“I don’t see anyone,” he said, “but there’s something in front of the door.”
I eased the door towards me a few inches. After nothing happened, such as a monster barreling through it or a man on the other side holding a gun on me, I felt safe enough to open it the rest of the way. Jude had been right. Two cloth bags closed tightly with ribbon were sitting on the Welcome mat. Upon closer inspection, I saw several tiny, green marbles spread all around the bags and across my porch. No doubt, the source of the pelting noise. I guess it was the kidnapper’s way of knocking. I took the bags into the house and closed the door. I crossed my fingers in hopes that whatever clue was inside would lead me to my sister.
I reached for the sack closest to me. I yanked at the red ribbon and it fell open.
“What is it?” Jude asked, leaning in close to inspect it.
“It’s a key.”
I picked up the large skeleton key. It was around six inches long and had intertwining eternity symbols at the top. The key was black, but worn. It looked old. Underneath the key, there was a note. I snatched it up and read it.
Follow this map at eleven o’clock tonight. It will take you to a hidden door. Once there, use this key to gain entry. Under no circumstances are you to be seen by anyone. Further instructions will be waiting for you before you enter. If you fail to follow any of these instructions, SHE DIES.
My hand shook as I read the note. There was a hand-drawn map scribbled on the bottom of it. It was hard to make out the different streets and directions he wanted me to take. It was as if a young child had drawn it.
I set the note down and put the key on top of it. I grabbed the other sack. That one had a blue ribbon cinching it closed. It was a bit smaller than the first one. I pulled the ribbon, letting the ends fall open. Inside was a plain white cloth; it folded over itself a few times, making a square. I picked it up and unraveled it. After peeling away the last layer, a gold locket was revealed. The locket looked as old as the key, but in better condition. I opened the smooth, gold oval face, which was about the size of a silver dollar, and a small note popped out, falling onto my lap. I snatched it up and looked inside the locket. It was empty.
Take the necklace with you.
Chapter Five
I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, I beat my pillows with my fist. Nothing seemed to work. I was worried sick about my sister. My arms twitched, and my legs screamed to move. I had an all-consuming urge to jump from my bed and take off in search of Torra. But Jude, with his rational thinking and his sane reasoning, had kept me rooted to the mattress. How that ghost could ever think he was heading down a path of darkness astounded me. He was the kindest person, ghost or not, that I had ever met. His fears, in my opinion, were unfounded. Just as soon as I found Torra, and then mercilessly killed the bastard who took her, I would prove to Jude how ludicrous the possibility of him being evil truly was.
Three hours later, I woke with damp eyes. My tears apparently had a mind of their own during my fitful rest, taking advantage of my lax guard. I’d been holding every one of those tears back, believing that if I didn’t let any of them fall, I wouldn’t have to feel the full spectrum of my suppressed feelings over what happened to Torra. Emotions were a bunch of sneaky little pests, popping up whenever they pleased. I wiped the tears from my face and sat up. I frowned as I looked into Jude’s eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
It was déjà vu. Jude looked sad and tired, almost defeated, just like the first time I found him three years prior.
“How long have you been sitting there?” I pushed the covers down and knelt beside him at the foot of the bed.
“Not long. It’s almost time to go.”
I looked over at the clock on the side table. It was nine thirty. I’d planned on leaving the house at around ten.
“I always have time for you, butthead.”
He lifted his head, those curls I loved so much tumbling onto his face. “You have to promise me that if I do change into a poltergeist, you’ll send me far away from you.”
I hopped out of bed, surprised by how refreshed I was feeling after so little sleep, and opened my closet. “You’re being silly. That’s not going to happen.”
Jude started to pace back and forth behind me. “I’m serious, Kris. I need your guarantee.”
I was starting to get annoyed. But if a single promise was what Jude needed to feel better, one that I would never have to follow up on, then so be it. “Sure, Jude. If you go all evil-ghost on me, I will do what I have to. That’s the only guarantee you’ll get from me.” Even though I knew the possibility of Jude going dark was nonsense, I still couldn’t promise that I would kill him for good. I loved him too much.
Jude stopped pacing and looked at me. “I guess that’s all I can expect from you.”
“You’re a smart one. Now, are you coming with me?” I asked, rifling through all my shirts in search of something black. I was going on the mission in stealth mode.
“I was planning on it.”
His mocha eyes searched mine. They looked so lost. I wished there was more I could do to make him feel better about his new and odd ability to move things. I figured dragging him along with me that night would at least keep his mind occupied on other things, and selfishly, I wanted—no, scratch that—needed his company.
“Good. I really want you to come.”
I removed a black tank top from a hanger and tossed it on the bed. I had plenty of shirts in black, but not many options when it came to my pants. I preferred to wear jeans, so I had about fifty pairs of them.
I looked down at the floor of my closet. I saw three pairs of flip-flops and two pairs of sneakers. I smiled when I saw my purple dragon slippers. I had them since I was a teenager; they were an anchor to my youth. The two dragons stared at me cross-eyed, with their tongues hanging off to the side. I reached over and slipped them on my feet, wiggling my toes against the cottony comfort.
“You’re going to wear those?” Jude asked, sneering at Char and Flame.
Yes, I named my twin dragons.
“I’m only wearing them while I figure out what I’m going to wear tonight. They comfort me.”
“You’re weird.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I pulled off the white t-shirt I’d slept in and tossed it to the floor.
“You’re cute, but I have no urge to see the woman I consider my sister naked. I’ll be in the other room.” Jude chuckled and disappeared.
I yanked the black tank top over my head and watched him disappear. Before I’d gotten the shirt all the way on, Jude popped back through the wall, right next to my head. I jumped.
“Come here real quick,” he said with a buoyant expression. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he popped back out of sight.
Yup, he was definitely back to his normal self. Ignoring him, I opened my bottom drawer and began rifling through my jeans. Not to be ignored, Jude’s head pushed through the wall again. Startled, I stepped back, knocking my heel against the metal bed frame.
“Fu…dge. That hurt. Stop doing that!”
“I found something. Get in here,” he ordered, then vanished.
“Fine, you win!”
Throwing up my hands, I turned towards the door. I was wearing only my black tank top, boy shorts undies, and my twin dragons. If my state of undress bothered the ghost, he would just have to deal. Reaching over, my fingers grabbed a hair-band from the dresser as I passed it. Pushing all my hair back off my face, I secured the thick, dark locks into a high pony-tail at the top of my head. It swayed back and forth as I walked the short distance between the two rooms.
When I turned and entered through the doorway, a blanket of sadness settled over me. Longing burned inside my gut as I took in the sweet smell of Japanese cherry blossom permeating throughout the room. Torra wore that body spray scent all the time. My face tightened from the unexpected emotions it evoked, and after swallowing back tears, I found myself s
tanding, stilled, in the middle of her bedroom. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stepped foot in there. My sister was adamant about her privacy being respected and rarely invited anyone into her sanctuary.
“Come take a look at this,” Jude said, interrupting my thoughts.
I looked over to see him floating in front of the closet with his finger pointing inside it. I rushed over and peeked in.
“I don’t get it.” I looked around. All I could see were clothes hanging off the wooden closet rod and several pairs of shoes that were lined up, nice and neat, pushed together on the floor. “What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?”
Jude pointed to the side of the closet. “Push against the wall.”
I did as he asked. “What the…?” The wall made a clicking sound, and then cracked open.
“I found it when I pushed through the wall. It’s odd that I’ve never seen it before. I’ve been all over this house.”
I jerked on the fake wall. It opened easily. I looked inside the hidden alcove, waiting for something to pop out at me. When nothing did, I stepped inside the closet to get a better look. Inside the outer closet, there were summer sandals, ballerina flats, and high-heeled shoes that ranged in color from white, purple, and pink, all the way to red; her clothes, she arranged the same way. In her hidden space, however, she had a couple pairs of combat boots, well-used sneakers, and several leather cat suits, which were all in black.
What the hell was that about? First I found out that she had been training at the Center, and training for what, I had no clue. Then I found a smorgasbord of cat burglar attire hidden in her closet. I was flummoxed. I was beginning to think that I didn’t know Torra at all.
“Well, don’t just stand there staring, grab something. That long-sleeved, tight number hanging right in front of you will work a shit-ton better than what you’re wearing now. Come on, you have to leave soon. There’s no time to be mucking about.”
“You’re taking this all in stride,” I said with an irritated huff. “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why she has all this stuff?” I pointed to the cat suits.
Jude gave me an exasperated look. “I’ve always known she was hiding something. Until now, I just didn’t know what. Now I do. Torra is either a ninja assassin, or she robs museums in her spare time. Both things are pretty damn cool in my book. Hey, you kill evil vampires behind her back. I’d say you two are even.”
He had a point. The whole time, I’d been keeping my own secrets from Torra. I was acting like the worst kind of hypocrite. I’d let it rest, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to drill her for information the next time I saw her…which I prayed would be soon.
I reached inside the cubby and grabbed the shirt that Jude wanted me to wear. It was made out of a soft and thin elastic material. He was right. That top would work a lot better than the one I had on. I stripped the tank from my body. Jude blanched and twisted around at the sight of my bared stomach and bra. I put on the replacement shirt.
I spied a stack of dark jeans, so I grabbed a pair. Why not? We were the same size, and I was done looking for something in my own closet. A glint caught my eyes as I yanked the jeans over my hips. I reached over to a shelf and wrapped my hand around the handle of a gun.
“More surprises,” I said, showing it to Jude.
He leaned forward, and after placing his hand over my cheek, he gave me a warm smile. “You have a lot to process. Believe me, you’re not the only one wondering why Torra’s been lying to us, but I’m sure she has a really good explanation for everything. Let’s go find her, shall we?”
“Yeah, okay.” I shoved the gun inside my waistband.
Chapter Six
It was turning out harder than I thought it would be. Squeezing the ends of the scissors together, I snipped off the last of my hair. It landed in the bathroom sink, along with the rest of it. I looked into the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. But wasn’t that the point? I ran my hand across my upper lip and chin, my fingertips brushing against smooth and warm skin. It was freshly shaven. Yanking open the vanity drawer, I eyeballed the electric shaver inside. After about a million curses, I finally said, “Fuck it.” I reached in, grabbed it, and plugged it in. When finished, all that was left of my hair was a quarter-inch fade.
“I look like fucking GI Joe.” I scowled at my appearance.
“Have you enlisted in the armed forces, dear brother? It would be one of the more noble things you’ve done.”
Turning around, I faced my sister. She was standing inside the doorway with her arms crossed, staring at herself in the mirror—a reflection that mimicked mine. Kissa was older than me by three minutes. She was my fraternal twin, but we appeared almost identical. We shared the same triangular-shaped face, high cheek bones, and not surprisingly, the same hair and eye color. I leaned in, grabbed her by her small, doll-like shoulders, and gave her a quick peck on the forehead.
“What do you want, Kissa? I have no time for your bullshit. Don’t you have employees to harass or cute little puppies to drown?”
Kissa laughed. “Please. You know that torturing you is one of my favorite pastimes, golden boy.”
The sound of that nickname rolling off her tongue made my blood boil, but I kept my thoughts to myself. Complaining to her about it seemed to make it worse. No, it always made it worse. On our twenty-first birthday, which brought us into our full power potential, she had come up with that name. Considering that our father was an extremely powerful Creator, it was expected that at least one, or maybe even both, of us would inherit the gift. As it happened, and to my eternal torment, I was the only one who fulfilled the expectations of our parents, and of course, the Council. To say that Kissa was a bit put off by the subsequent results of our transcending would be a colossal understatement.
“Why did you go and shave off all your pretty hair? Won’t the ladies grieve over the loss? No matter,” she said with a glint of mischief shining in her eyes, “it’s not your hair that sends them flocking to you, anyway. It’s your lucrative position at the Center and your status as a Creator.”
“Be careful, sister. Your bitterness is showing.” I chuckled. Besides the nickname, her teasing really didn’t bother me that much. When it came to the tenacious and spunky Kissandra Davis, if you were a family member, or if she had somehow developed a fondness for you, her bark was only a little bit fiercer than her bite.
Kissa lifted her arms and smacked the sides of both my cheeks with her palms. In a rough circular motion, she rubbed her hands all across my face, paying special attention to the areas where I'd just shaven. The skin was still sensitive, and the friction created a burning sensation.
"I'm not sure if I approve of this new look of yours. It's more middle-class plumber or mechanic, the complete opposite of who you are—the poster child for every elitist, pretty boy sophisticate who dines from a silver spoon. What's gotten into you? Are you going to tat up your body next?" My sister dropped her arms and walked across the room, stopping at the bed. After easing down to take a seat at the end of it, she crossed her legs. "You do know that this new makeover of yours will cause you to lose your standing as the perfect son in our parents’ eyes." Kissa threw her head back, a mop of dirty blond curls bouncing along with the slight shake of her body as she laughed. "Maybe this transformation of yours isn’t all that bad. In fact, it could end up being deliciously beneficial to me."
Ignoring her, I walked over to my closet and dragged out a few department store bags, the haul that my cousin, Archer, had come back with after I had sent him to the mall in search of some everyday street clothes for me to wear. I shoved my hand inside the bag and drew out a dark grey hoodie. After a quick inspection, I tossed it over my shoulder to land on the bed. I rifled through the bag some more, and I ended up with a pair of dark denim jeans, a black t-shirt, and a pair of grey and black tennis shoes.
I disappeared inside the spacious closet to throw on my new digs. The jeans and t-shirt were surprisingly comfortable. I felt li
ke an unhindered man, freed from the trappings of high society and all the designer outfits that came with it. I had to admit, the clothes felt pretty fucking good on me. I would definitely start dressing like that more often.
“Are there any new leads on Torra’s kidnapping?” Kissa asked. The smart-ass look she perpetually wore fell from her stricken face as she looked down. A deep crease marred her forehead. “I have a strong hunch that it was an inside job.”
I strode from the closet and sat next to her at the foot of the bed. It was a California King that allotted me a rather large space to sit on, but I sat right next to her. It had always been like that with us. We felt better in each other’s company. More relaxed, safer in a way. It was a twin thing.
“So far, we only have the surveillance tape to go by. I have Conrad and Duska looking through back-up files for anything we might have missed.”
Kissa’s head swung around, and she pinned me with a death glare. “You have Duska working on this? Have you gone mad?”
“She is perfectly capable and quite skilled at spotting abnormalities.” I reached down to tie my shoes. “Why do you hate her so much, anyway?”
I found myself studying my sister’s reaction more closely. I had wondered why she and Duska acted like mortal enemies whenever they were in the same room together. Her face went blank, and all I got in return for my inquiry was a half-hearted shrug.
“We have to find her, Rush. This incident makes you look severely incompetent. And as appealing as all that may sound, it also paints a bad picture of the Davis family. We can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.”
“Are you certain that’s the only reason you’re so concerned over this?”
Kissa stood up while reaching for my hoodie that lay in a pile behind her. After a playful toss, it landed over my head, blinding me.
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