House of secrets, p.21
House of Secrets, page 21
Everything went black as the memory faded.
It took me a second to figure out what memory we were visiting next. The world lay cloaked in darkness and shadow. When the shadows receded, Andras sat at his dining room table, the room still in one piece, with his face in his hands.
“Andras? You did the right thing, Az,” Nadia was saying.
She sat across the table from him, stretching her neck from side to side and adjusting the strap of her white slip. Andras groaned, then dropped his hands from his face. He clasped them together under his chin and watched Nadia drink her coffee. She flipped her hair to one side and angled her head, offering a small warm smile.
“Az?” she said, again.
Andras simply raised his brows in answer.
“I don’t know if lying to her was the right thing to do,” Nadia said, “But I guess lying is better than endangering her kids. Her ex-husband, well…I honestly don’t care if Callum shows up to disembowel him. He sounds like an ass.”
Andras huffed a laugh.
Nadia tapped her long, claw-like fingernails against her mug, as if she were thinking of something more supportive to say.
This must have been what happened right after Andras texted me that he would be leaving. So this was moments before, oh…before Callum came here and destroyed everything, moments before Nadia and Andras were injured and kneeling in rubble.
“Look, you know how I feel about men running around making other people’s decisions for them,” Nadia went on. “It’s not okay. But in this case, it’s that, or she ends up torn to pieces. And he’d make it last, too, you know—”
“—I know. You’re right. But it doesn’t feel good.”
“We both know you can handle plenty of pain and somehow be mostly fine. So have all of the feelings you need to have and then—”
An explosive crash echoed from the second floor and reverberated across the hardwood. Nadia and Andras were on their feet, legs wide and ready to fight. They craned their necks towards the ceiling, listening and waiting. Then light footsteps sounded as something or someone made their way to the staircase. Nadia’s chin lifted, and she caught Andras's eye, motioning for him to scent the air and mouthing, “Callum.” Her canines were already elongated and ready to rip his throat out. Andras caught Callum’s scent and I could feel his eyes and gums tingling as his own fangs descended, his pupils widening into hateful blackness.
The footsteps paused at the top of the staircase, and then like lightning something smashed into Andras, sending his body back, back, back until his head cracked against drywall. The sound of bones crunching rang out, along with Nadia’s roar.
“Fuck!” Andras spat blood and got to his feet. He scanned the room. Nadia bared her teeth and jumped onto the table with catlike elegance. Callum came out of nowhere–a blur, an icy wind–and went for Nadia, but she was ready. With cat-like elegance, she backflipped off of the table, landing in a crouch. Callum appeared near the back wall, leaning against it like he had all the time in the world. He would have been handsome–olive skin, black hair, dark brown eyes–if it weren’t for the bitterness twisting his features into something hideous and cruel. The psychotic, dead eyes. He wore a black suit and a skull cap, like he’d based his look off of a British gangster film from fifty years ago. His arms were folded across his chest. He sneered at Andras.
“Callum,” Andras said, with an acidic bite. He took a step forward, “you look well.”
“Given the circumstances,” Callum spat. His accent was strange and old. He went on, “imagine waking up in a cement block like a bloody dinosaur and remembering that your partner and his pet put you there.”
“Darling,” Andras drawled, wiping dust from his arms, “let’s not forget that you tried to kill us first. Some would say you kind of deserved it.” Andras squared off his shoulders, chin high.
“Ah, there it is,” Callum sang, “the arrogant bastard I once loved.”
“Get on with it,” Andras ground out.
Callum laughed performatively, letting his head fall back ever so slightly, like he was trying out for the role of villain in a community theater production. Andras glanced at Nadia, a portrait of amusement, as she rested on the table with her arms crossed over her chest, legs crossed at the ankles, and the faintest hint of a smile on her dark rose lips.
“Are you…dramatizing your own brand of evil?” Nadia asked, disbelieving, “you don’t have to bloody exaggerate it. You are actually a fucking demon from hell, you narcissistic shitbag.”
Callum’s head whipped to Nadia. “Shut up, whore,” he spat. “You won’t be so clever after I rip your teeth out of your bloody head and make a fucking necklace out of them.”
“Oh, Callum, you say ‘whore’ like it’s a bad thing.” She shrugged, “I’m actually quite proud of my history. You, on the other hand,” her black eyes fixed on him, cold and damning, “are a spoiled prick. And that is fucking tragic, considering how bloody old you are. I mean who lives this long without stumbling into a bit of self-reflection?”
The muscles in Callum’s jaw flexed as he narrowed his darkening eyes on Nadia. The absolute hate that radiated from him seemed to seep into the space, eating up all of the light in the room, but Nadia didn’t seem to notice or care. She examined her nails and sighed. Callum cracked his neck from side to side. In a flash, he stood face to face with Nadia, their noses nearly touching. Yet she didn’t so much as move, didn’t so much as blink. Callum’s arm shot out, trying to grab Nadia by the throat, but she blocked it with her own arm and climbed him like a tree, positioning her legs around his neck and throwing her weight to the side, slamming his body to the ground. The entire house shook down to the foundation. She rolled away from him, hopped to her feet, and then sprinted for him, but Andras reached Callum first.
Andras's leg shot out, kicking Callum in the ribs and sending him smashing into the beautiful dining room table. Wood and debris exploded in all directions. Nadia was already there waiting when he landed, snatching him up by the hair and dragging him through the house.
“Remember this move, you son of a bitch?” she seethed in his ear.
Andras grabbed a broom from its place against the far wall and snapped it into two sharp stakes.
“Nadia!” he shouted, launching one of the stakes to her. She spun, catching it mid-air, careful to keep Callum’s midnight black hair in her fist, his back arched, and she slammed the stake down on the center of his chest. It missed by just a fraction when Callum yanked free seconds before the tip of the stake hit true. Nadia cursed. The stake tip scratched down Callum’s ribcage, ripping through his jacket and undershirt, leaving a faint blood-red line. Injured or not, Callum struck hard and fast before Nadia could react, grabbing her arm and bringing it down on his knee, cracking bone. Nadia shrieked. Then he smashed her cheek with a fist in a cobra-like strike. He snatched the stake from her loosened grip.
“Nooooo!” Andras roared, his fists clutched, as he began to move toward them.
Just before Andras reached them, Nadia managed to land a roundhouse kick to Callum’s jaw. He stumbled back, and Andras was upon him, thrusting the other stake into Callum’s back. A billowing howl escaped him as flesh tore, wood grazed bones, and blood sprayed. Callum stumbled and looked down at the splintered spear jutting out of the center of his chest. He turned to look at Andras, hurt flickering in his otherwise cold, empty eyes.
“I really didn’t think you had it in you to do it twice,” Callum gasped, reaching for the stake.
Andras relaxed his guard. Callum fell forward. Then, without warning, he whirled, headbutting Andras in the face, a horrible crunch sounded, and sent him sprawling back as blood gushed from his nose. Callum gripped the stake jutting out of his chest and growled as he ripped it free from his body, dark blood oozing from the wound and soaking his shirt. He tossed the blood-soaked and splintered stake at Andras's feet, baring his teeth. Even though I was looking out of Andras's eyes and I knew it was only a memory, I wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to claw and kick away from him. A low growl started in Andras’ chest as he looked up at his foe, his enemy, his former lover, and he shifted his weight to stand, but Callum whirled, nearly ripped the front door from the hinges, and disappeared into the night.
Andras dropped to his knees, cursing, “Fuck! Fuck!”
Nadia came to his side, crouching next to him and balancing on her heels. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “that couldn’t have been easy for you, love.”
“No, that’s not it,” Andras whispered. “I loved him once, but that feeling is long dead. I just…” He dragged his hands through his debris-flecked brown hair. “Fuck, we were so close to being rid of him. How did I bloody miss his heart? Now he’s out there, and we won’t be able to relax, and Danny won’t be safe until we—”
“Why am I not safe?”
A familiar voice, my voice, called from the doorway. Then shadows once again filled the room.
MEMORIZE THIS PICTURE IF YOU WANT TO LIVE
Once again, I found myself back in the foyer of Andras's home. Stepping back, I yanked my hand free from his, panting and clutching my chest. Nadia studied me quietly, trying to figure out, I supposed, how I felt about everything I’d seen, everything I’d learned. It was too much. It was way too much. Callum…Calum was a monster. I could feel myself cracking, shaking under the weight of it all.
“Danny,” Andras whispered, “I’m so sorry.” His sapphire eyes were heavy. “We’ll keep you and your family safe, I promise.”
“Family?” I asked, my voice hollow. My heart drummed harder and harder and harder. My mouth went ash dry. I wrapped my arms around my body as if trying to physically hold myself together.
Nadia sauntered over to me, as silent as the grave, barefoot and spackled blood and dust. She gently set a slender, crimson-crusted hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry, love,” Nadia said, “but we don’t have much time. I know you just saw quite a bit, but just in case, here we go: Andras's former lover is a psychotic prick who was a very powerful Roman lord. He threw a spoiled man tantrum a few centuries ago and murdered loads of people, then came after me and Andras. We subdued him, then buried his rotten, demon ass in cement, but he got out, and he’s here, in Denver, trying to kill us and anyone Andras has ever cared about. Since you showed up minutes after he left, he most likely saw you if he didn’t already have spies watching you. Unfortunately, that means you’re in a heap of trouble. But we are here and quite capable, and I assure you, we will keep your family safe.”
The room spun. I turned and puked my guts up all over Andras’s tiled entryway. His large, strong hand rubbed my back and held my hair as I heaved and heaved. Finally, I stopped, bracing my hands on my knees, my breath ragged and catching.
“I have kids, Andras,” I whispered, voice breaking.
Andras helped me stand, and Nadia handed me a small washrag that I used to wipe my face. Andras tucked a loose lock behind my ear and smiled at me warmly, then gestured for us to move away from the vomit pooling on the tile. I mindlessly followed, too afraid to feel embarrassed, to feel anything but terror.
“I know, Danny. I know. You have every right to hate me or be sick with worry, but we have to act fast. Listen carefully, I think I have a plan that will turn Callum’s usual tools against him. Like me, Callum gets glimpses here and there into the minds of others. They’re just random images most of the time, chaotic and jumbled. But if he doesn’t know that you know that about him, you can possibly use it to manipulate him into a trap.”
“Me? Why would I need to manipulate him? How?” I asked.
A scratching sound coming from the living room had me nearly jumping out of my skin. Andras and Nadia jerked toward the noise, and in a blur, they were gone, leaving me alone for what seemed like an eternity. I waited helplessly for everything to be okay, which took me back to high school–to the year Jess and I found our father on the floor of his office. We’d called 911 and then our mother, who’d already left for her afternoon tennis lesson. We stood outside of his office door, trembling, for what felt like forever while EMTs called out to each other in a language that we didn’t understand. Jess and I held hands until the office door opened, and our father was wheeled out on a gurney, a sheet covering his mutilated corpse. Our mother arrived just as they were putting his body in the ambulance, and we watched through tearful eyes as she embraced our father for the last time and wept. It was the only time we’d ever seen her cry, before that day or since.
Andras and Nadia suddenly appeared in front of me, startling me out of the memory.
“It was just a tree branch against a window,” Andras said, “but it’s not safe here. We don’t know when he’s going to come back. Probably sooner than later. You need to get your kids out of your house. Is there somewhere they can go for the weekend, with your ex-husband, maybe? Can you fake an illness to stay behind?”
An icy chill ran through me. I nodded robotically, my mind racing with where they could go and what I could say that that might be convincing. I took a deep breath and let it out in a shaking gust. I would not panic. I would not panic.
“Can I have a drink?” I asked.
“Yes,” Andras said. “Water?”
“Fuck no,” I scoffed, “Something much stronger.”
In the study, I sat in the leather chair, pulling my legs up into my chest, breathing in, out, and in, and out, trying my best to calm the voice in my head that told me to run, run, run. To my girls, to safety, to anywhere but here. Nadia eased herself onto the couch, glancing down with furrowed brows at the soft, pinkish lines all over her bare legs where deep cuts had been not so long ago. Her white slip, dirty, ripped, and blanketed in smears and splatters of blood, bunched at her hips. Andras perched on the armrest beside her, long legs crossed at the knee, hands woven together and resting on his thigh. She’d been plotting something with Andras when I’d come back from the bathroom, where I’d gone to splash ice-cold water on my face, but it had taken me a handful of minutes to calm down enough to think straight.
“What are we going to do?” I breathed, my voice shaky.
“Well,” Andras exhaled, rubbing his neck, “he’ll come for you tonight or tomorrow. Patience has never been one of his strong qualities; he won’t put it off for long. He’ll try to get into your house because it’s better than plucking you off of the street in public. Don’t ask him in, no matter what.”
“He can’t come in if I don’t invite him? Like…that’s a real thing?”
“No, he can’t,” Nadia answered flatly, sounding far away, ”and yes, it’s a real thing, although honestly, we aren’t certain why. We believe it has something to do with the balance of nature. If creatures as strong as us could just wander into anyone’s home, frankly, there wouldn’t be any humans left.” She wasn’t boasting or threatening, I realized, just stating a fact.
“How does it work?” I asked, confused, “ I didn’t invite you in, Andras, so how did you come in to help me when that man broke into my house?”
“You did. Remember the night we met in your front yard at the gate?” He smiled as if he were remembering it fondly, “you said that you needed to grab your lighter and invited me to follow you inside. The intent is enough. The invitation still holds.” He pressed his lips together for a beat, thinking about something, “Just make sure that you act like you don’t know who Callum is, and try not to think about anything at all,” he looked to Nadia, then back to me, “except for this. Memorize it, and then just hold the image in your mind.”
He held up his cell phone to show me the screen, a picture of a small cabin in the woods. A sign next to the front door, nailed above the mailbox, read, “Lakewood 7.”
“Imagine me and Nadia here,” Andras said.
“Why?” I asked, committing the photo to memory like he’d said.
“You’ll be pretending that you don’t know me or Nadia, but he’ll know otherwise.” Andras continued, “he’ll think you’re trying to protect us. So when he sees this cabin in your thoughts, he’ll immediately go there, and we will be waiting.”
I gripped my knees. “So the plan is…for me to wait around for him to try to kill me in my own house so that I can imagine some creepy cabin I’ve never been to, hoping that he will take the bait and zoom up after you?” I asked in disbelief.
Nadia smiled up at Andras. “She’s a total ballbuster,” she said, “and you’re right, I do like her.”
Andras shook his head as if this were hardly the time or place.
“I know him, Danny. And we trust that he’ll see it in your mind and come for us. The cabin is isolated, so we can get rid of him without being noticed by anyone who might call the police. We’ll have the advantage of having cased the area and the element of surprise. The hard part for you will be not thinking of anything else.”
I lowered my feet to the floor and tapped on my thighs with my fingers, 1-2-3-4-5, then 5-4-3-2-1. Everything sounded totally insane. How could this possibly work? I was a notoriously bad liar and always had been. My mind tended to race, which is why I spent so much time running, and breathing, and meditating, and…
My spine straightened as it hit me, and I smiled wickedly.
“You know what,” I chuckled. It might not be that impossible, after all. “I have ten meditation apps on my phone. I can concentrate on the pressure of my feet for a very long time if I have to.”
Andras stared at me for a moment as if I’d lost my mind, then threw back his head and laughed.
“Perfect!” he said.
Then the smile melted away, he gazed downward, and when his eyes flipped up to meet mine again, they were full of pain. His jaw tensed.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“You couldn’t have known,” I reassured him.
And that was the truth. It’s not like he could predict the future. Or at least, I didn’t think so.
“Whether or not I could have known, I am still sorry that this a burden you don’t deserve. I’m sorry for your fear, your worry, for all of it. I will do whatever I can to keep you safe, keep them safe, and to make sure nothing like this happens again.”
