Blood cursed, p.19
Blood Cursed, page 19
Inside, dusty steps led down. A single light globe buzzed and flickered, the distant creak of a generator echoing. He led me downward into the fresh fairy scents of lavender and jasmine. My metal heels clicked on each step, and sweat dripped between my breasts. The air heated as we descended, darkness swarming.
The skinny fairy pushed aside a motheaten velvet curtain, and fiery light dazzled.
I blinked, squinting. Low ceiling, mottled brick walls. On one side, a bar stretched, metal stools and a polished redwood bench with beer on tap and colored liqueurs shelved along the wall. A purple glossy-winged bargirl polished glassware, her frilly skirt frothing. Cherry alcohol and delicious perfume drenched my nose, making me want to inhale more. From somewhere, rhythmic music filtered. Air flowed gently, an unseen fan or window, and even the heat seemed bearable, welcoming.
Red velvet loveseats scattered the room, little alcoves for two or three with cushions, wooden tables, copper vases with single red carnations. It was only early, but the place was full, men and women, fae and human, and not all vinylfetish apemen like I’d expected. I saw jeans, evening dresses, sleek skirts and heels. Dampbright wings shone, skin of a dozen different colors gleaming in sweat, the crisp glint of clean vampire teeth.
I swallowed, smoothing my shinyclad hips. I felt overdressed. Had Vincent brought me to the wrong place? A couple of fairy boys kissed at the bar, green fingers twining in sootblack hair, and a girl and a guy danced in a clinch by the door. But that was it. No brawling or drunken revels, no puddles of vomit, no music screaming so loud, you couldn’t think. No one taking drugs. Not even anyone screwing in the corners that I could see. Unseelie Court was far seedier than this. I liked it here. The kind of place your boy might take you on a date.
Unless your boy was a sparklefreak gangbanger.
Not that this was the pointificality, as Diamond would say. I just needed to find Famine. Steal his gem. Bug out. Easy.
An elbow jabbed my ribs. I jumped back. “Huh?”
Skinnyfae handed me a pair of pinkglass spectacles. “Take these. Don’t put ’em on yet. They’re for the client.”
Confused, I took them. Wire-rimmed, thick oval glass lenses the color of diluted blood. The hinges were bent, the wire doubled over in loops. Looked like a mad professor made them. I held them to the light, peering through, but saw only a dizzy pink blur.
I snickered. Like I needed these. I was already winning Idiotic Optimist of the Week, imagining I could escape Kane’s trap. “Rose-tinted glasses. You’re kidding, right?”
Skinny’s wetslug lips stretched in a smirk. “You’ll see. Now wait here and I’ll sort out your client. Drinks on the house for players. Back soon.” And he unfurled limp gray wings and drifted away, down a dimming corridor out of sight.
O-kaay.
I folded the glasses and tucked them in at my hip, sliding one wire earpiece down inside my skirt. Urgency nibbled my toes. My time just started ticking. When Skinny found out I’d lied, he’d throw me out, or worse. Better get on with it.
I sauntered up to the bar, trying to keep it cool. My dress kept sticking to my thighs. Damn, it was hot. I could really use a drink. Champagne cocktail, for choice.
The purple girl smiled at me, long dragonfly wings flickering violet and green. “It’s okay. No need to be scared. Champagne cocktail, is it?”
I blinked, and tried to toughen it up with a saucy sneer. I didn’t look scared, did I? “Uh … yeah. Thanks.”
Her blue ponytail bobbed as she filled a glass, long aubergine fingers curling. A pair of pink wire-rimmed glasses, same as mine, perched on her turned-up nose.
Curiosity prickled. What were they for? I didn’t want to ask in case it gave me away. I sipped, thirsty, the fine bubbles tingling my throat. “Hey, uh … is Famine here tonight?”
She giggled and crossed her eyes. “Well, yeah. He’s always here. You new?”
“Uh-huh. Client, you know. Special order. I kinda wanted to talk to Famine about that, actually. Make sure the, uh, payment’s satisfactory. He around?”
But she just smiled and pushed me a plate of peanuts as she glided away. “Sit down, make yourself at home. Famine knows. He’ll be out soon.”
Damn. She wasn’t revealing anything. Maybe I’d have better luck with the clientele.
I wandered off, sipping my champagne. Good stuff, too, not the cheap shit. Jasper had spoiled me for bubbly with too many giggly nights on the Moët. Anything less tasted like piss.
At the tables, couples chatted and laughed. I saw more pairs of glasses, on the table or in pockets or sticking out of bags. Everyone had them, but no one wore them, and intrigue tickled my spine. What were they for? 3D glasses? Some kind of light show?
I draped myself on a red velvet chaise longue, beside a green troll with polished black horns and golden earrings, sitting quietly alone with his beer. I grinned and tossed one boot over the couch’s edge, showing off my thigh right under his flat bull nose. “Hey, baby.”
Trollboy kept drinking his beer, vast shoulders hunched in a tight black T-shirt, but his gaze flickered to where my tiny skirt barely shadowed what was underneath.
I tried again, a coquettish smile, hooking one claw into my hair. “I’m a friend of Famine’s, y’know. Special like. You looking for some company—Ugh!”
He gripped the soft inside of my thigh with a thick green hand, too hard, way too close to my crotch for comfort. He growled low, tusks gleaming. “Sure, honey. You’ve got a beautiful big mouth. Wanna swallow my cock?”
His fingers bruised me, and I wanted to roll my eyes. Great. A rude one. I’d heard worse, but this would never do for my image. I tried to laugh, but his claws ripped my skin, crawling upward to where it was tender.
My skin wriggled like wet caterpillars. Eww. If he touched me there, I’d punch his lights out. “Know what? I changed my mind. Get your lousy hands offa me, asshole.”
He yanked my leg, pulling me onto my back with my knee crooked around his shoulder, and ripped my pistol holster from my thigh and tossed it to the floor. “You take a shit, you swim in it, bitch.”
“Hey!” I kicked at him, but he held me fast. No one took any notice. What kinda place was this? I wriggled, furious. “How dare you, minion? Let me go and say you’re sorry right now. What the hell do I look like, a victim?”
He slicked his rough tongue up my thigh, hot and slimy. My skin recoiled like a salty leech, and he gave me a lascivious grin. “Honey, that’s exactly what you look like,” he growled, and sank his blunt teeth into my thigh.
My flesh crunched. I jerked back, skin tearing with a spurt of pain. “Ow! Jesus fucking Christ—”
Electricity sizzled, a hot white flash, and the troll yelped like a girl and let me go.
I scrambled up, wary. Blood trickled down my smarting thigh, shining like rubies with moonfire and shock, and I flicked it angrily away. Yuck. That hurt. What next?
Skinnyfae poked at the troll with his bangstick, and dry white static crackled. “Tsk, tsk. Take it downstairs, bozo.”
The troll gripped his singed cheek and growled, but backed off, his teeth still dark with my blood. Asshole.
Skinny flapped limp gray wings and aimed his stick at my nose. “You. Famine’s girl. Come with me.”
I bent for my gun, but he kicked it aside. “Bang-bang not allowed.” And he darted away.
I stretched my burning thigh and followed, excitement and apprehension fighting like rats under my skin. I’d done it. He believed me. Or was I waltzing into a trap? Either way, too late to change my mind now.
Skinnyfae headed for a dim corridor that curved out of sight. I stumbled to catch up. “Hey, thanks. I mean, who did that guy think he was, chewing on the staff like that?”
Skinnyfae cackled, twirling his stick. “He’s a client. Snap snap, always too quick to choose. Should be more discerning, yes yes. Come along, no wastie. Snap those heels. That’s it.”
The corridor curved to stairs leading down, lit by another single glass bulb. I hesitated. Take it downstairs, Skinny said. Right after that troll bit my leg in half. “Uh, look, are you sure the client’s ready? Because I can just as well stay up here—”
“No time, special lady. Not a spare moment. Skip-skip.” Skinny ran down the steps, his scrawny legs scything, and pulled open a heavy door.
Nothing scary. Just more brick corridor, dim orange light.
But the smell made me gag. So faint, I could hardly detect it. But visceral. Dark. Squishy like meat. The horrid, caustic taste of fear.
My ears pricked, and a distant scream kicked my heart into a gallop. I jerked back. “Look, I’ve made a mistake—ugh!”
Skinnyfae darted behind me on dry rustling wings and shoved me forward.
I lurched and staggered, panic swelling my blood, but too late. My heels tangled, and I tumbled into that fear-drenched doorway.
The door slammed behind me, echoing in dull silence. Light glared, watering my eyes blind. Terror slashed me with icy fangs, and I whirled, looking for Skinnyfae, anyone, anything that might attack me.
But I didn’t see what grabbed my wrist and dragged me into blackness.
20
A rough brick wall slammed into my shoulder. Another door crunched shut. I staggered, breathless, my heart thumping wild. Total blackness.
I strained my eyes and blinked, but it was useless. Open or closed, it made no difference. I waved terrified hands in front of my face, scrabbling for light. Nothing.
Sweat dripped over my wings. Heat drowned me. I couldn’t breathe. The air was so black, the heat so complete and horrible and empty, that with a horrid jolt, I knew.
I was dead. This was hell. It was over.
Dread writhed under my skin like maggots. My moonrich pulse hammered, my ears useless. Tears stung my eyes. I scrabbled for the wall, stumbling along for a few steps, but it reached no junction and offered no comfort. Hot blackness squelched down my throat like tar, and I screamed until my breath died.
The echo faded, leaving me in burning black silence.
“Put your glasses on.” A cold voice clanged like dead bells, no echo.
I gasped, my tongue parched, and flung my arms out, searching left and right. “What? Who’s there? Let me the hell out of here!”
“Put your glasses on, Ember.”
“What the hell for, you fucking idiot? I can’t bloody see!” I slammed my fists against the wall at my sides, hot tears leaking onto my cheeks. Rile up your captor. Good one, Emmy. Rule one for dealing with an unpredictable boy: Don’t argue. Ever.
“Just do it.”
Blindly I scrabbled at my hip, and found twisted wire. God help me if they were broken. I unfolded them clumsily, my sweaty fingers slipping, and jammed them on my nose.
Scarlet light flashed, blinding me all over again.
I yelled and squeezed my eyes shut, tears dripping through my fingers. Crazy burn-in savaged my retinas, shapes, colors, figures, a crowded room full of outlines. What the hell?
Cautiously, I squeaked one eye open.
Pale colors greeted me, a wall, the outline of the door I’d come in by. I hooked the wire over my pointed ears and blinked my tears clear. Outside the rims of the lenses, blackness still suffocated. But inside, the light rippled, stained translucent red like bloody water, and I could see everything. Like some strange pink night-vision goggles.
Weird.
Figures moved and shimmered, outlined like scarlet ghosts. I saw a woman lying on a bench, a figure huddled in a corner, a thin person striding up and down. Over there, someone backed against a glimmering white wall, wings splayed flat, and another figure leaned over her.
I swallowed. “Who’s there? I’m lost. Can you help me?”
No one answered. But those people were right there. They must have heard me.
“Excuse me?” I reached out, but my claws cracked on rough brick.
I jumped back, startled. I couldn’t see a wall. I flattened my palms and reached again. There it was, solid, a brick wall between me and them.
Glasses that saw through walls. Light that wasn’t there. This was too peculiar. But I could see the door, and that was enough. Leaving now.
I turned, and Skinnyfae grinned.
I jerked back, cracking my head against the wall.
He cackled, his own pink glasses hooked over greasy ears. In this strange light he looked like a weird cartoon, pink edges mingling with black. “Ha ha. Gotcha. Good trick, eh?”
Fury blew through me like a gale, and I shoved him backwards, my palms itching to rip his skin off. “You little bastard.”
He whooped, catching himself on dusty wings. His bald oystershell skull shone as he tutted in mock displeasure, waving his stick. “Language.”
“Screw language, grandpa. Let me the fuck out of here!”
“‘Fraid I can’t do that.”
“Oh, really?” I advanced on him, shaking. “Well, let me tell you something. People know where I am. Important people. They’ll come looking for me, and when they’ve finished, you’ll be a little gray birdshit smear on the wall. How d’ya like that?” It was a long shot. But I was so furious, I didn’t care.
“Mmm. Sounds serious.” He cackled, rubbing skinny wrists together. “I’m quivering. Want a chewy?” And he actually offered me his pack of gum.
I smacked it out of his hand. “Knock it off, you freak! What is this place? And who the hell do you think you are, treating me like this?”
“You know, that’s the first intelligent question you’ve asked all night.” His gaze flashed up at me, cold and hard, and the air rippled white.
My membranes tingled in warning, and I backed against the wall, tensing to flee.
In a flash, his black eyes gleamed red.
Ozone stung my tongue, and magic lit the air like gunpowder. Glamour crystallized around him, an icy cocoon, and shattered.
His scrawny body grew, towering over me, his black skin bleaching white. Drybone hair crackled from his skull, brittle and corpselike. His face thinned, cheekbones hollowing, his bloodless white skin straining shiny over his skeleton like a starving thing’s. Those floppy gray wings parched white, thin insectoid membranes torn with crumbling ragged edges.
He tossed his stick aside, like he’d no further use for it, and the same dazzling electric field zapped between his skeletal three-knuckle fingers like a toy. Pink lenses gleamed on his fleshless nose as he smiled, lips cracking like overdry paper. “So you deserve an intelligent answer. I’m Famine, and this place is mine. Let’s get started, shall we?”
21
Famine strode up to me, static flickering between his starved fingers. He grinned, ravenous, withered gums exposing his teeth.
Cold sweat dripped into my boots. His body was emaciated, the wasted muscles in his chest contorted like wire. Famished indeed. Like he hadn’t eaten for a month, and I was dinner.
He looked transparent and brittle, like spun candy. Like ice. Or glass.
Glassfairy. My stomach shriveled. If he could read my mind like Diamond did, I was in real trouble.
“Famine. Uh … hi. Look, this is a mistake.” I backed off, feeling behind me for safety, but now where the wall had loomed dense and unbreakable, there floated only empty space.
Famine swooped beside me, a white blur. “No mistake, Ember.”
His sick oceansalt scent coated my mouth. He knew my name. Knew I was coming for him. I tried to flap away, jittering. “Get away from me!”
But he was too fast. Like a striking snake, he grabbed my hair. Strands snagged in his bonebare knuckles. He dragged my head down until I gazed into his strange red eyes. I struggled, clawing at his flaking chest.
But his gaze drilled my eyeballs, boring deep into my skull, and my will melted like steam on the wind.
I gibbered, flailing for sharp defiant words, but my brain fuzzed over with welcome warmth like hot chocolate sprinkles, and a silly smile painted my lips. He was nice. I liked him. He was my friend.
Fear hammered inside my heart, yelling and banging its fists like a caged beast, but the noise was distant, echoing, not something I had to pay attention to. My belly warmed, the ache in my bitten thigh fading with a tingling caress of Famine-scented air. He smelled like the sea, stormy and fresh and delicious. Slow delight sparkled my blood like summer rain, and pleasure eased into my body until I murmured happily. I didn’t want to escape. I just wanted to gaze into his lovely albino eyes and feel like this all night.
Famine released me, stroking my hair with one bony claw. He was so pretty, such delicate pale skin, such rich ruby eyes. I rubbed my cheek in his crisp white hair, and he smiled, so gentle, I ached. His whisper stroked my skin, relaxing. “Better. Step backwards.”
Alarm sparked my nerves, but my legs were already moving, eager to please him. He slipped something warm and soothing around my left forearm, then my right, and I smiled and wriggled against it, enjoying the smooth sensation. I felt warm, safe, happy.
And then he broke his gaze, and my contentment shattered.
Black ice crystals tinkled to the floor, the residue of vile fairy spellcraft. I jerked away, but hot metal yanked my wrists, dragging my arms above my head and wrenching my shoulders back. Wildly, I swung my head around, trying to see, and my bones spiked cold.
Iron strips shackled my wrists tight, and fat chains gleamed taut, binding me to an unseen ceiling. Something hard banged against my legs, and I looked down. More shackles gripped my booted ankles, locked to the floor with wire, holding me fast. The chains crunched and yanked tighter. Dragging me to my tiptoes. Stretching me.
My shoulder tendons shrieked. My feet clattered on the floor, scrabbling for a hold, the bricks just half an inch too far away for comfort. I couldn’t kick. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t get free.
My bowels watered, and I rattled my chains, terrified. “Let me go, you sick freak!”
Famine laughed, his dry lungs hacking.
Shit. I swiveled my eyeballs, frantic, hunting for weapons, blades, whips, and spikes and other nasty toys. In my strange pink-tinted vision, outlines of people still shimmered through the walls, and with bile lurching sick in my throat, I understood what my addled brain hadn’t made sense of before.
