Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (28 page)

BOOK: Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7)
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"Is this a real person?" he asked.
 
"Or just something from your head?"

"Oh, he's real, definitely," Zoey said, feeling the anger build inside all over again.
 
She thought drawing him would help with closure, but it wasn't working.
 
"We can just call him the one that got away."

"Ah, an old boyfriend?"

"Something like that."

"And you're looking for him?
 
Hmm…."
 
He talked to himself for a moment.
 
"That potion only works on pictures.
 
But this drawing, it's so
real
.
 
And usually it's the
emotion
behind the picture that makes the potion work."

"What are you talking about?"

He grabbed her phone and held it up, along with the sketchpad.

"Is it okay if I try something?"

Zoey didn't know what to say, so she only shrugged and nodded.

Kevin spent the next several minutes looking like he was preparing a meal.
 
He started a pot of water on the stove for a boil.
 
Moving from cabinet to cabinet, he grabbed different herbs and spices.
 
Garlic, sugar, pepper, parsley, a sliver of an orange.
 
He also grabbed a tiny jar from the safe.

"This stuff is rare," he said.
 
"I hope this works."

She didn't want to know what it was.

He continued to dance in the kitchen, almost reminding her of a chef on TV.
 
The water finally came to a boil, and he dumped the odd collection he'd gathered into the pot.
 
He pulled out a baking sheet and set it on the stove.

Zoey wasn't prepared for the next step in whatever ritual he was performing.

Kevin tore the portrait out of the sketchpad.

She covered her mouth in horror.
 
She'd been working on the portrait since the day after the attack.
 
It helped her stay sane during those long hours in the basement.
 
It helped her heal.
 
She wasn't finished, and she
never
removed a drawing from the sketchpad until it was done.

He set the portrait in the baking sheet, with her phone on top.
 
Before she could even ponder what was going on, he poured the boiling mixture into the baking sheet, just enough to cover.

Her phone and portrait were sitting in strange goop.

"What the hell are you doing?" she finally said.
 
"What is the matter with you?"

He didn't answer.
 
He simply reached out for the baking sheet.

"Don't!
 
That's boiling water!"

Kevin wasn't deterred.
 
He set his hand on top of the portrait, into the steaming water.
 
It didn't bother him in the least.

The water began to sparkle, like it contained glitter.
 
The smartphone came to life.

"Wow, neat," Kevin said.
 
"I think it worked."

"What?" Zoey said.
 
"
What
worked?"

He grabbed the smartphone and glanced at the screen.
 
Water still dripped onto the baking sheet.
 
She was surprised it even turned on.
 
Smiling, he turned the screen toward her to show what resembled a Google map of the United States.

"There he is.
 
Looks like somewhere in Illinois?"

She took the phone.
 
Coherent thought struggled to form in her mind.
 
A red dot blinked in the state of Illinois.
 
She touched the screen, pressing the home button, but nothing happened.
 
The dot continued to glow.

"Damn, sorry," Kevin said, frowning.
 
"I should have thought about that some more.
 
Your phone, it's kind of…broke."

"What?"

"That's all it will do now.
 
If you get closer to that dot, it will zoom in.
 
It's a pretty cool little tracking potion.
 
I thought it only worked on real pictures.
 
But I guess not.
 
After a few days, though, the phone will die, and won't come on again.
 
Maybe I should have used a cheap Kindle or something."

"A few days?
 
How many?"

"Uh, three or four?
 
I don't really know."

Emotions pushed any attempt at thought aside.
 
Excitement.
 
Terror.
 
Awe.
 
Rage.

"You're telling me I can find him?" she asked, pointing at the portrait.
 
"I just have to go towards Illinois?"

"Yeah.
 
Cool, right?"

"Ohmygod," she said, pacing.
 
"Oh, shit!
 
This is real?
 
Does it run over 4G?"

To her, the question sounded ridiculous and brilliant at the same time.

Kevin laughed.
 
"No, not 4G.
 
Magic."

"Okay.
 
Illinois.
 
Can I fly there?
 
Can I drive?
 
Will Victoria help me?
 
I'm not sure she would, and I can't blame her.
 
Not for what I'm going to do.
 
I should do this by myself.
 
I'll drive.
 
Not safe to fly, not with the sun.
 
She told me that."

"Whoa, whoa," Kevin said.
 
"What are you saying?"

"Even if Victoria drove with me," she continued.
 
"We'd still have to hide during the day.
 
Driving time really is cut in half."

He nodded slowly in thought.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so.
 
I couldn't put a daylight potion together in just a few days.
 
Not easy-to-get stuff in that one."

"Wait," Zoey said, grabbing his shoulder.
 
"What did you just say?
 
A daylight potion?"

Kevin's eyes went wide as his expression froze.

"You…don't know?
 
About Victoria?"

"No.
 
What do you mean?"

He said nothing for nearly thirty seconds before plastering a fake smile on his face.
 
He pulled a small vial out of his front pocket with a brownish liquid inside.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," he said.
 
"Good luck with finding your boyfriend."

"Are you serious?
 
You're leaving now?
 
Tell me about Victoria."

"I can't.
 
I'm not even supposed to be here.
 
My girlfriend's waiting for me back at her apartment."

Zoey frowned when he popped the cork on the vial and capped it with his index finger.
 
He traced the outline of a large circle on the kitchen wall, leaving behind a brownish trail.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Tell Victoria I'll call her," he said, ignoring everything she said.
 
He pulled a picture of what looked like a bedroom wall out of his back pocket.

She grabbed his wrist and held tight.

"Tell me," she said.
 
"Or I'll break your arm again."

"No you won't," he said, smiling.
 
"You really didn't mean to the first time.
 
And you're a nice person."

He saw right through her and her empty threat.
 
Desperate, she grabbed the picture from his hand with blinding speed.
 
She took a step back and held it up.
 
She had no idea what its purpose was, but Kevin no longer smiled.
 
Panic took hold as he stepped toward her.

"Give that back!
 
I only brought one, and Victoria's printer is broken."

"No.
 
Not until you tell me about this daylight potion."

"Zoey, c'mon.
 
Stop it."

The two engaged in one of oldest games alive.
 
A game of keep-away.
 
She felt like she was five years old all over again.
 
Kevin reached for the photo, only for Zoey to switch hands behind her back.
 
She easily held him back with her strength, a strange feeling, considering he was bigger.

Kevin was a gentleman, and also shy.
 
He refused to grab or try to manhandle her.
 
The boys in her school would have taken the opportunity to touch and flirt.
 
He simply wanted his picture.

"I need that!" Kevin said.
 
"I have to leave!"

She was confused as to what the picture had to do with him leaving, but that was a question for another time.
 
She held the photo in both hands between her fingers, threating to tear it in half.

"No!" he said, reaching out.
 
"Okay, stop."

"Start talking."
 
She waved it back and forth.
 
"And I'll give this back."

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

"You'd better sit down."

CHAPTER 10

Victoria wasn't sure what she expected, but the parking lot at Tony's club was exactly like it should have been on a weeknight.
 
There were a decent amount of cars, and a couple walking hand-in-hand approached Dave, who watched the front door as always.
 
With the window rolled down she could hear their conversation.
 
Dave gave them the simple rules of behaving themselves and tipping if they were having a good time.
 
The couple then pushed the conversation into the possibility of a threesome, which Dave politely declined.

"I love strip clubs," Jack said as they parked.
 
"Broken dreams, disappointed fathers, breasts everywhere, alcohol, women playing
stick-it-in-quietly
in the back rooms for extra money.
 
You know the people that run these places have a fucked up dark side.
 
I wish I owned one."

"
I
own this place, or at least a part of it."

"I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my life."

"Shut up, Jack."

Dave let out a big grin as the pair approached.

"Victoria," he said.
 
"Good, good.
 
You're coming by more often."

"Hi, Dave."

She squeezed the air out of him, like she always did.
 
Dave laughed and turned serious when he looked at Jack.

"Is he with you?"

"Yeah."

"No hugs for me, Tarzan," Jack said.
 
"So keep your hands to yourself."

Victoria touched Dave's arm before Jack could create his typical tension.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah.
 
Why wouldn't it be?"

"Tony called.
 
It seemed pretty important on the phone.
 
He told me to rush down."

"It's been quiet out here," he said.
 
"I'm a little insulted.
 
If there's a security problem, he should be bugging me.
 
Not you.
 
But I haven't seen Tony all night.
 
You can go in there and look for him, if you want."

"Thanks, Dave."

Victoria and Jack stepped inside and saw more of the same.
 
Nothing was amiss.
 
Women dancing, mortals drinking, music, low light.

"Nice," Jack said approvingly.
 
He scanned the room.
 
"A good collection of ladies.
 
Different ethnicities, personality types, body types.
 
Look at that blonde in the middle, becoming one with the pole.
 
That's impressive.
 
She must have graduated with honors.
 
Good, good whores."

"Have some respect.
 
They're dancers, not whores."

"Not the Goth chick on the end.
 
She had sex ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago.
 
And call me jaded, but I doubt it was for free in the comfort of her own home."

Victoria found the woman Jack referred to.
 
Heavy, dark eye makeup and pale skin, wearing nothing but a spiked collar and wrist-straps.
 
A few tattoos and strategically-placed piercings completed her look.

"How can you tell?"

"Just the way she moves.
 
And the semen on her foot is a bit of a giveaway, too."

She shook her head in disgust, remembering the incident in the private booth during her last visit.
 
"Goddamnit, Tony."

"Ah, what a crime."

"What now?"

"Check out the bartender.
 
She's got the best body in here, and she's slinging drinks.
 
Not a single bionic in her.
 
She'd be handing out heart attacks if she spun on a pole.
 
You wouldn't think politics would exist inside a strip club, but there's your proof."

Jack was referring to Bree, the bartender Victoria bonded with before.
 
Bree was as friendly as ever, laughing and talking with the customers, hiding whatever insecurities she had concerning the other dancers behind a smile.
 

Bree looked up and noticed Victoria.
 
Victoria took a step to approach, but stopped when Bree's expression changed from a smile to grim seriousness.
 
She waved frantically, and pointed to the office in the back.

"Let's go," Victoria said.

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