I felt bad we had run her out but we had to discuss our plan for tonight and we couldn’t do that with Laura breathing down our necks. Daemon suggested we step outside so we had more privacy. We followed him through the sliding glass doors onto the patio. The rain had stopped and glorious rays of sun were peeking through the clouds.
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, meaning business. “You obviously know more to the story about Emily’s disappearance, so spill.”
For the second time that day, Daemon and I relayed a modified version of the story. Thankfully, they took it at face value and didn’t ask any questions when we were done except for one: How were we going to get Emily back?
Daemon switched off the car and stared out into the darkness. Lucy, the twins, and I sat glued to our seats afraid to move, let alone breathe. We had spent the last six hours going over the plan until it was etched into our minds. Nonetheless, I felt like I would never be ready for this moment. My mom had woken up from her nap, as we were about to walk out the door. She noticed our all black outfits along with our expressions of fear and fit together the pieces. Instead, of trying to stop us, she had handed me a necklace. A tree was etched into a gold coin to signify long life.
“Come back to me,” she murmured as she secured it around my neck.
I reached up and rubbed my thumb against the coin, channeling my mom’s love into strength. The warehouse was in the middle of an abandoned parking lot. Its gray exterior was devoid of any windows and the garage door was sprayed with graffiti. The words ‘Cherish this World’ stood out amongst the unreadable phrases surrounding it, which was how we knew we were in the right location. The voodoo priest had texted me from Emily’s phone an hour ago, giving us directions to the “hippy” warehouse. He said the garage door would open at a quarter to nine. If I was late or brought anyone, Emily would suffer the consequences. I was starting to realize amongst the voodoo priest’s love for games, he was also bossy and threats were his MO. Everything I hated.
“What time is it?” I asked with unease.
Daemon glanced at his cell phone. “9:30.”
“Fifteen minutes to go,” Lucy said.
Exacting revenge on the voodoo priest seemed so close yet so far away. Daemon turned the car back on and with the lights off, and cruised to an area where the truck was out of view. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. The twins had remained mute since we climbed into the vehicle, their anxiety palpable. Daemon and Lucy however seemed calm and collected compared to us. Death didn’t scare Daemon that I knew. Lucy though…Lucy was an enigma.
I rotated in my seat and looked at her. “Are you doing ok?”
She tore her gaze away from the window and fixated on me. Her voice came out dead, as if her emotions were non-existent. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine,” she repeated.
In history class, I learned that before they went into battle, warriors removed their inner selves from their bodies. It seemed as if Lucy was doing exactly that. As long as she got out alive, I didn’t care what methods she practiced. Leaving Lucy alone, I dug into my bag for my cell phone to check for any new messages. The screen was blank with the numbers 9:35 glowing in neon green. The tension in the car escalated as the minutes passed. By the time 9:45 had arrived, everybody was holding their breath. In the distance, a light clicked on above the garage door, once….then twice. It was show time.
Daemon looked over at me. His eyes held reluctance. “I wish we didn’t have to do this. I wish we were a normal couple out on a Friday night.”
“I know but I stopped wishing for normal a long time ago.” I closed the distance between us and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Be safe.”
“I will. Back at ya.”
My hand clamped around the door handle and taking a deep breath, I pushed it open. Before my feet hit the gravel, I spun around. “I’ll see you guys on the other side.”
Lucy, the twins, and Daemon gave me encouraging smiles even if they didn’t believe the words I spoke. The cool night air welcomed me into its embrace. Gripping the coin in my palm, I squared my shoulders back and went to go meet my fate.
As I drew closer to the warehouse, the garage door squeaked open and a man dressed in a business suit stood on the other side. Gold chains hung heavy around his neck while the smell of Gucci cologne wafted in the breeze. Please don’t tell me this was the voodoo priest, or should I say
wannabe Mafia boss
? My legs wavered but the reason why I was there propelled me forward. The overhead lights illuminated the man’s face and I stopped in my tracks. He didn’t have a nose or eyebrows. Rivets of scars marked his pale white skin. Nausea turned my stomach. It was as if I had stepped into a bad nightmare and couldn’t wake up.
“Welcome,” he said distantly. “The boss is waiting for you.”
Well, that answered my question. The faceless man wasn’t the voodoo priest but they were all morons if they thought I would step foot into the warehouse unless there was proof Emily was alive.
“No,” I said abruptly.
The man’s cool expression registered a flash of surprise.
“Where’s Emily?”
“Once second, please.” His fingers flew over the keyboard of a cell phone then pocketed the device. “The boss will be with you in one moment.”
Triumph zapped through my veins. “That’s what I thought.” Except now I was stuck with the faceless man.
I tapped my foot against the cement floors as I did my best not to stare at his appearance.
How do you live without a nose?
The man met my gaze without shame. “It was a fire.”
“What?”
The man gestured to his face and spoke again. “I lost my nose in a fire. My family perished along with my looks.”
Ashamed at my quick judgment that the man wasn’t a human being with emotions, my cheeks heated. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. Just thought you should know.”
“Why?”
His eyes churned with inky blackness and I felt a chill go down my spine. I took what I said back, my judgment still stood. There was a monster hidden inside him. “Because nobody should die with questions fresh in their mind.”
I did what anybody would do when a witty comeback wouldn’t come to mind. I very maturely stuck out my tongue. The sound of heels clipping against the floors saved me from this heart-warming conversation.
A woman dressed in a form fitting pair of jeans and white top came up behind the faceless man and dismissed him. “You can leave, Corence.”
He bowed and skittered off. Once again, this woman wasn’t the voodoo priest either. I was starting to become incredibly annoyed he was sending out his zombies and wouldn’t face me himself.
“It’s starting to look as if the voodoo priest doesn’t have a pair of balls,” I mocked.
“I’m Magenta, the voodoo priest’s mistress and I can assure you he has a pair of balls.”
Mistress? A man as cold hearted and ruthless as the voodoo priest actually had somebody who warmed his bed at night? My mind was officially blown. Magenta flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, flashing an armful of diamond bracelets.
“So where’s Emily?” I asked, getting back on topic. “Because like I said to the last dude, I’m not stepping into the warehouse unless I see her.”
She centered her scrutinizing gaze on my figure with a displeased smirk. “I thought you would look different for somebody who is the chosen one. Not so plump.”
After I killed the voodoo priest, this bitch would get her own as well. I wasn’t plump. I was curvy. There was a difference and as a woman, Magenta should understand that.
She sighed as if she had grown bored with our exchange and clapped her hands together. “Bring in the girl.”
I looked around to figure out whom the hell she was talking to because the warehouse was empty except for us. Sure enough though, a discreet door opened off to the side. My pulse thrummed. A man walked into the warehouse holding a girl’s hand. A burlap sack obscured her face and she stumbled blindly after him. The sound of metal clinking together rang out into the night air. With revulsion, I saw her ankles were bound together by metal cuffs.
Oh, Emily. What have I gotten you into?
Once they reached us, the man pushed Emily to her knees. He looked over at Magenta and she gave a slight nod. The burlap sack was removed, revealing a sleep deprived Emily. She blinked against the lights. I rushed over to her; grateful my friend was alive.
“You’re ok?” My eyes examined Emily’s condition. “You don’t seem hurt. Are you hurt?”
Emily looked at me dazed as if she couldn’t believe I was in front of her. “You’re here?”
“Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t have left you to rot.”
Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, which activated my own. We sat there together on the cement ground, crying and laughing. Overcome with emotion.
“Thank you,” Emily whispered as she grabbed my hand. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course.”
Magenta groaned and yanked Emily up by the arm. “Enough. All this girly shit is giving me a headache.” She looked over at the man who brought Emily in. “Release her.”
Emily and I locked eyes as the man followed orders. He undid the chains around her ankles and gestured his head toward the exit. Her feet stayed firmly planted, unwavering as our friendship.
“Go,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
“I can’t leave you.”
Although my eyes might have said differently, there wasn’t a choice. Emily couldn’t stay here unless she wanted to end up in the ground.