by T. G. Ayer
I lifted myself up and rested on one elbow, squinting up at him. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, since you saved my ass and all, but what the hell are you doing here?”
“Geez, you really know how to roll out the welcome mat, Mel,” Drake muttered as he got to his feet and headed into the kitchen. Thankfully the loft’s kitchen seemed to still function, and Drake ran the faucet and filled a glass with water.
He returned and handed me the glass, giving me a strange look.
“Thanks.” I took the glass and sipped slowly. “And thanks for the save.”
“Just glad I got back in time. Looked like you needed the help.” When I only glared at him in response, he said, “So care to fill me in on why two assholes were trying to remove you from the plane of the living?”
“Maybe ‘cos they’re assholes?” I said, then sighed. “It’s case–related. They don’t like me being all up in their business. Or at least I hope that’s who they were, because if not, there’s someone else out there who wants me dead.”
Drake grunted. “And would you care to tell me why you were trying to jump when you’ve been forbidden?”
“I had no choice. In case you didn’t realize that from what you saw when you appeared.”
I hesitated, then frowned. Drake hadn’t been around for weeks now. He’d have no idea how I’d been feeling unless someone had been feeding him that info. Had Natasha been in contact with him after all?
“Who told you that?”
Drake grinned. “Steph. I came back, and Steph just about burst into tears. She sent me here. Said you needed backup and to make sure you don’t jump.”
I rolled my eyes and lay back down. “Your timing is perfect actually. I was trying to figure out how to get a hold of you. You didn’t exactly leave me a direct line.” I knew the words came out a little accusatory, but I was so tired I didn’t really care. I was feeling too sorry for myself.
“I’m here now,” Drake said softly, taking a seat beside me again.
I cracked open an eye and saw his face, all scrunched up with worry. I sighed. “Sorry, Drake. I’m a little grumpy right now.”
He shrugged and smiled. “I get worse grumpy than that.”
I snorted. “True,” I said giving a soft laugh. I sobered then and looked up at Drake. “So how did it go with your family?”
He shrugged.
“Sorry dude, there’s no playing the I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it card here.” I met his eyes and refused to look away.
Drake shook his head. “It’s a long and complicated story, Mel. You’ve got too much going on right now. You need to figure out what to do next—apart from recovering from being beaten to a pulp.”
I wanted to argue with him, to insist on hearing what had happened, but instead, I backed off. I wondered if it was because Drake seemed to need time before he spilled or because I was just being selfish and focusing on what was currently going on in my own messed up life.
Refusing to think about it, I pushed myself into a sitting position and waited until the room stopped moving around me. I could feel the pull of fatigue in every muscle in my body, but I couldn’t just lie there waiting for my problems to solve themselves.
I looked beyond Drake’s shoulder to the assailants, who were now lying on the floor near the door.
Drake must have attended to the corpses while I had been unconscious.
Staring at the two dead bodies, I knew immediately what it was that I needed to do. There was only one person who could talk to them for me. I had to give Nerina call.
I cleared my throat and asked Drake, “Where’s my phone?”
Drake got to his feet and walked over to my jacket which was lying on the floor a few feet away from me. He rummaged inside and retrieved my phone, returning to me his face sober.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.
I looked up at him, and said, “We need to get Nerina to come in as soon as possible. She is the only person I know who can speak to those two guys, and maybe help us to find out who hired them.”
Drake nodded, and sat down beside me while I made the call. Nerina answered and agreed to come within an hour or two. That gave me time for some rest, which I seemed to be needing more and more of lately.
Drake did a food run and returned with greasy burgers from a local diner. I didn’t complain, just ate the food and concentrated on getting some sleep.
I was deep within a dreamless sleep when I found someone shaking my shoulder, a soft voice telling me to wake up. I opened my eyes, still feeling fatigue calling on my every muscle. Nerina was standing before me, her face filled with concern.
“I can see that you have a situation in question,” she said looking over her shoulder at the two dead men. I nodded, unable to hide my smile. For someone who dealt in death, Nerina was a particularly pleasant person to be around. “We need some information from those two.” I jerked a chin toward the corpses.
Nerina got to her feet, and moved over to one of the dead men. I’d seen her perform the death talk before and had found it creepy. And yet I still watched her as she settled beside the body and lifted the man’s chin to open his mouth. She leaned over and blew a stream of pale smoke into his mouth, exhaling until her lungs must have been empty.
After a moment of dead silence, Nerina began to inhale again, this time drawing the smoke back out of the dead man’s mouth. The pale mist rose but was tinged now with an odd darkness. One that made me stiffened then rise to go to Nerina’s side. This wasn’t normal, and I was afraid that she could possibly be in danger.
Drake put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t. She’ll be fine.”
I glanced up at him. “I’ve never seen it look like that before.”
He stared at me for a moment, then looked back at Nerina as she inhaled the last of the black and white smoke. “I think I know why but I’m pretty sure she can handle it.”
I shifted my gaze back to him for a moment. “Which is?”
He didn’t say anything, just jerked his chin at Nerina as she began to speak.
“What…what’s going on?” Nerina said, her voice rough and totally unlike her own soft tones.
It gave me the shivers just listening to her. But I had to focus. I went to Nerina’s side and knelt beside her. “Who hired you?”
“What?”
“Who hired you to kill Mel Morgan?” I asked, a little unsure how to proceed with the questioning.
Nerina shook her head. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”
I tried a different line of questioning. “I’m sorry. You were in this apartment in New Orleans, and you were killed in an attack.”
“Killed?” Nerina’s features crumpled. “Nah, you makin’ a mistake. I been dead a while now. More’n a week already.”
“How?” I asked, now more than suspicious.
“Bar fight over on the west side. A little too much homemade honey, if ya catch my drift.” Nerina’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Pity. We was pals yaknow. Me and Mikey.”
As much as I wanted what he was saying to be a mistake or a lie, I knew there was some semblance of truth to his words. Especially knowing that in death, the tendency to lie was almost non-existent.
That and the fact that the other dead guy sported a dark skull tattoo on his neck with the name Mikey written in an elegant swirling font.
“Is there anything else that you remember? Anything about Mel Morgan?” I asked one last time, more than ready to give up seeing as it was clear this guy didn’t know anything.
“Morgan mustn’t know about the girls.”
I froze and stared at Nerina. “What did you say?”
Nerina looked around, her brow furrowed in confusion. “He-he said…he said Morgan wasn’t to know about the girls.”
“What girls?” I asked, my voice urgent now.
“All the girls! All the pretty, pretty girls!”
The man began to laugh, the sound high-pitched and almost hysterical. Nerina’s neck muscles were ti
ght and almost twisted as she strained against the control the dead man was taking over her.
I boosted myself to my feet and touched Nerina’s shoulder. I was done, and as I turned to Drake, I noticed his expression dark but unsurprised.
“Attack of the living dead, huh?”
“Something like that,” said Drake.
“Something a lot like that,” said Nerina from behind me.
I spun around and stared at her. “That was quick.”
She shrugged. “There wasn’t any life-force to settle. They’d both been dead for a week, maybe ten days before being reanimated and instructed to come here.”
“So the sangoma sent them?” I asked, aghast.
“Maybe,” she replied. “But we can’t be certain so no jumping to conclusions yet. All I know for certain is these two were dead, and they were then brought to life and sent here to kill you.”
I stared at the two bodies. “So, this killer just picks two bodies from the morgue and sends them my way?”
Drake shook his head. “Don’t think it’s as simple as that.”
“Why?” I asked, looking up at him. “What are you thinking?”
“They’re both army. Maybe not special forces, but definitely military.”
“And they both know how to fight,” I said quietly. “So he was looking for people with the skills to kill me.”
“Not to mention the girls.”
My mouth closed and I swallowed hard. My skin still crawled from the memory of Nerina’s voice as it seemed to have been seared into my brain.
“All the girls! All the pretty, pretty girls!”
Chapter 13
“I think I should go to the Graylands and talk to him.”
There was a short pregnant silence as both Drake and Nerina stared at me, eyes round, shock in hers and fury in his.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Well, this was the Drake I knew and loved.
I sighed. “I just think it might be the easiest way to find out more without damaging Nerina or the…witness.” I ended the sentence on a lame note and Drake’s expression pretty much assured me that he agreed.
“So you think trading in Nerina’s safety for yours is an acceptable option?” Drake’s tone was cutting as he glanced at Nerina and then at me. I wasn’t sure if he was looking at her for support or because he didn’t think she was worth my sacrifice.
Before I could respond, Nerina said, “I have a better suggestion.” She hesitated, then looked back at the dead men. Then she took a breath and met my eyes. “We could use their blood…in a spell. It may help to track down the necromancer who sent them here. I’m not sure though. I’m not too knowledgeable about magical spells.”
I nodded, giving the two dead bodies a similar look of distaste as Nerina had.
I gave a visible shudder and said, “Sounds like the best plan we have right now.”
My words spurred Nerina into action, and she approached the two corpses and proceeded to draw blood into two vials, labeling each one carefully. She seemed to keep a forensics kit on her person in much the same way as I did.
I glanced over at Drake who didn’t say anything in opposition to said plan. He was staring at Nerina though, the expression filled with wariness and something akin to dislike.
Now, what was that all about?
Nerina sighed. “Let me just say that I don’t think that’s the best idea ever.” She stowed the vials into a small box and deposited it onto the kitchen counter.
“Wasn’t it your idea?” snapped Drake.
Nerina barely awarded him a glance in response. “As much as I’m the one who suggested the option, I’m not about to claim there are no reasons against such a plan. It was a suggestion and given we don’t seem to have a whole heap of them right now…”
Two things occurred to me at that moment. Nerina was referring to herself as a part of the ‘we’ who were in this mess.
And Nerina seemed to reciprocate Drake’s feeling of dislike. Which led me to wonder if there was a history between the two.
Whatever it was, I planned to find out.
Chapter 14
Sleep was supposed to be a time of peace, relaxation, and regeneration. I didn’t know why I thought such a thing would apply to me.
Despite the pain, despite the knowledge that both Drake and Nerina were around in case I needed them, I was still unable to sleep in peace. Tossing and turning eventually turned into snatches of shut-eye, which eventually turned into a pathetic excuse for slumber.
I struggled to sit up. Sleep was for the weak. I rolled onto my knees and gasped as the floor tilted. I held on for dear life until the floor ceased its rolling. Cracking open one eyelid, I scanned the loft, relieved the floor was back to being where floors usually stayed. Down and still.
I shifted to my feet, slowly, aware that I still felt a little woozy.
I scanned the loft and found the place empty, no sign of either of my supposed bodyguards. They definitely had something going on with them, and I so planned to find out. Not just yet though. For now, I needed to go…somewhere?
I frowned. I couldn’t recall now why I’d gotten up. Maybe I was suffering from RLS; Restless Leg Syndrome. I stared down at my legs, still encased in my denim jeans. I shook out one leg, and then the other. Neither seemed restless at all, so I nixed that diagnosis and took a step toward the kitchen.
Coffee? Maybe a good dose of caffeine would help clear my head. It made no sense though, because a part of my brain told me that the loft had no coffee machine. It didn’t even have coffee mugs. Or cream.
Still, I soldiered on, taking another step. The kitchen counter still felt yards off, as if I was treading water in the middle of nowhere.
I took another step and smiled. I was making progress. Yay.
I took another step and blinked.
I’d been raised human, and had heard the tales of human abductions by the fae, of lands hidden in plain sight, places humans pass every day and never saw because the magical beings would lay a spell on the place. I frowned. Wasn’t that the same thing as Natasha’s ward around her property. Or the one she’d erected around my house?
I swallowed. What the hell was wrong with me? My thoughts felt all jumbly.
I shook my head and stared at the loft in front of me. I was no longer in the loft, instead stepping further into a large room. The walls were covered in printed wallpaper that seemed to undulate as I watched the weaving snakelike patterns.
Hesitating I turned back to look over my shoulder, unsure of what I would see, although I’d already begun to suspect something weird was going on.
Behind me, I saw the loft a mere foot or so away, and yet in front of me stood a room so different it was like comparing night and day. I’d gone from red-brick walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, and exposed pipes and ducting to carpeted, wall-papered room, windows covered in thick drapes and the floor filled with heavy mahogany furniture.
The room would have seemed fine if it hadn’t been for the wallpaper. Which had now begun to undulate again, the green vines almost rising from the surface. I squinted and stepped closer, curious now. I’d begun to feel like Alice in a strange wonderland.
Even more so when the green vines pulled away from the wall and sprang at me with forked tongues. The vines were alive, emerald-colored vipers reaching for me, eager to sink their fangs into me and fill my flesh with poison. I backpedaled, but when I turned to flee back into the loft, I found my way back closed. I was trapped in the strange room.
The walls were now alive, and I remained in the middle of the room, trying to avoid the deadly serpents. But my feet began to slip and slide on the carpet, and when I looked down, I found I’d been trampling red, raw, and bloody pieces of flesh. A scream escaped my lips, and I staggered away finding I had nowhere to run. As I turned in place, desperate for a way to escape, I caught sight of a strange disfigurement of the wall near me. The wallpaper, undulating snakes and all, rose and fell, like the topography
of the earth, and as I squinted, I recognized the lines and shapes as that of a man.
The strange wallpaper man emerged from the wall and came to stand before me, the vipers and pieces of wallpaper sliding down his face to reveal bloody raw skin.
His eyes were large and round and staring, his mouth wide in a toothy grin, his teeth reddened with what looked like blood.
And then he lifted his hand, opened his palm and said, “Eat.”
In his hand, he held what looked like a breast.
I woke screaming.
The loft was empty, and I scrambled to my feet, frustrated that neither Drake nor Nerina were there so that I could tell them about my horrifically awful dream. I was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating but I forced myself to calm down. Only a dream. Only a dream.
I spoke the words over again until finally, my heart rate had gotten back to something close to not-going-to-burst-any-time-soon.
I sighed and headed toward the kitchen, hesitating when I reached the point in the room where in the dream I’d transitioned into the weird room. I walked over, and exhaled in relief as I checked over my shoulder to confirm the loft was still the loft. Everything was as it should be.
I headed for the kitchen, but I never made it.
Three steps more and I was back in the wallpapered room, only this time the walls were bleeding, and the room was filled with beds. There were girls on the beds, each one in a different state of undress and a varying degree of death.
Three girls were crying, their bloody tears dripping slowly down their cheeks. Two more were silent as they stared up at the ceiling, unconscious or catatonic I didn’t know. Further along, two more beds contained what appeared to be unconscious women but from the states of their bodies—or rather what was left of their bodies—I didn’t believe they were alive anymore.
My heart rate shot up again, and I backed away, bumping into something hard. I spun around, screaming in shock, afraid of finding myself standing in front of the awful man. But what I’d bumped was infinitely worse. The body of a girl, propped up on a meat hook.
