollar whoever it is knows what happened to my sister and why.”
Chapter Five
It was wonderful what a couple of hours of sleep could do for a person. Mark was as good as his word in making certain nothing happened to her while she slept. He stayed by her side until she fell asleep and was there when she woke up. He waited outside the bathroom door while she showered. As soon as she was dressed, she wanted to rush over to meet the psychic, but he insisted on taking her out for a late breakfast. She had never had anyone in her life who had taken such an interest in her welfare. She found it sweet and comforting, but soon enough the strong odor of incense burning was stinging Anne’s nose. She’d never understood how anyone could stand the smell of it.
The inside of Madame Curion’s Fortunes was exactly as Anne pictured such a place to be. A flashing neon hand with an eye in the center of its palm hung in the window. Purple, sheer lace covered the lights casting an eerie glow throughout the room. Mark had fought her tooth and nail over her going in alone, but in the end Anne wore him down. If the psychic had lied, or at the very least omitted information the last time they spoke, Anne doubted Mark’s presence would help her get answers. In the end, he’d agreed to wait outside but he was not happy with her about it.
Anne pushed the worry aside. She was there for a reason. Concentrating on her surroundings, she took note of the only employee in sight. A young girl with unnaturally black hair, lips and fingernails sat perched on a stool behind the cash register looking bored. Her skin was a stark white in comparison to her dark clothing.
“Welcome to Madame Curion’s Fortunes. How can I help you?” This welcome speech was delivered with the lack of enthusiasm only a teenager could pull off.
“I’m hoping to speak to Madame Curion, if I can? My sister, Kylie, worked here before her death.”
“You’re related to Kylie?” the clerk asked dropping the monotone act. “I didn’t know she had any family. Wait right there and I’ll get Madame for you.” Springing from her chair, Anne watched as the light flickered off the silver skull buckles of the girl’s boots as she crossed the room. At a curtain-covered doorway, she poked her head in and whispered something Anne could not hear. The curtain ripped back revealing the woman standing behind it.
In sharp contrast to the gothic teenager, this woman was shiny. Anne couldn’t think of a better way to describe her. Her hair was platinum blonde and huge gold-hooped earrings dangled from her ears. Her eyes were bright blue and her flowing dress was a pink near to being considered neon. Anne almost felt the need to squint while looking directly at her as if staring into the sun.
The woman eyed her from head to toe. “Miss Trace,” she called in a dreamy voice.
Anne nodded and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about my sister. Do you know if she had anything odd happening to her before she died? Did she act as if she was— I don’t know—haunted?” she finished lamely before she could change her mind.
The woman gasped. Spinning on heel, she rushed away returning a scant second later holding an amber colored vial.
“I see it all now,” the Madame explained as she popped the cork from the bottle and flicked the bitter smelling contents in Anne’s direction.
Anne watched in horrified fascination as the arch of liquid hung in the air before splashing to the floor at her feet. A few drops hit her leg before rolling down into her shoe.
“What the fuck?”
“Your family is cursed, Miss Trace. You’ve brought the devil to my door,” she said as she jerked the curtain closed once more. Anne stood blinking at the dark curtains, unable to form a single coherent thought.
“What the fuck?” she repeated.
“Agrimony oil,” the teenager explained. “It’s used to ward homes against evil spirits.”
“She flung shit at me,” Anne said half in shock and half with a new understanding of what Kylie must have endured on a daily basis.
“Are you really Kylie’s sister?” Goth girl asked, pulling Anne out of her haze. “She said she didn’t have a family.”
Anne felt a sad smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “I was a terrible sister,” she admitted. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes at the confession. “I thought she was crazy.”
Cocking her head, the girl eyed her closely. “And now?” she asked curiously.
“I think I might have been wrong.”
Glancing away, the girl sta
red at the closed curtain as if an internal argument raged inside her head. Finally, with a decisive nod, she moved back to the register and fished something out from beneath it. It was a solid black business card. Twirling it between her fingers once as if still unsure, she sighed and handed it over.
“Kylie was my friend and if you’re serious about finding out what really happened to her then this is your guy. Tell him Jade sent you.”
The card felt heavier than any she’d ever held before. It was almost as if it was made from a very thin layer of leather instead of paper. Running her fingers over the gold embossed letters, she read, “Kieran Desdemona, Collector of fine goods.” An address was printed on the back but there wasn’t a phone number.
“Should I make an appointment?”
Jade shook her head. “Just show up after dark and he’ll find you.” She eyed Anne’s blue jean cut off shorts and tank top. “You might want to find something sexy to wear or you’re going to get eaten alive.”
That didn’t sound good.
* * * * *
“What was Liam’s father like?”
A small smile touched Delphine’s lips and she stared off in the distance. Kylie knew without having to be told she was picturing him in her mind.
“He was arresting,” she said after a minute. “And I was powerless against him.” Kylie smiled at the description and the happiness in Delphine’s voice. Whatever had become of their relationship, it had been a love match.
“Liam reminds me a lot of him,” she added. “I see it every time I look at him. He has his father’s wicked intelligence. Don’t tell him I said that. He hates it when I compare him to his father.”
Kylie pretended to zip her lips. “I won’t say a word.” She couldn’t help herself. “You seem so young. I swear you don’t look a day older than Liam.”
Humor lit Delphine’s face. “That’s the problem with folks who can see everything. Eventually, they go blind.”
Pure Hell (Seventh Level Book 1) Page 9
