A Tale of Two Goblins: A Paranormal Romance/ Urban Fantasy Page 12
“Bram, do you really think you could take on a room full of Netherworld creatures?”
He was strong but not that strong.
“My three hundred years have increased my stamina and strength, Sweet. Do not argue with me. Thirty minutes.”
I reached for the door handle, suddenly remembering my house keys in my lap. I handed them to Bram. “Keep these in a safe place, will you?”
He nodded and I could feel his eyes on me as I closed the car door and approached the back end of the building. Nerves short-circuited through me, making my heart pound so fast I was afraid it might stop. I took a deep, steadying breath and told myself I’d be fine, that I’d get through this and in thirty minutes, Bram and I would be en route to my apartment, easy peasy.
If I’d thought the parking lot looked like it had seen better days, the building was in even worse repair. It was a one story hovel of a place that looked as if one good breath of wind would knock it to Kingdom Come. The click of my heels against the pavement was the only sound in the dark night and I forced myself to the rear of the shack, searching for the door.
I found it hidden behind an overgrown bush and pushed the branches aside, knocking twice. There was no answer. Thinking maybe I should knock again, I held my hand up at the same moment as the door opened a fraction of an inch and I could just make out the crooked nose and yellow teeth of the man I presumed to be the bouncer.
“I’m here as a gift for Quillan, from Bram,” I said, my voice two octaves higher than it normally was. And it wasn’t from nerves—I’d planned that one. “Is Quillan here?”
“Gift from Bram, you said?” the man repeated and I could feel his gaze as it followed my body from chest to toe. “Gimme a minute.”
He should have asked for five minutes because that’s how long his absence felt. Finally he returned and opened the door. He was a huge guy—over six feet two and…as wide as he was tall. He was maybe in his late thirties and had the look of someone who had worked the boat docks for too long. I didn’t recognize him which was a good thing. I stepped inside and gasped when he pushed me against the wall.
“Gotta check ya for weapons,” he grunted and the smile on his face said he’d enjoy it.
I clenched my teeth but didn’t say anything, just held my hands up as he copped a feel left and right. After he patted me down once, his hands returned to my bust and I pushed him away. “No weapons there, asshole,” I whispered, hoping he’d think I was just a call girl with attitude.
He snickered. “I gotta tell Bram ta send me a gift. He picks the good ones.”
I arched a brow to show I wasn’t pleased and waited for him to lead me to Quillan. He looked me up and down again and then started down the dank hallway. I followed him, the smell of mildew thick in my nose. There was a door at the end of the hallway and he pulled out a set of keys. As soon as he unlocked and opened the door, the raucous sound of laughter and Finger Eleven’s “Paralyzer” was thick in my ears. The acrid scent of cigarette smoke billowed into the hallway like nicotine ghosts and was enough to gag me. Bubba ushered me into the room and I felt my heart drop at the sound of the key in the doorknob behind me, locking us in.
I glanced up and noticed four girls on an impromptu dance floor, each one gyrating around a pole connecting the floor to the ceiling. They were humans and only had on shoes. I tried to remember not to appear prudish and pumped my hair, trying to appear like any other call girl concerned with her appearance. The truth of the matter was that I wanted to hide my face as best I could—there were men, (well, vamps and demons mostly) in the room, sitting in booths in the far corners. Luckily for me, it was dark enough that they couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see them. That suited me just fine.
“Follow me,” Bubba grunted and I was quick behind him. He led me through the strippers and I could feel the hungry eyes of the males in the room—I was fresh meat and to some of them, that was probably exactly what I was—a new tasty morsel.
Bubba stopped before another door and knocked. The door opened and he and whoever was on the other side had an exchange I couldn’t make out. Not that it really mattered—I imagined Bubba was explaining that I was the gift Quillan was waiting for. Quillan…just the idea that I was going to see him again was settling in my stomach like a hive full of bees. I was excited, yes and I’d missed him so much but at the same time, he was leading a life now that was so foreign. The fact that he was even in a dump like this was an eye opener. He didn’t belong here—he wasn’t this caliber of person.
The doorman stepped aside and allowed us both entrance. Inside, the room was nicer than the stripper room. There were a few weres playing cards and others sat around the perimeter of the room with women on their laps. I glanced around for Quillan but couldn’t find him. I did, however, recognize many faces and dropped my own, worried they might recognize me.
“He’s up here,” Bubba announced and started up a ramp into a section of the room that sat higher than the rest of it. It was completely dark aside from the glow of a few candles. A large round table dominated the area and there were four people seated around it. From the looks of it, they were playing Poker... I glanced at a bra looped over one of the chairs…hmm, Strip Poker.
“For you,” Bubba announced and gave me a firm shove forward.
I glanced down at the figure of a man seated at the table. He leaned against his elbow languidly and looked up at us indifferently.
Quillan.
“All of you out,” Quillan said and everyone around the table scattered. Bubba was quick behind them.
Quillan glanced at me and smiled warmly. “So, why would Bram send me a gift when I have no relationship with him?”
I couldn’t respond right away. I was still in shock to find Quillan hanging out in this craphole, surrounded by naked women. I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy that was reverberating through me but whatever the feeling, I didn’t like it.
“Don’t you speak?” he demanded and reminded me of the fact that he’d said his first statement a little too loudly. A new feeling of angst pounded through me. The last thing I needed was a roomful of thugs wondering who the hell I was.
I approached his chair and dropped to my knees, hoping he’d recognize me, hoping I wouldn’t have to say anything. He continued staring at me like I was dumb. Dammit, he wasn’t getting it. I pulled my hair back and put my face right up into his, pretending like I was going to kiss him. He didn’t pull away, so I turned my face until my mouth was right beside his ear, my breasts up close and personal with his face.
“It’s me, Dulcie,” I whispered.
He grabbed my arms and pushed me away from him, as if he thought I was lying and wanted to get a better look. When he did, realization dawned in his eyes. “Ah, Bram sent me a good one,” he said, apparently now on to my ruse. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look?”
Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, demanding and hungry. I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help it. I’d imagined kissing Quillan so many times and once a long time ago, we actually had. Now the feel of his lips brought that memory pouring back into me—how much I once cared about Quillan, how he’d been one of my closest friends, how he’d betrayed me…
I pulled away and he stood up, grabbing my hand. He started down the ramp and drew me close behind him. We reached the entryway again and Quillan yanked aside a curtain to his left that had been obscuring another door. He glanced at the doorman and the doorman unlocked it.
“I don’t want to be disturbed,” Quillan warned him. I had to wonder how high Quillan ranked in the underground hierarchy. Based on the way people treated him here, it seemed pretty high.
The doorman glanced at me and nodded, saying nothing. Quillan turned to face me and held the door wide. “After you.”
I entered the room and was suddenly aware of the fact that Quillan truly was one of the bad guys. If I hadn’t thought it before, I definitely thought it now. He was up to his neck in a lifestyle that was so alien from mine, and so compl
etely foreign from what his used to be. Maybe I wasn’t welcome here—maybe he’d turn me over to the dogs of this establishment and was just biding his time? Maybe it had been incredibly stupid of me to come, trusting that he still cared for me.
“Dulcie, what the hell were you thinking coming here?” he demanded once he’d locked the door behind him. He flipped on the light which bathed him and the room in an eerie red. It was the first chance I’d had to really get a good look at him. He seemed somehow broader, stronger. His face was the same old Quillan I knew so well—clean shaven, angular and universally handsome.
I glanced around, wondering if it was safe to talk, wondering if people on the other side of the door could hear us. Would they even be listening? I felt unbelievably uncomfortable but based on the fact that Quillan was acting as if everything was okay, I calmed down.
“I didn’t have anyone else to come to,” I started. “I’m in trouble.”
He was beside me momentarily, engulfing me in his big arms. His scent was thick in my nostrils—Tommy Bahama aftershave I’d missed so much. I rested my head against his chest and wrapped my arms around him, I couldn’t help it.
“What’s wrong?” he insisted and I was suddenly overcome by the fact that I wasn’t angry with him anymore. The last time I’d seen him, when I’d attempted to apprehend him, I’d been hurt and furiously angry. I’d had to talk myself out of shooting him. And now? Now I only felt empty.
“There’s too much to tell you now, Quill.”
He smiled at the old nickname and pulled away from me, glancing down at me. “I thought maybe you’d come to take me into custody.” But, by the sound of his voice, I knew he was kidding.
“No, I’m here to break the law,” I said and shook my head at the absurdity of the whole thing. “I can’t talk long, Bram is waiting for me in the parking lot and he said if I didn’t come out in thirty minutes, he’d come in. If I had to guess, I probably have twenty minutes left.”
“How can I help you, Dulce?” he whispered before running his hand through my hair. “What did you do to yourself?”
“I could hardly come waltzing in here without some sort of getup, could I?”
He laughed. “No, hardly.” He was quiet again as he pushed a lock of hair behind my ear as tenderly as a lover. “You look just as beautiful as I remember,” he said and the tone of his voice matched the same sense of sorrow that was coursing through me. He knew as well as I did that things would never be the same between us. Maybe in another life, another time, we could have been something great together. But, not now.
“I’ve missed you,” he continued.
I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I’d missed him too. There was just so far my hurt ego would reach. And I wouldn’t let it go there. I stepped away from him and focused on the reason I was here. “There’s a Dreamstalker after me, Quill, and it nearly took me down a few nights ago. I’m lucky to be alive.”
He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest and in the red light coming from the corner of the room, I could see shock and anger in his gaze. He looked like he was going to say something but I beat him to it.
“I need Gargoyle’s Mandrake and I need enough to last me the rest of this week.” I was quiet after the words left my mouth, allowing them to sink in. He said nothing and the silence of the room was deafening. “Can you get it for me?”
“Yes, easily,” he said but his voice was troubled.
I dropped my gaze from his, feeling suddenly guilty that I was asking for an illegal narcotic—me, a previous Regulator. I couldn’t even allow myself to consider what Knight would think. Instead, I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and tried to make small talk. “It seems like you’re pretty high up on the totem pole?” I asked. “How are you even hanging out with these guys, Quill? This isn’t you.”
He faced me angrily. “Yes, I’m at the top of the totem pole but I hope you didn’t come to lecture me.”
I approached him and grabbed his hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just…just hate seeing you like this. You don’t belong here.”
He pulled his hand away and ran it through his wavy blond hair. “This is my life now, Dulce. You can’t save me. This is who I am and I’m okay with it.”
I sighed, hating the words even as he said them. But, this wasn’t my fight—he was what he was and someday we’d butt heads in a major way—of that I was sure. But that day wasn’t now. Now I needed his help. Maybe someday he’d come to me and I could offer the same.
“So, you can get it for me?” I demanded.
He didn’t say anything right away and I wondered if this trip had been a huge waste of my time. After another few seconds, he nodded and a huge sigh of relief traveled through me.
“You know how addictive it is?”
“I don’t care,” I answered, dropping my attention to the stained carpet beneath my feet. “I’ve wracked my mind, Quill, I’ve tried to find any other solution but I can’t. It’s come down to life and death. I can’t fall asleep or the Dreamstalker will kill me.” I paused for a moment, not sure how to tell him there was more and that it was terrible. “Quill, Sam’s in a coma.”
He brought his gaze from his shoes to my face and there was worry and pain in his eyes. “How long?”
“She has maybe a week left,” I didn’t even recognize my voice—it was so full of pain. If Sam died…no, I would not allow myself to consider the thought. Quill shook his head but I didn’t let him comment. “I want to know all the details of the time you apprehended Druiva. I need to know what I’m up against. And I need the Mandrake.”
“It’s not the same case.”
“Well, obviously. Druiva is locked up,” I started, but he interrupted me.
“There’s a new form of criminal out there, Dulce.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, deep and hard. “There’s blood being sold on the black market. Blood taken from Netherworld creatures and sold to other creatures so they can become that much stronger.”
I felt my heart actually stop. My mouth dropped open and I thought I might throw up. This was bad, very bad. But, suddenly it all made sense—the fact that Dia hadn’t been able to feel the dark power of a somnogobelinus going through the Transcendence, the fact that my magic had worked the night of the accident. The scary part was now I had no clue what I was up against. What I was sure of, though, was the fact that whatever it was, it wasn’t a true Dreamstalker, it was just ingesting the blood of one.
Then something ugly dawned on me and I brought my gaze to his. “Are you dealing this blood, Quill? Is that how you know about it?”
“No, of course not,” he answered like I should never have asked. “I know about it because I’ve seen it—I’ve seen creatures here who demonstrated powers they never should have. I kept my ears and eyes open—I have to in my position.”
I nodded, but my heart was low in my chest as I realized how deeply imbued he was in this lifestyle. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“Dulcie, please be careful,” he said and his compassion was enough to paralyze me. It was the same comment he’d made so many times when we’d worked side by side at the ANC.
“Please don’t say that,” I said, pulling my hand away as I felt my voice crack. “This is hard enough as it is.”
If I was worried he hadn’t gotten my gist, by the slight nod and small smile on his face, I realized he understood it and not only that, was thinking and feeling the same things I was.
“Is it true you’re off the force?” he asked, apparently supposing a new change of subject was in order. He walked to the far end of the room and leaned down, opening a cupboard door. By the way he was turning his hand, I had to imagine he was unlocking a safe.
I took a second to answer. “Yeah, I retired.”
He glanced back and me and frowned. “You were the best Regulator the ANC had, why would you do that?”
I wasn’t sure how he’d take the truth. But
, it wasn’t like I was about to lie to him. “I failed, Quill. I should have taken you into custody that night but I didn’t. I allowed my personal feelings to get in the way and I failed in my responsibility. I’m not the Regulator you thought I was…or I thought I was.”
He stood up, gripping a small vial in one fist and a plastic bag in another. He was visibly angry. “That’s a load of bullshit. You were the best and you still are the best.”
I shook my head but he didn’t allow me to speak. Instead, he approached me and grabbed my hand, pushing the vial into my palm.
“And as to your personal feelings for me, I appreciate you allowing them to get in the way.”
Then before I could even realize what he was doing, his lips were on mine again, rough and demanding. The one kiss Quill and I had shared way back when had been sweet and this one was nothing like that, it was hot, and hard, almost angry. It was a side of Quillan I’d never seen before. I closed my eyes and reveled in the taste of him, the feel of him but realizing where we were and what had happened, I pulled away. There was a gap between us that would never be resolved. I was fire and he was water.
“This can’t happen between us,” I whispered and took a few steps away. “I would hate myself.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He handed me the plastic bag and his body language was all business, as if he’d shelved the emotional stuff and moved on.
“Quill,” I started and wasn’t really sure what to say.
He shook his head and it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. He pointed to the plastic bag. “Those will cancel the effects of the Mandrake and they’ll make your withdrawals that much easier to combat.” He paused a second or two. “I’ve given you enough Mandrake to last all week but if you stay on it that long, there’s no telling how hard it will be to come down. I really should have given you only a three day supply.”
“Quill, I’m a big girl, I think I know how to say no.”
He nodded but it was unconvincing. “Don’t ever let it out that I gave you those and don’t let anyone know you came here. It’s bad enough Bram knows.” He was quiet for a minute and then faced me with pain in his expression. “Are you and Bram…”