Awakened Abyss (Firebird Uncaged Book 2)
Page 8
“Don’t worry, I’m not interested in what you two are doing here,” I said, and she looked at me fully.
“Oh?”
“Everyone has their kinks; there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I crossed my legs and shifted in the chair to attempt a more alluring position as the cocktail waitress returned with my drink. Miriam tipped her, and once she was gone I said, “I need your help.”
“Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know. Do you have any experience with lost memories?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“You know, the way you got inside my head before. Could you do it again and look for memories that have been erased, or messed with?”
“Has someone been tampering with your mind?” Miriam sat up in her chair and leaned closer to me.
“Maybe. I’ve had some foggy spots for a while, thought it was a side effect of . . .” Bats, I thought, hitting the ingrained mental block that kept me from divulging my affair with Simeon, even now that he’d been dead for over a year. I’d already lost the job, so it wasn’t like there would be any real consequences if that particular scandal was made public. At this point, I didn’t think anyone would even care. But I cared. I was ashamed of it, and I didn’t want it to be common knowledge among the people I interacted with regularly. Who knew what secrets Miriam might relay to Dirk . . . or Adrian. “Promise you’ll keep this to yourself?” I asked her.
“Not necessarily,” she said in a stern tone. “But I won’t say anything unless I need to.”
I sighed. That would have to be good enough. “Okay. I had a relationship with a vampire.”
“Just now?” she asked. “Yes, well, you’re certainly dressed for it.”
“No. I mean a long-term relationship—all the works, for several years.”
“Oh . . .”
“And he fucked with my head.” I nodded with her as she seemed to make the connection. “I didn’t think there was much of a lingering effect, but I just met a complete stranger who was not a complete stranger, and I’m a little freaked.”
Miriam brightened in recognition. “You mean like that nice English girl at the coffee shop? She said she knew you but you didn’t remember her.”
I paused and frowned slightly, caught off guard. It took me a moment to remember what Miriam was referring to because I’d assumed that girl at the coffee shop—some kind of fortune-telling barista—had only been pretending to know me so she could rope me in as a client.
“Wait . . .” My eyes focused back on Miriam. “She told you she knew me? And you didn’t think to tell me that?”
“You were a bit busy at the time,” she said with a tilt of her head.
“Right,” I said. When Miriam had been at that coffee shop, I’d been trying to keep a crazed ifrit from demolishing an entire city block.
“Anyway . . .” Miriam pointed at my forehead. “You should come see me in the morning so I can take a peek in there.”
I was about to agree, but then I remembered Dirk at my place and figured it would be a good idea to get the whole secret Guardian squad together. Maybe we could braid each other’s hair while we shared notes on what the hell was going on. “Can you come see me instead?” I asked. “I’ll make those cinnamon rolls you like.” They were just the ones from the can, but she didn’t need to know that.
“That sounds splendid.”
I saw Gary walking towards us out of the corner of my eye and raised my voice a bit. “It’ll be so hot and sticky and sweet . . . and then I’ll . . .” I grimaced a little, running out of naughty things to say about cinnamon rolls. “Then I’ll show you my tits.”
“That also sounds splendid, dear,” Miriam said without a hitch.
“Alright.” I picked up my drink, feeling the need to end this conversation. I wanted to leave early so I could pick up Noah and get some sleep in before our morning meeting, but I was sure that would ruin my chances of ever being allowed to dance here again, and even with Soma’s new job offer I wasn’t sure that was a smart play. Jiggling my bra to push my boobs back up to the top, I stood up and swished my hair.
Gary was behind me when I turned, a look of approval on his face. Soma must have said nice things, despite his insistence that I made for a shitty stripper. “I canceled your stage set. You’ve already racked up a long list of requests for private dances.” A slow smile crept up his face. “Everyone wants the new girl.”
Excellent. Leaving early was out the window, but at least I’d make back some of the cash I’d handed to Adrian. And with all the crazy in my life about as taken care of as it could be tonight, I might even have a little fun.
It was a good thing I was so tired at the end of the night, because if I’d been more alert I might have attacked the strange woman in the dressing room mirror whose eyes were darkened with liner and whose curves could only be described as poppin’ under all that black lace.
Instead, I gave her a little wave before I collapsed into a chair and wrenched my feet out of the torture devices I’d stolen from Etty’s closet. Wiggling my toes in the cool air, I sighed in relief. Then I pulled together all the bills I’d made in tips—minus what I’d paid the house—and stacked them neatly before stuffing them in my bag. I couldn’t help the weary smile on my face. This was damn good money, and the occasional shift here might be exactly what I needed to make ends meet while I was funneling most of my bartending cash back into the club.
Okay, maybe not here, I thought as I grimaced at the small cut I’d made earlier on my outer thigh. I hadn’t gotten through the night without a little bleeding, and that wasn’t sustainable since I refused to use the provided vamp saliva for healing. It would be fine once I made it to Ray’s and had his help, but in the meantime I could use a bandage.
I got up and relished in the feeling of my bare feet on the cool floor as I made my way towards the bathroom, where there would at least be some paper towels I could tie around my leg before putting my jeans on. It was nice to get away from the laughter and loud voices of the other dancers getting ready to go home; my head was pounding, and I couldn’t wait to be somewhere quiet.
But the silence in the hallway was broken by a giggle that rang in the back of my head, making the pounding worse.
I stopped, recognition taking hold. I’d heard that giggle before.
It sounded again, faintly, seeming to echo and vibrate in the walls around me. Was I imagining it? Could be, as tired as I was. But I didn’t think so.
Stepping forward, I moved past the door to the bathroom and followed the eerie vibrations of weak laughter down a dimly lit corridor. A sickly sweet, rotten scent made its way to my nose, and it only got stronger as the giggling got louder.
It led me to a door that looked ordinary. I tried the handle—locked. Of course. Licking my lips, I fought the urge to start kicking. The last thing I needed was to be caught destroying property in a fancy club run by vampires that I might want to keep working at. Instead, I grabbed the chalice that was still strapped to my thigh and pulled out the tiny knife.
It just barely fit inside the lock, so I wiggled it around hoping to hear a click. No luck.
Sighing, I pulled out the blade and slid it in between the door and the jamb, then worked at the bolt until I managed to push it back inside the door.
With a creak, the door cracked open, and my stomach turned as I inhaled the stinking air inside the room.
So this must be where they keep the dead bodies. I reached in and slid my hand up the wall to find a light switch.
When I flicked it on, I was more convinced than ever that I must be hallucinating. There were no dead bodies in sight. Instead, it looked like someone had built some sort of creepy gnome shrine.
A terracotta figurine of a child-sized goblin-like creature stared at me with a demonic grin on its face. Flies swarmed around it, some perching on it only to get stuck in the shiny, sticky substance that was smeared all over the thing. In its arms, a shallow bowl was crusted over w
ith dried blood—and what looked like some fresh blood pooled in the center.
“What the . . .” I walked up to it and ran the tip of my finger along the top of its head, then pulled my hand back along with some of the sticky substance. I rubbed it between my fingers. The golden color and slightly granular texture looked familiar, as did the scent when I brought it to my nose.
Honey.
The rotting meat smell was probably from whatever had been drained for the blood.
Well, gross. This was not what I’d expected to find in the basement of a swanky strip club, even one owned by vampires.
The figurine looked eerily alive as I wiped my fingers against the wall, despite the fact that it was unmoving.
“What are you looking at?” I said, and then I heard the laughter again, echoing all around me.
My instincts were telling me to find a way to burn the thing, even though I had no clue what it was or why it was here. But then I heard voices in the hall along with footsteps drawing close.
I ran back to the door and shut off the light, then ducked behind some boxes that were stacked up against the wall. A key turned in the lock on the door, and the lights went back on as Gary walked in, followed by another person I couldn’t see.
“The blood,” Gary said, turning to his companion and holding out a chalice like the one that was still strapped to my thigh. Liquid splashed against metal, and then Gary turned around and poured it from the chalice into the clay statue’s bowl. He muttered a few phrases in a language I’d never heard.
The eerie laughter came back with a vengeance, ringing throughout the room loudly before fading into the walls as an echo.
“How many more?” said a raspy voice from behind Gary. It felt somewhat familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it.
“I can’t say . . . not yet. But soon.” Gary paused. “Do you hear something? I think . . .”
I held my breath, hoping that neither of these bloodsuckers were old enough to hear my heartbeat from across the room. If they were, my blood would be the next thing fed to the rotting honeyed fly goblin over there. At least the pungent stench in here probably masked the scent of my blood.
“Nothing but your excuses,” said the raspy voice. “Come. We have work to do.”
“Of course.” Gary followed the mystery man out through the door and shut off the light again.
I started breathing again slowly, immediately regretting it as the rotten smell filled my nostrils. Not only was this unpleasant to say the least, it was also unnerving to be stuck in here in the dark with this horror show and the familiar laughter. How long would I have to wait to ensure no one caught me? And how long could I wait here before someone noticed my stuff was still in the dressing room without me?
After a few minutes and nothing but silence outside, I decided to chance it. I slipped out of the darkness into the empty hallway and all but tiptoed back to the bathroom, where I futilely pressed a bunch of paper towels against the crusted-over wound on my thigh.
I texted Adrian as soon as I got back to the dressing room, knowing there was no other course of action at this point. I had seared the image of the honey goblin in my mind, remembering every detail so I could relay it to him accurately. Not only was this probably connected to what I’d witnessed in the Metro tunnels this morning, it was also just the kind of random-ass crazy bullshit that he might know something about.
“Huh,” Adrian said after I’d finished explaining what had happened in the basement of the club. “I have no idea what that could be. Are you sure you can’t remember any of the words he chanted?”
“It was a language I’d never heard before. Not exactly easy to process. Sorry.”
He shook his head, looking away from me and stuffing his hands in his coat pockets as the wind picked up around us. We were standing on a street corner a few blocks from the club, waiting for a car to pick us up. Since we both lived across the river, he’d agreed to ride with me to Ray’s so I could grab Noah before going home.
“I’ll hit the books tomorrow and see if I can find anything. There’s no use arresting anyone until we have some sense of what they’re up to.”
“Right,” I said, but I was only half listening to him at this point. The familiar giggle was bouncing around in my brain again, making my stomach sink.
I turned around, looking for the source even though I knew I wouldn’t see anything. There was a Metro entrance just a little way behind us, the glow of the lights underground carrying out of the stairwell. The laughter seemed to carry with it, beckoning me to descend.
“Darcy?” Adrian touched my shoulder.
I turned to see him standing in front of our ride, which had pulled up by the curb.
“Do you hear that? The laughter?”
He shook his head slowly, looking behind me, his frown deepening in confusion.
“Just . . . can you ask him to wait? I want to check something out.” I walked away before letting him answer, following the trills of laughter to the descending stairs.
Was the Metro even open still? The gates weren’t closed yet, but I was sure they would be soon, at this time of night.
Not worth it, I thought, ready to turn back around and climb into the car with Adrian. Like he had said, there was no point in going after something if I didn’t know what it was or how to kill it.
But then I saw a figure standing at the bottom of the stairs, its back to me.
Noah. With his light-blue school uniform and his curly mop of blond hair that was getting a little darker every day.
More giggles reverberated up the walls of the stairwell, getting crueler as they climbed.
I gripped the railing, trying to tear myself away. Rationally, I knew that thing down there probably wasn’t Noah. But could it be? Unless the actual kid was here to hold my hand, some part of me had to wonder.
Then the figure turned, just like it had when I’d seen it before, with wrinkly, sagging skin surrounding dull eyes that looked nothing like Noah’s. And this time, flies swarmed around it, some crawling on its cheeks and creeping into its mouth as it grinned at me with crooked yellow teeth.
The giggles turned into screams, and for a moment I thought I saw faces stretching out at me from the walls around the creature—faces of the dead, their eye sockets hollow and lips cracking as they stretched open impossibly wide.
The faces retreated back into the walls, and arms reached out at me in their place. Skeletal and spectral at the same time, they stretched up over the flight of at least a hundred steps in an instant, wrapping their cold fingers around my extremities and pulling.
It didn’t hurt; in fact, I couldn’t feel much at all. It was like I was dreaming, all my senses muddied and detached. I tried to pry myself away from them, but the message didn’t go through. No part of me moved except my tired feet, which calmly stepped down the first few stairs.
A strong hand closed on my shoulder, stealing my focus, and suddenly I was at the top of the steps again, as if I’d never moved.
I blinked and the spectral arms were gone, the faces along with them. Only the creature with Noah’s body remained, still grinning at me as flies crawled out from between its teeth. A swarm of the black bugs grew around it, engulfing it far too quickly before the whole vision disappeared altogether.
I stood stock still, swallowing the bile in my throat and trying to work out whether all that had really just happened.
“Hey.” Adrian’s voice finally made its way to my ears as my grip on reality returned. “Darcy, what the hell? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I said, turning around and dislodging his hand from my shoulder.
“Uh . . .” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What just happened?”
A car horn sounded, and I turned my head to see the ride we’d called flashing its lights.
I held up a finger, graciously not my middle finger, hoping the driver would wait. “Did you see anything? Just now? Down there?” I asked Adrian, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
Adrian shook his head at me. “No, why? Did you see something?”
“Did you hear anything?” I asked, ignoring his question.
“You mean aside from our angry driver?”
Fuck. Batshit crazy must be my answer, then. “Yeah, must’ve been that,” I said, doing my best to chuckle. It came out as a pathetic choking sound, but I shrugged it off and turned towards the car. “Come on, can’t keep him waiting.”
“Wait.” Adrian moved his body in front of mine, looming over me without touching me, blocking my view of the car. “What just happened? Seriously. If you saw something I didn’t, it could be important.”
There he went with his reasonable thinking again, and my own head cleared a little as I focused my eyes on the reassuring expression on his face. His lips were parted slightly, soft and inviting, and his eyes held mine with an unwavering sharp intensity that told me he wanted to listen to whatever I had to say.
He was right; it could be important. But that didn’t change the fact that it was Noah I’d seen. And if it was anything other than all in my head, that meant the kid was somehow involved. I’d taken him under my wing with the knowledge that I’d have to be wary, constantly watch him for signs of . . . hunting people and eating their souls. Baz and his murderous auntie had clearly warned that it was a common thing to happen to any of his kind who got a taste of the good stuff.
So if Noah was involved, I’d have to treat him like a suspect. And so would Adrian.
I didn’t want the kid to have an official record, didn’t want him held in police custody, didn’t want to see him in cuffs. Even if he truly was killing people, if he truly was a monster—I wanted to handle it myself. If I needed help taking him down, then I’d ask for it; but I wouldn’t subject him to any of that cruel treatment until I knew for sure it was necessary. My responsibility as the kid’s guardian would come before my responsibility as a professional Guardian every time.