Lucy: A Paragon Society Novel (Book 3)

by David Delaney

  “Wasn’t I in the hospital?” Lucy asked.

  “What? Hospital?” Morgan was confused. “No, we’ve been here for like an hour. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, I feel fine. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . something feels off.”

  Morgan nodded. “Yeah. I’m still really pissed. Marcus should have told us there could be side-effects.”

  Side-effects?

  The ritual bath, something had gone wrong.

  “The woman and the shadow-monster, of course,” Lucy said. “We’re here because I had that scary vision.”

  “Exactly,” Marcus’ smooth voice answered as he walked into the room. He was carrying a tray loaded down with glasses. “I’ve brought an assortment of juices—apple, orange, peach—please help yourself, especially you, young lady,” Marcus said, placing the tray on the table in front of Lucy. “I think your blood sugar is playing tricks on you.”

  “My blood sugar? I thought I was experiencing side-effects from the magic?” Lucy asked, gladly grabbing a glass of peach juice and taking a big swallow.

  “Yes, you definitely had . . . let’s call it a bad trip,” Marcus said.

  “A bad trip?” Morgan scoffed. “She just totally freaked out, shouting about guns and bears, and some girl named Maddie.”

  “Morgan.” Marcus didn’t shout, but the tone of his voice shut Morgan up instantly. “As I was saying, magic can sometimes play horrible tricks on our minds. We can see things, hear things, even convince ourselves that imaginary events are real.”

  “Why didn’t you warn us?” Lucy asked.

  “My deepest apologies,” Marcus said, taking Lucy’s hand. “In my experience, ritual baths aren’t strong enough to cause this sort of reaction. You, my dear Lucy, must be particularly sensitive to magical energy. It’s a rare gift.”

  Lucy didn’t miss the flash of emotion that lit up his eyes. Was it anger? No, not anger, jealousy. Marcus was jealous of Lucy’s reaction to the magic, but why? Marcus was like the Michael Jackson of magic, his lifestyle, the very house they were sitting in, were proof that he could manipulate a power that most people didn’t even know existed.

  Lucy was about to ask him why he would be jealous of her when Morgan said, “A gift? Freaking out and seeing things that aren’t there is not a gift. Is it permanent, is Lucy going to be okay?”

  “I feel fine,” Lucy said.

  “Yeah, right now, but what about later?”

  “Morgan, there is no need to worry,” Marcus said, his impatience clear. “The reaction isn’t permanent, and I feel the worst is over. The good news is that Lucy’s natural sensitivity will make the money spell that much stronger. Your trip to Las Vegas should be very successful.”

  Morgan’s jaw dropped. “Vegas? We’re not going to Vegas, not after this.”

  “Of course we are,” Lucy told Morgan.

  “Lucy . . .” Morgan began in a superior, mansplaining tone.

  Lucy held up her hand. “Don’t even. I make my own decisions. I’m going to Vegas, you can come or stay, I don’t care.”

  Lucy stood up. “Thanks, Marcus. Sorry I crashed your day. I sometimes worry too much.”

  “Nonsense. I’m glad you came to see me. And if you have any other questions,” Marcus gave Morgan a sidelong glance and grinned as he handed Lucy a business card. “Please don’t hesitate to call me, day or night.”

  “I will.” Lucy smiled, her face flushing just a bit as she took the card.

  Morgan stood silently, jaw clenched.

  “Forgive me for asking,” Marcus said, “but as you’re on your way to Sin City, I feel I must know—how are you two going to get around the restriction on underage gambling?”

  Lucy laughed. “That’s easy, fake IDs. I’ve been hitting the LA club scene since I was sixteen.” Lucy leaned toward Marcus and whispered, “I hope you’ll keep our secret.”

  “Oh, of course my dear, mum’s the word,” said Marcus.

  “I don’t have one,” Morgan said flatly.

  Lucy looked at him. “What?”

  “An ID, I don’t have one anymore. My mom found it. There was lot’s of yelling and, well, she took it”

  Lucy let out an exasperated sigh. “Then why did you agree to come to Vegas, and why did you even bother with the ritual bath?”

  Morgan blinked, rapidly, and his mouth opened and closed a few times but no words came out.

  “Yes, Morgan. Why indeed?” Marcus said with a leer.

  “I’m going to keep you company . . . Vegas is, you know, fun and everything,” Morgan stammered.

  Lucy placed her hands on her hips and glared at Morgan. She was not happy.

  “I think I can be of assistance with this small hiccup,” Marcus said, reaching for the telephone.

  Marcus called a person that he only referred to as an associate. The conversation was quick and to the point.

  Marcus hung up and turned to Lucy and Morgan. “My associate has a talent for securing hard-to-get items. They have agreed to provide Morgan with the required identification for the trip. And because I was remiss in explaining the possible side-effects of ceremonial magic, I will pay the fee.”

  “That’s so rad,” Lucy bounced up and down. “Isn’t that rad, Morgan?”

  Morgan was eyeing Marcus, a troubled look on his face.

  “Morgan?” Lucy repeated.

  Morgan snapped out of his funk. “Yeah, that’s totally awesome. Thanks, Marcus.”

  Marcus smiled and dipped his head.

  “Let me just write down my associate’s address and you two can be off.”

  Marcus stood on the enormous stone porch as Lucy and Morgan pulled away from the house, his two guard dogs flanking him again. Lucy waved enthusiastically through her open window and Marcus smiled back.

  Marcus’ associate lived way up in the hills, off Mulholland Canyon. Morgan navigated the twisting roads in silence. Lucy glanced at him every few minutes, but he stayed focused on the road.

  “Are you mad at me?” Lucy finally asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you giving me the silent treatment?”

  Morgan let out a sigh. “How are you not scared? You had a melt-down, like a total freak-out, and you’re acting like nothing happened.”

  “Marcus explained that I’m just extra sensitive.”

  “Yeah, and that’s all he said. He didn’t explain what was happening to you, just why it was happening.”

  Lucy thought about their conversation with Marcus. Huh? He hadn’t really explained what was happening, why she was seeing what she was seeing. He had said something about leakage? What was that again? Accessing power could cause a leak; yeah, that was it. He had never explained what was leaking.

  Lucy had been so caught up in the idea that her ritual bath was extra-powerful that she hadn’t paid attention to anything else. If Morgan had his way, they wouldn’t go to Vegas—and that wasn’t an option. Lucy didn’t just want the money, she needed it, and if that meant that she had to put up with leakage that caused her to see creepy things, then so be it.

  “He did say the worst of it was past,” Lucy pointed out.

  “How does he know that? Is he some kind of magic doctor? We’re messing around with things we don’t fully understand.”

  “Morgan, I’m going. I don’t care about all the other stuff.”

  “All the other stuff? You mean like possible brain damage?”

  “Are you calling me brain-damaged?”

  “No. Of course not, I’m just saying.”

  “Good, because it sounded like you were calling me brain-damaged.” Lucy shifted in her seat to face Morgan as he drove. “Listen carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself. Did something weird happen to me during my bath? Yes, but I think that just proves that magic is real and that makes me excited. I trust Marcus.”

  Morgan snorted.

  Lucy continued, “I trust Marcus when he says it’s nothing serious, and that
I’m just more sensitive to the magical energy or whatever. I’m going to Vegas as the final test. If we don’t win any money, I’ll be bummed. But if we do win . . . Morgan, think about it. If we do win, that means magic is real and it changes everything.”

  Morgan tilted his head. He didn’t take his eyes off the road, that would be stupid on these canyon roads, but he was listening.

  “And if I find out magic is real, I want my best friend by my side,” Lucy finished.

  Morgan blew out a long, slow breath. “Okay, I’m in. But I’m going to watch you like a hawk. If you start freaking out in any way . . .”

  “Then you have my permission to save me. That’s what best friends are for,” Lucy said, smiling.

  Lucy double-checked the address for the fake ID guy; they were at the right house. Who ever said crime didn’t pay had never met this person. The house was at the top of Mulholland with 360-degree views of the Valley on one side and West Los Angeles on the other. She could even see the ocean in the distance.

  “Nice digs,” Morgan commented.

  The name included with the directions was Piper. As they stepped out of the car, Lucy realized she didn’t know if Piper was a first name or last name. It sounded like a last name, but she couldn’t be sure. She quickly checked the paper with the directions. Marcus’ elegant writing was easy to read, the name at the top of the page simply read Piper. Great. Lucy pulled Morgan to a stop and explained her dilemma.

  “Just go with Mr. Piper, it works either way,” he suggested.

  At the front door, after spending a minute searching for a nonexistent doorbell, they finally just knocked. The door was solid, like one large slab of wood that had been sanded down and hung in place. Their knocks sounded small, the dense timber swallowing up the noise.

  Almost immediately Lucy heard somebody on the other side disengaging locks, many, many locks. Apparently Mr. Piper was paranoid. The massive door swung open noiselessly revealing a tall, black woman. The lady had to be over six feet tall. She even towered over Morgan and her size matched her height. She wasn’t fat, just big. When Lucy thought of really tall people, she imagined people like the Lakers—long, lanky basketball players. This woman was long, but not even close to lanky. Lucy didn’t know what she’d been expecting. This woman was definitely not it.

  “Hi . . . um . . . we’re supposed to meet a . . . um . . . a Mr. Piper?” Lucy said weakly.

  The woman stared down at the two of them, her eyes bright and assessing. Then she laughed. It wasn’t a scary laugh, but the suddenness of it made Lucy and Morgan jump.

  “I’ve been called many things,” the woman began. She sounded Australian, but Lucy couldn’t be sure. “Mr. Piper is a first though. Come in, please.”

  Lucy glanced at Morgan, who shrugged. Lucy took a deep breath and walked into the house, Morgan close on her heels. The place was amazing. The entire back of the building was glass, allowing unobstructed views to the west, and the décor was totally cool—white sofas, large modern art prints and neon lighting accents. Lucy was wowed, she could totally see herself living in a place like this.

  “So you’re Mr—I mean . . . um, Ms. Piper?”

  “Just Piper will do.”

  Piper had an open friendly face. Lucy couldn’t help but like her.

  “Marcus has sent you to me, which means my home is your home.” Piper gestured to the sofas. “Please, sit down, I’ll be right back with some refreshments.”

  When Piper disappeared into what was presumably the kitchen Morgan turned to Lucy and said, his voice low, “What the hell? You’d think Marcus would give us a heads-up.”

  “She seems totally cool.”

  “Yeah, but she looks like she could play power-forward for the Lakers. I almost gasped when she opened the door. I’ve never met somebody so tall and she’s a woman.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “So? Are you saying a woman can’t be a . . . whatever her job title is?”

  “Job title?” Morgan squeaked. “She’s like a mobster or something. I mean, look at this place. It’s like we stepped into an episode of Miami Vice.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic? Are you serious?” Morgan went quiet when Piper walked back into the room. She held a tray loaded with wine and cheese.

  Piper laid the tray on a low glass table, poured three glasses of wine and handed one to Lucy and Morgan. Lucy was liking Piper more and more. No adult had ever treated Lucy like an equal. Lucy sat back on the sofa and sipped her wine, and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the taste. She’d drunk her share of wine coolers, but wasn’t prepared for the strong taste of the real thing.

  “So, Lucy and Morgan, Marcus tells me you are in need of my expertise,” said Piper. “How exactly can I help the two of you?”

  Lucy pointed at Morgan. “He needs a fake ID. We’re taking a trip to Vegas.”

  “I see,” Piper said, peering at both of them over the top of her wine. “And you, Lucy, already have identification stating that you are of legal gambling age?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had a fake ID for years,” said Lucy, proudly.

  “May I see this identification, please?” Piper asked.

  Lucy dug into her purse and after a moment produced her fake ID. She handed it to Piper who studied it carefully. Then, without warning, Piper tore the ID card in half.

  “What the hell?” Lucy sat forward, almost spilling her wine on the very white sofa.

  “Garbage,” Piper said. She held up the pieces. “This, along with your pretty smile, may get you past the idiot bouncers at local clubs, but would never pass in Las Vegas. The identification I will provide to both of you will not be a fake ID, as you call it, but an official second identity. It will be backed up by birth records and social security information. If you wanted to, you could even apply for a passport with the identification I provide. That’s how thorough it is.”

  “That sounds impressive,” Morgan said. “But it also sounds super-expensive.”

  Piper smiled, took a sip of her wine and explained, “Marcus will be taking care of my fee.”

  “Even a new ID for me?” Lucy said. “That’s so awesome. Isn’t that awesome, Morgan?”

  “Yeah, really awesome,” Morgan agreed, but he sounded anything but delighted. Lucy frowned at him, what was his problem? The plan was working out perfectly, and a new, professional fake ID was just icing on the cake.

  Piper led them to a room that had been converted into a studio workshop. The room was a forger’s dream, camera equipment, copy machines and something that finally impressed Morgan, a very fancy-looking computer.

  “Whoa,” said Morgan, leaning over to get a better look at it. “Where did you buy this, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s a custom build,” Piper answered, as she booted the computer up. “There are government agencies that don’t have this kind of computing power.”

  “Cool,” Morgan was almost drooling.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Nerdlinger,” Lucy said. “Don’t crowd Piper, she’s a professional.”

  Morgan blushed and shuffled backwards, bumping into a table.

  Piper laughed. “It’s alright. I like showing off my baby.” She patted the machine gently. “This will take me some time, why don’t you grab the wine and cheese, and bring them in here? Also, I have the latest Sega system set up over there. It should be enough to keep you busy.”

  Morgan almost tripped over himself to check out the Sega video game system.

  “No way,” Morgan exclaimed. “This is the Sega Genesis. This isn’t even out yet, how did you get this?”

  “It’s all about knowing the right people. Go ahead, try it out, I have versions of all the games currently in development.”

  Morgan plopped down and was instantly lost in video game heaven. Lucy continued to sip her wine, getting used to the taste, and watched Piper typing blindingly fast on the computer keyboard. There was something about Piper that seemed, not off, but different. Her size
alone would make her stand out in a crowd, but there was more to it than that. It was as if there was another Piper hiding underneath.

  Lucy was feeling relaxed. It had to be the wine, and her mind began to wander, not focusing on anything in particular. She was aware of Morgan, bouncing on the couch as he played his game, and heard the clicking and beeping coming from Piper’s computer. Then something strange began to occur, streaks of color started to flash around the room. Lucy rubbed her eyes, but the streaks just increased in speed and intensity.

  Lucy’s head was buzzing. She wanted to stand up and her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Lucy was about to ask Morgan for help when a noise caught her attention.

  A growl.

  There was an animal in here and it sounded pissed.

  Lucy looked at Morgan, expecting to see him reacting to the growl, but Morgan was still locked into the video game. It was like he couldn’t hear it. Lucy then looked over at Piper and would have shouted in fear if she could. Piper was still Piper, but there was also a larger, monster version of Piper sort of floating around and on top of the Piper sitting at the computer. The monster version of Piper was translucent. Lucy could see through it to the room beyond. The thing looked like a cross between the pretty, black woman and some sort of cat—no, more like a tiger or a leopard. A childhood memory of watching Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, creature-feature movies, with her dad popped into Lucy’s head. The monster-Piper reminded her of the Werewolf—half-human, half-animal.

  The normal Piper was concentrating on the computer screen, but the monster Piper turned its gaze on Lucy. It had a mouth filled with big pointy teeth and it was the source of the growling. It knew Lucy could see it and wasn’t happy. Lucy didn’t know what to do. She glanced again at Morgan, but he was oblivious. Lucy started to inch forward, slowly trying to slip off the chair in Morgan’s direction. She didn’t think he could do anything, but at least she wouldn’t be sitting by herself.

  The normal Piper stopped typing.