Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection) (77 page)

Rook smiled. “Or more like I would refuse to go along with it.” Now they were onto something. “We just need to figure out what Savage is up to—”

The room shook as something slammed against the secret panel. Muffled shouts came from the tattoo parlor. “Beauty…?”

She avoided his gaze. “I figured. I mean I knew you wouldn’t just obey Savage’s orders, so I did some calling around.”

Rook glared. “And?”

Beauty rushed on. “It looks like the Cabal has been negotiating with the facility that we pulled Angela from.”

Not even Rook had seen that coming, but he should have. Savage really was a bastard.

“So my uncle’s plan is to return her to Dr. Slavakian, and in exchange, they will share their research with the Cabal?”

Beauty shrugged, eyes still averted. “They’re saying it is the most time- and
cost-
effective way to learn about what is happening to Angela.”

Everyone turned and looked at the Virgin as she backed away from the group.

* * *

“No,” Angela moaned as she backed into a wall. She couldn’t get any farther away from the door. “I’m not going back.”

She could remember the restraints. The lifeless, recirculated air. The stirrups. Perhaps she should have let Rook drop her on the pavement.

Angela spoke directly to Rook. “Go ahead. Kill me. I’d rather die.”

He met her stare, but she couldn’t read him. Did he, too, wish he’d dumped her out of that speeding car?

A loud banging drew his eyes away from hers. Was her plea enough to convince him that she was serious?

Rook turned to Fanny. “Who’s at the door?”

The girl closed her eyes and cocked her head. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Even Angela, so new to all of this, knew that Fanny was here, but no longer here.

Finally, the girl opened her eyes. “Yarden is definitely with them, and I think Sho-Sho, but she’s trying to cloak her presence.”

Tomahawk hit his fist against the panel. “Then it’s the Cabal. They couldn’t even wait for us to turn ourselves in.”

Rook turned away from the door, pacing again. Beauty caught his arm. “I know that you’re upset, Rook. But this is big.” Beauty looked at Angela with sympathy in her eyes. “I am so sorry, darlin’, but it’s true.”

A lot of good Beauty’s sympathy did Angela.

Beauty turned back to Rook. “This is beyond huge. This eclipses—”

“Please,” Angela interrupted. She could feel Rook being swayed by his friend. “You told me to trust you.”

She pleaded with her eyes. He had to know how bad it was back in that warehouse. The question was, did he care?

His eyes squinted as if he were trying to see into her soul. Angela let him.

Rook pointed toward the bathroom. “Everyone, come with me.”

The group looked around, clearly questioning what Rook was getting at. For Angela, as long as he wasn’t leading her to the secret panel, she was following. The rest trailed behind, holding their noses. The smell was putrefaction squared. The toilet overflowed a brown slurry.

“Man, who used it?” Rook asked.

Beauty removed the silk handkerchief from her mouth. “I don’t think that’s recent.”

Angela watched as Rook gulped, then dropped to his knees. Grimacing, he put his hand into the bowl and fished around for something.

He looked right at her. “You’d better be worth this…”

* * *

Beauty stepped closer to the toilet, even though she was certain that even if they survived this at all, the smell would never come out of her herringbone bustier.

“Rook, think this through. The Cabal isn’t perfect, but they’ve got a pretty good track record—”

He continued to dig around in the muck. “Tell that to the villagers in Hurra, Colombia.”

Beauty frowned, not liking where the conversation was going… not at all. “That was an accident.”

“The Cabal bartered away the Whaler’s Chalice, even though they knew Yarvar wanted it to open up the continental rift.”

“Well,” Beauty said, picking at the edge of her broken nail. “Nobody’s got a perfect batting record.”

Rook was now up to his armpit in sludge. “And Nepal? The Valdez? Turkey?”

“I know, I know, but—”

A loud
clunk
sounded as the toilet moved away from the wall. According to the floor plans, that exit was not supposed to exist. Rook stood up, walked over to the sink, and cleaned off his arm.

“Look, Beauty, I am not going to pull anyone’s hair out by the roots.” He motioned over to Angela. “But I am not letting them get
her
.”

The woman looked immensely relieved, but Beauty felt that reaction was a bit premature. There were worse things than being stuck in a creepy OB-GYN ward. Much worse.

“It scares me to agree,” Tomahawk said, beside her. “But Rook’s right.” He indicated the sleeping Chad, back in the main room. “Should we throw Savage a bone? Maybe get him off our backs a little?”

Rook shook his head. “No. We might need him again.”

Tomahawk took off to grab Chad as Rook guided Angela down the secret escape route. “Last one out, close the hatch.”

And with that, he was gone. Quickly, Tomahawk gathered Chad, and he too disappeared into the dark tunnel. That left Beauty and Fanny. The younger girl took her hand.

“We’ll still love you, no matter what you decide.” Fanny got up on her tippy-toes and kissed Beauty on the cheek. “Just go with your heart.”

She then skipped off and down the tunnel, humming a tune.

Go with her heart? Well, Beauty definitely wasn’t going with her nose. Behind her, the Cabal was very close to breaking through the secret door.

Finally, with a sigh, she put the silk handkerchief to her nose and entered the dark passage that led into the sewers.

There went another pair of Guccis.

* * *

Rook pushed up on the sewer grate, but damn, it was heavy! Or he was weak. At this point, it could be either. The day—make that
days
if you counted the time changes—was taking its toll. He bent his shoulder over and heaved upward, dislodging the metal cap. Quickly, he climbed out of the opening and put a hand out for Angela.

She scrambled up quickly, clutching her hospital robe around her. They definitely were going to need to get her some street clothes. And after that lovely little trip through the sewer, a shower as well. Actually, as Tomahawk exited with Chad, and Fanny and Beauty followed, looking fairly ratty themselves, they all needed showers.

“You really need to clear your ‘plans’ with me from now on,” Beauty grumbled as she pulled off her heels, revealing torn nylons.

“Ugh! I second that,” Tomahawk said as he set Chad down on the street. He turned to Rook. “Now that we dodged the Cabal, and are clueless, without resources, and hounded by every force on earth, how are we proceeding?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Rook said as he dug deep within his coat’s inner pocket. He pulled out a long, snowy white feather.

“I’ve been saving this baby for a night just like this…”

Beauty looked more than skeptical. “A
feather
is going to uncover an international, no—inter-dimensional—plot?”

Rook smiled. “Just watch,” he said.

He put the feather in his palm, and then gently blew on it. The feather floated out, and then a gentle breeze tugged it down the street. It lazily rolled and tumbled along with the wind.

“If anybody says ‘life is like a box of chocolates,’ I will tickle them,” Rook said as Fanny opened her mouth, and then shut it again.

Tomahawk looked ever so serious, though. “Rook, the plan. We really need a little bit more than ‘a wing and a prayer’ speech.”

“Sorry,” Rook shrugged. “You are just going to have to follow, and you shall see.”

With a flourish, Rook waved his group on. “I swear, you are going to like…. Probably. I mean, Fanny is definitely going to love it.”

Beauty scowled at him, but took Fanny’s hand and followed the feather that now danced at the end of the block. Grumbling, Tomahawk got Chad to his feet and headed out as well.

Rook bowed to Angela. “Age before beauty.”

She didn’t smile, though. If anything, her frown deepened. “I need…” She took in a breath. “I just wanted to thank you for—”

“Don’t,” Rook said flatly.

“But, you have saved my life twice now, and—”

“It wasn’t for you, darlin’.” Rook stated. “I’ve got my own reasons.”

Her frown transformed into an angry, hard line. “Which could change at any moment?”

“Exactly,” Rook replied coolly.

Angela’s lips shook as she struggled against tears. As she lost the battle, she turned away from him, hurrying to catch up with the rest of the group. Rook opened his mouth to say something to blunt his harsh words, but simply couldn’t find the right ones to say.

What could he say to make the situation any less dangerous?

There was trust, and then there was
trust
. Rook’s was more of a situational kind of trust. It was best that she knew the truth from the get-go.

He didn’t need a dewy-eyed groupie, even one as beautiful as Angela.

* * *

Tomahawk didn’t know if it was his imagination, or if the Hellgate was actually getting heavier. Chad was on his feet, but he staggered to the left, forcing Tomahawk to correct course, again, he wasn’t sure if that was necessarily a good thing.

“Not that this hasn’t been fun,” Tomahawk said as he righted Chad. “But is there a point to our meandering the streets in the middle of the night?”

“Patience, grasshopper,” was Rook’s only response.

Tomahawk was about to retort when Angela came over and supported Chad’s other shoulder. “Thanks,” he mumbled, caught off guard by the woman. He hadn’t exactly been in her camp during the whole “should we turn her back over to her abusers” argument.

Beauty stopped and rubbed her foot. “You know when I’ll be patient? After a facial and a veggie burger.”

Fanny, though, jumped up and down. Her fingers were entwined, as if in prayer. “Please, Rook, please! Tell us more. I’m dying to know.”

As the group continued down the dark and lonely street, Rook grinned. For some reason, Fanny had their fearless leader wrapped around her little pinkie.

“Well, you see,” Rook started in a storytelling tone. “There was once a beautiful, beautiful angel in the heavens.”

Fanny clapped with glee. “What was her name?”

“Sheli.”

“Oh, that’s so pretty!”

“Yes it is. But then Sheli hooked up with a bad-ass named Lucifer and well, the rest is history.”

Tomahawk’s eyes narrowed, not believing what Rook implied. “So we are looking for one of the ‘Fallen?’ “

“Not exactly,” Rook explained. “More like one of the ‘chucked.’ “

“Ohh, I like ‘chucked!’ “ Fanny exclaimed, and then looked confused. “But what does it mean?”

“Well, you see,” Rook continued in his singsong voice, “Sheli swore she would support Lucifer in his battle, but when the day came, well, she was nowhere to be found. So when the big guy cast out Lucifer’s friends, she got to stay.”

“Wow,” Fanny commented. “She’s sneaky.”

“Ah, but not sneaky enough! The big guy found out about her betrayal and had her banished from heaven. I guess the ground broke her fall, so she’s been on this plane every since.”

Tomahawk readjusted Chad’s arm over his shoulder. The guy really was weighing a ton. Angela struggled on the other side. “Okay, Rook, but what does this have to do with the feather we’ve been chasing?”

The gossamer feather bounced on the wind until it hovered, rocking gently, back and forth in front of a strip club. Rook quickened their pace.

“When Sheli hit the Earth, or more like splatted, she dropped a few feathers. Seems like they act like homing pigeons. Going back to Momma.”

“So we’re looking for an angel?” Fanny asked, awe filling her voice. “A real one, not like the one in costume I tried to get an autograph from?”

“Yep. A real, live angel. And guess what? She has really, really long dark hair.”

Fanny’s hand flew to her mouth in astonishment. “Do you think she’ll let me braid it? Do you?”

Rook shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask.

Fanny nodded vigorously, but then she frowned as they made their way up to the door of the club. “But if she’s a real angel, then why can’t I sense her?”

“She’s cloaked in flesh, hiding her divinity,” Rook responded, and then with a wink, added, “Told you she was sneaky.”

Tomahawk watched as Rook paid the doorman and Fanny giggled in her giddy way. They might as well be going to Disneyland, in her mind.

“Oh, this is going to be so exciting!”

Ugh. How Tomahawk hoped it wouldn’t be. But how often were his wishes fulfilled?

* * *

Rook entered the club, and everyone followed. The strippers were hard at work up on their poles, but he ignored them as he watched the feather float from one patron to another. He’d let the feather find their mark once he got the group somewhere a little more private.

“This way,” Rook said, indicating a narrow set of stairs with the sign, “Peep Show.”

Quickly, they descended into the basement, where a rather large and greasy-haired bouncer manned the entrance. Rook motioned to Beauty. She grabbed a roll of $100.00 bills from her purse and handed it to him.

Rook tossed them to the bouncer. “We’d like a private booth.”

“All of you?” the man asked, as he raised his unkempt eyebrows. Rook bet Beauty just itched to get this guy in the vicinity of a pair of tweezers.

“Yes,” Rook responded.

The bouncer led them to a room. “Takes all kinds, I guess,” he mumbled as he unlocked the door. “And Lord knows you’ve got ‘em all with ya.”

“Great,” Rook said, ushering his group into the room. “Thanks.”

He shut the door and threw the latch as Tomahawk and Angela got Chad settled onto the bench. Rook turned to Beauty. “Just keep feeding dollar bills into that slot. I don’t want you guys kicked out before I get back.”

Tomahawk straightened, stretching his spine. “Want some backup?”

“Nah,” Rook replied. “I know her weakness. Just weave a binding rope.”

Rook didn’t wait for Tomahawk’s response as he unlatched the door and headed out as the peep show curtain parted. Fanny’s exuberant clapping carried out into the hall. “Oh, goody! We get a show!”