Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) (23 page)

Amidst Noah’s pained groans
, Ridley’s head rose. An arm, which most definitely didn’t belong to him, swung in his face. “
You’re real
!”

“
I could have told you that,” Noah snipped, beginning the bothersome task of unknotting himself, “had you asked
before
tackling me. Thanks to you, I’ve now been to third base with a dude.”

“I thought you were a ghost
,” Ridley admitted with an anxious giggle-snort.

“And here I thought this assignment would be boring,” a
n unrecognizable voice, as smooth and decadent as melted caramel, broke through their chaotic moment.

The space around them brightened, coming alive with
shimmering blue tendrils that chased away the inky blackness. Swirling in a rhythmic dance, the coiling wisps bonded together to form a wicked grinning face. Birthed in shadows, he fully emerged. A ruffled collar protruding from his tailored coat, dated him to a time period of carriages and oil-burning lamps.

Bewildered recognition settled into the lines of Ireland’s face. Her head cocked in confusion, she called the newcomer by name, “
Rip
?”

21

Ridley

“Thath’s not me!” Rip floundered for a more compelling argument,
only to settle on the obvious, “I’m wite hewe!”

“You sure about that?” His younger counterpart floated to his side with a haunting, rolling fluidity. Positioning himself shoulder to shoulder with the aghast older version, he began a cursory comparison. “Same height, some dashingly handsome bone structure. Of course
, yours is hidden beneath an excess of wrinkly skin and flea infested hair, yet if one looks hard enough they can still see it.”

Ridley’s head snapped from the old version to the young and back again.
Pawing at the air in search of Ireland’s hand, beads of sweat popped up along his hairline. “
Ghoul
!” 

“Oh, I’m not a ghoul,
lieve
!” Young Rip corrected, whirling in a corkscrew of vining smoky tendrils. “That’s Dutch for ‘dear,’ by the way.”

Extending her hand to Ridley
to help him up, Ireland’s teeth ground to the point of pain. “I don’t remember asking.”

Bone rolled over bone under the pressure of Ridley’s sweat soaked grip. The second his feet were under him he abandoned the laws of normal human contact
by tugging her to him, intimately close. 

“
Whoa
! What are we doing here?” Ireland squeaked, mentally thanking the darkness for hiding the hot rush of red flooding her cheeks.

“
He’s still here
!” Ridley hissed against her ear. “
He’s real
!”

“Who me?” Young Rip giggled, instantly appearing beside
them. “Funny, I don’t feel real, probably because I can do this.” Jamming his hand through Ireland’s chest, he wriggled his fingers between her shoulder blades before reaching down to slap her ass. “
Yow-za
!”

“Stop that!” Backpedalling, Ireland slapped frantically at his arm
. Her efforts accomplished nothing more than churning up musty air. “We need rules about boundaries …
and
another girl in this little group!”

A
protective flare expanding his chest and tightening the tendons of his neck, Noah caught her sleeve and tugged her behind him. “Or you could go full out Hessian. Playing grab-ass is a riskier game when you throw in a broad sword.”

“That’s right! She
is
the beast.” Young Rip’s face, with its eerie transparency, bobbed before her. “Much prettier than the last one. Then again, it would be difficult to be attractive with spinal fluid pulsating from your neck stump. Even so, deep in the pools of your eyes I can see it there. Waiting. Panting for carnage.”

Her lip curled in a threatening snarl. “That would be my growing dislike for
the ghosts like you.”

“Ghosts? Such creatures are common next to me!” A lilt of amusement trilled through his tone. Another swell of mystical haze and he was back by the older Rip’s side. “I happen to be an extension of this man’s essence, summoned forth when Ridley crammed those enchanted dentures in his mouth.” Tipping his head to Rip, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “It doesn’t get more intimate than wearing another person’s teeth, does it? Hope that fella didn’t have scurvy.”

Rip’s shoulders curled in, his body lurching in a dry heave.

“So, you were brought here by a set of magic
teeth
?” Ireland hitched one eyebrow in blatant disbelief.

“Not just any teeth!”
Young Rip poofed from one of them to the next; leaning on their shoulders, hovering over their heads, even twining between their legs. “They are teeth belonging to a victim slaughtered by the very abomination
you
all are looking for!”
Poof
. “Her name is Lenore, by the way.”
Poof.
“In case you hadn’t pieced that together.”
Poof.
“You don’t look like the ‘quick to deduce’ kind of bunch.”
Poof. Poof. Poof.

“Thhhop it …
me
!” Rip pulled back, stammering his frustration.

“Maybe you could just tell us why you’re here.” Noah
cocked his head, allowing a mask of intimidation to sharpen his features. “And how we get rid of you.”

The entity manifested in the dead center of the group.
Clicking the heels of his shoes together, he bent in a formal bow. “I am here only to serve you. To guide you in your pursuit of that known killer, that you may stop her. Then, we shall
all
get what it is we are after.”

“And what ith it you’re afther?”
Rip folded his arms over his chest and scowled down his nose at him.

“When you’re around? A towel.” Young Rip drifted to him like a f
ast moving storm cloud, pantomiming wiping his mouth with the ruffles of his collar.

“The truth.” Ireland glared.

“Maybe I’ll get my wings.” One translucent shoulder rose and fell in an almost taunting shrug. “Maybe they’ll turn me into a real boy. Of what concern is it to you? Either way you’ll get to slay your monster.”

Noah cast a sideways glance her way, his expression a question mark. “He’s really the only lead we have to find her.”

Silence as heavy as a lead weight fell over the group, all of them contemplating their nonexistent list of alternative options.

The hush was shatter
ed by Ridley’s manic giggle. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you can all see him!”

22

Edgar

Even as a reanimated corpse Lenore was still the most stunningly beautiful woman in the room. The bodice of her black gown hug
ged her curves to the rise of her hips, where it belled out. Ebony fabric split in the front of the full skirt to reveal layer after layer of snow white taffeta beneath. Her cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline exhibited enough of her luminescent skin to tempt every red-blooded man that glanced her way with hungry eyes. Onyx raven feathers swooped from the side of her black lace masquerade mask to hide her scars—the
only
flaws in her otherwise polished appearance.

Catching her elbow, Edgar steered her around the torch
in the middle of the room. It burned behind blue stained glass panes that filled the foyer with an aquatic flair. “While I appreciate that you knew the names of the influential men that would be at this event, I cannot help but wonder how we will recognize them since neither of us have ever laid eyes on them and everyone’s face is covered?”

“Make no mistake,
my darling, I will know them.”

Edgar would’ve questioned her bold statement further had
it not been for the loud gasps and smatterings of applause that filtered through the room at the reaper-masked performer on stilts that meandered in.

“Follow me, oh, sinners and saints! To a world free from restraints!” The entertainer’s body moved with a practiced grace, undulating in tempo with his rehearsed
dialogue. “Each room a glimpse of a new realm of pleasure. Step inside, explore each at your leisure.”

With a grand wave of his arm, he
motioned for the crowd to follow. Edgar and Lenore found themselves caught in a demanding current of bodies, being forced down the narrow hall. Around each sharp bend, spaced out every twenty or thirty yards, they would encounter another chamber. Edgar craned his neck, eager to see the spectacle held within each. The color scheme bestowed on each boxy apartment was cast by a flame behind various colors of glass; blue from the foyer, followed by green, orange, and violet. The costumes of the writhing dancers perfectly matched the chamber that housed them. Through each door lay a whole new world Edgar longed to explore, yet Lenore held firm to his arm and marched on. Her amethyst gaze narrowed with single-minded intent. The crowd thinned around them, partygoers peeling off to mingle in the setting that best suited them.

Out of the corner of his eye
Edgar observed the firm set of Lenore’s jaw, the anxious flare of her nostrils. His brows knit together tight at how thoughtless he had been. So many people, clearly his beloved was overwhelmed at her first outing. “The spirits are flowing free this night, my flower,” he said, clearing his throat and attempting a casual façade. “Any business discussions held here will not be remembered come the morrow. Perhaps we should take our leave?”

If Lenore heard him, and there was little doubt that she had,
she failed to even bat an eye in response. Her strides became more determined as they rounded the last bend, where a gigantic ebony clock swelled before them. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a monotonous clang, as if keeping time with the drumming pulse of the party. The room that housed it was noticeably absent of the whimsical flare of its predecessors. Black velvet tapestries shrouded the ceiling and walls. The gothic arched panes of this chamber had been stained a bleeding scarlet. The light streaming through those fire-lit panes casted a ghastly ambiance few would be brave enough to endure. Five men fit that bill. They stood huddled in the center of the room, their thick bellies and broad chests puffed with self-importance. Lewd smiles curled across their lips as they spoke in hushed whispers.

A hiss, more animal than human, escaped Lenore’s clenched jaw
. Seizing Edgar’s wrist hard enough to bruise the skin, she yanked him further into the shadows where they could hide.

“That man in the white coat with the heavy beard is Augustus Fantaine.
He
is the reason we are here.”

Shivers of ice prickled down
Edgar’s spine at the unmistakable threat dripping from her tone. “You lured me here under the pretenses this involved a vocation. I have the unmistakable feeling that is not the case.”

Her head snapped his way, silver specks swirling through her violet eyes
like a warning flare. “You
have
a vocation, Edgar. A very important one you have been ignoring since the moment you watched Dougie die.”