Cursed-epub (14 page)

As she huddled in the hot sand, his roar washed over her. It hid words for her ears alone.
I have missed you, my daughter. Welcome home. I give you my gifts for the fight ahead. Use them well. You're my tool for answering the prayers of many wounded hearts.

For a long moment she floated in a soft golden mist, wrapped in arms so vast she knew nothing would ever harm her here. Slowly, the mist faded, and she realized the golden light was the sun shining through her eyelids. Sean's strong arms held her close as his voice rumbled against her ear. “Give her a minute, she's all right. She's communing with her god.”

Opening her eyes, she turned her head and smiled. The women around her gasped quietly, and one began to cry in choked sobs. She could still feel his blessing within her, and she knew what she had to do here before they left. Gently, she pulled herself out of Sean's arms. He gave her a brilliant smile and said softly, “You glow with his grace.”

She felt a deep peace settle over her. She turned to the crowd and sought out the hearts calling to her. They needed his blessing, but they were lost and couldn't find it without her. Touching arms and shoulders as she passed, she came to stand before a middle-aged woman with tears streaming down her cheeks.

She gently took the woman's face in her hands and placed a kiss on her forehead. A bright spark of magic moved from her lips to the woman, and she knew the right words to say. With a soft whisper into her ear, she said, “The death of your baby wasn't your fault, Saria. Forgive yourself, and there will be children in your future.”

The woman gasped and squeezed her hand, but she was already moving away.

“What is going on?” Mrs. Amável asked in a hushed whisper.

“She's god-touched,” Kell rumbled. “She's filled with Bes's blessing and is doing his work on Earth.”

Carmella stopped in front of another woman who wrung her fingers so hard she was leaving scratches on the backs of her hands. Very young and wearing a hot-pink dress that showed more than it concealed, her heavy makeup streaked down her face as she cried. She watched Carmella approach with wide, desperate eyes.

The tone of her voice was one of infinite peace and kindness. “Your father misses you, Veviri. Go home to him. Your childhood sweetheart, Jose, is waiting for you.” The woman began to protest, and Carmella laid a gentle hand over her lips. “Do not let excuses and shame shackle you here to men who abuse you. Go home and let yourself be loved.”

Gliding across the hot concrete, she came to a stop before Sean and Kell. The sense of peace vanished from her soul, righteous fury taking its place. “Let's go get our people,” she said quietly, and all who heard her voice trembled.

Sean fended off Gabriel's sloppy kisses. “Carmella, Dianta said you would know where they are.”

Carmella frowned and looked toward the street. “I know what it looks like. It's a club with two giant dice done in white neon out front. I think it's a private club. The door had no handle on the outside.” Bitter, frightening memories assailed her mind, leaving her sickened inside as she realized how long the succubus had been using her. “I've had nightmares about this place for months. I never imagined it actually existed, but that's where Bes says they are.”

Sean swore softly. “It could take us days to find it. We don't have that kind of time.” He turned to Kell. “Who can we contact locally who—”

“Excuse me,” a sweet voice mumbled hesitantly.

Carmella glanced over at one of the prostitutes who lived in the building. She wore a pair of dirty cut-off sweats and an old T-shirt. Thin to the point of looking ill, she scratched at the track marks on her arms. “I wasn't eavesdropping, but I know the club you're talking about.”

They all turned to look at her, and the woman clasped her hands nervously in front of them. Speaking to the ground, she said, “It's an S&M club. One of my…dates likes to go there. I don't do anything, but he pays me to watch him get whipped. It's on Riachuelo Street across from the Academia Santana. Go down the alley on the left between the cobblers and the bookstore. The entrance is hidden behind some dumpsters. It's hard to see from the street.”

“I know where that is.” Carmella pulled her tank top back on. “We can be there in fifteen minutes.” She took the woman's hand in her own, and Bes's blessing warmed within her again. “Thank you, little one. You are stronger and kinder than you know. If you will allow me, I would like to give you a gift.”

“It's okay.” The woman tried to pull her hand away as shame filled her eyes. “Watching you dance made me feel better than I have in a long, long time.”

Carmella smiled and gently cupped her face. “Close your eyes.” Softly, she placed a kiss on the woman's lips, once again that bright spark of magic flared between them as Bes’s blessing was given to the woman.

Carmella pulled back, and the woman shuddered and clutched her stomach. Sean and Kell were about to go to her when she looked up, tears running down her face. “The craving, it's gone. I've been addicted to heroin for over four years now, but the craving, that demon of addiction, it's gone.”

The gate chinked open as Carmella called over her shoulder, “Mrs. Amável, if I don't come back, please give my apartment to someone who needs it.”

Mrs. Amável raised her hand in acknowledgment, her arms around the prostitute as she wept.

****

They stood in front of the black-painted door, the twist in Carmella's stomach confirming this was the right club.

“This place is nasty.” Kell hitched the gun belt around his thick waist and spat over his shoulder. The smell of hot garbage filled the air, and a thick black liquid seeped from one of the containers.

Kell and Sean stood armed and ready, but she had no experience with guns. Instead, she had a long, curved knife in a brown leather sheath clipped to her shorts. If worse came to worst, she could pull the blade and not have to worry about a safety lock. Sean had his sword sheathed around his back and the small silver flute in his front pocket.

Kell pulled his fingers through his beard. “How many people are inside, Sean?”

“I don't know. Someone has a shield on the club, and it's strong. Every once in a while I get a hint of a bad psychic smell, so I think there is a Destruction Chosen inside.”

“Oh, for the love of the gods. This just gets better and better.” Kell groaned and nervously ran a thumb over the hammer of the pistol on his belt.

She remained silent, their words a distant sound; her mind was focused on other things. A breath of hot desert air blew over her, clearing away the muggy stink of the garbage bins. She looked at the door and
knew
how to get inside. It wasn't as though Bes had whispered in her ear. Instead, she had the strategic mindset of a seasoned warrior. Looking around the alley she found herself analyzing every inch of the club, knowing where she should go if they were attacked for the best chance at defense and cataloging the items around them that could be used as weapons. Her mind raced through different fight scenarios, providing her with information so fast that she could barely process it. At first it was scary, but slowly she realized she was still herself. It wasn’t like when the succubus took her over. She was still Carmella, just—more.

“Sean, you need to play the door down. Like that story in the Bible about the trumpet taking down the walls of the city,” she said in a quiet voice, scanning the bricks around the door. Traffic passed occasionally at the end of the alley, but the view was obstructed by a series of large dumpsters.

Kell gaped at her, but Sean gave her a proud smile, and she grinned back at him. “It would be my pleasure to play for you.”

She blew him a kiss and stepped back, unsure how exactly the door would come down. If it was going to explode, she wanted to be out of the line of fire.

Licking his lips, Sean focused on the door and began to play a fierce tune on the flute. The frame around the door and then the metal vibrated. Kell and Carmella exchanged a wide-eyed glance and watched as the door began to melt. The door and frame deconstructed itself into a pile of metal shavings and black paint chips.

The sunlight shining through revealed a typical set of tacky red barstools, black tile floors, and a small hostess stand. No monsters of darkness like in her dreams. Kell took out his boot knife and chipped out human teeth from the inside of the doorframe. One had a filling in it and another looked too small to belong to an adult. Kell kicked the teeth into the pile of shaved metal. “The wardings are down. Gods of Creation, help the poor souls who died to make it.”

Carmella started to walk into the club, but Sean laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me go first, my harmony,” he said in a gentle voice, his gaze already on the entrance.

She tilted her head and examined his profile. “Okay, but you have to tell me what this harmony thing is about when we get out of here.”

Sean gave her a roguish smile that made her toes curl. “We have many things to discuss once we get out of here.”

Her heart skipped a beat and then sped a rapid pace as she read the emotion in his eyes. With her heightened senses, she could feel his love for her. It was as warm as the spring sun on her skin.

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, Sean stepped through the door. Kell covered his back in a shooter’s stance, and she toyed with the hilt of her knife as she followed the men inside.

Searching the wall next to the door, she flicked a switch, and the lights came on. Something smelled bad in here, not just the usual spilled beer and cheap perfume smell of a bar, but something rotten.

“Gah, what's that?” Kell murmured.

Sean took a slow breath and grimaced. “Smells like death and suffering.”

“Great,” she muttered as they moved farther into the room, following the curve of the metal and glass bar. Shackles and chains hung from thick black rods crisscrossing the ceiling. There were wood- and leather-covered devices propped against the wall that she couldn't even imagine a use for. A set of stocks like something from a medieval movie set stood on a small raised stage. Instead of wood, they were made out of thick, clear plastic and stood illuminated beneath a soft spotlight.

The closer they came to a stairway leading to the lower level, the heavier the rot in the air became. It reminded her of a package of hamburger that had been left in the fridge too long. On either side of the stairs stood long display cases lit like a jewelry store. Instead of diamonds and pearls, the velvet beds held ball gags, hoods, cuffs, whips, and the largest assortment of sex toys she had ever seen.

“Remind me to grab something for the wife before we leave.” Kell gave a nervous laugh and examined an assortment of latex dildos shaped like fists and feet.

They ignored him and stared at the entrance to the stairs. The walls here were painted a shiny black, and metal-framed photographs of black-and-white bondage scenes led the way down. At the base of the stairs were bathrooms and an open doorway leading to the left.

“Let me guess. We get to go down the dark, creepy stairs and into the dark, creepy basement?” She tried to breathe through her mouth and inched closer to Sean.

Sean nodded and held his hand to his lips. “At least three people down there. It's still hard to tell. Something is blocking me.”

They slowly made their way down the stairs, every creak and groan of the wood making her tension wind tighter until her shoulders were rigid and her back ramrod straight. The lights were on down here as well, and from behind the closed white door down the hall to the left came the sound of muffled music.

Kell raised his gun and pointed it to the door at the end of the hall. “What's the plan, boss?” he said in a quiet voice.

The hair on her arms stood up. An electrical current moved through the air and brought with it the smell of a deep forest. Taking a deep breath, she tracked the source of the smell to Sean who currently had his eyes closed while his lips moved as they formed exotic words in a language she couldn't place. She went to touch his arm, but Kell grabbed her hand and stopped her.

Kell pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Sean is talking to his god Maponus. When a god is talking to someone, it's a good idea not to interrupt.”

After a moment, Sean opened his eyes and gazed at them. A hint of golden lighting flickered through his eyes, and she gasped. “We are to go into the room and let Carmella do her thing.”

Silence met his statement. “My thing?” she squeaked out. “What the hell is my thing?”

Sean shrugged and unsheathed his blade. “I don't know. I asked Maponus, and he said Bes had it under control.”

“Fantastic,” she whispered as she unsheathed the dagger from her waist. The hilt felt right in her hand, and she twirled the blade in the light, enjoying the weight of it against her palm.

With a nod from Kell, they moved down the hall to stand before the white door. No magical booby traps turned them into frogs. To her, it looked like an ordinary door, one that would be found in any home. The normalcy of it made it seem even more out of place in the S&M club setting.

Sean took a deep breath and nudged the door open with his foot. It took her a moment to process the scene inside of the room. Her mind wanted to reject it as fake, something from a cheesy horror movie with a low budget but a lot of fake blood. A weird song played from speakers somewhere in the room. The foul and grating language rang unfamiliar in her ears, and it made her head throb.

Dianta and Branco lounged on two red velvet chairs placed on a dais and presided over the room. Dianta wore a chain and leather outfit that looked like the costume from some cheap porno while Branco reclined in his usual dark suit. Grisly remains of people in various states of decay hung from the walls. She was able to piece together at least six bodies before she stopped counting. More bodies decomposed in a pile in the far corner of the room, tossed aside like garbage, a tangle of limbs and hair.

Next to Dianta, Tian hung suspended from a large wooden X, his hands and feet secured to the beams by shackles. His head drooped to the side, and his back had been whipped to the muscle in some places. Breath still moved through his lungs, but it was shallow and uneven.