Hell Inc. (13 page)

“Damn,
Andrew, you still have the senses of a human. The rest of us could
smell that blood the moment we pulled up.” The driver laughed
at his own quip. Andrew frowned and sucked the blood from his middle
finger.

“I
was only turned two weeks ago, Larry. You don't have to be so
fucking rude.” I took the arm he'd let go of and attempted to
punch him in the face. He grabbed my hand in mid air, as I was
expecting, and I took the brief distraction as an opportunity to knee
him hard in the balls. Andrew released my other arm as he doubled
over in pain.

I
took off at a run though I wasn't expecting to get away. Not with so
many supernaturals loaded into that van, but I was hoping that if I
distracted them long enough, someone would come to my rescue.
Unfortunately, my distraction was cut short as I tripped over a crack
in the sidewalk and slammed into the pavement hard enough to jar all
of my bones and scrape my hands raw. A boot to my side knocked the
air out of me and made the pain in my back even more severe. Rough
hands jerked me up, and Andrew's nasally voice was suddenly in my
ear.

“You're
going to fucking pay for that, you stupid bitch.” He shook me
violently, and I was afraid of what was coming next.

“Don't
you hit her again, Andrew, or you're going to be answering to Liam
when we get back. I told you, she's mine,” Andrea snapped
though she didn't lift a finger to help me. And who the hell was
Liam? Was Andrea referring to a drug lord ... or something else?
I did not want to find out.
Levie,
I thought frantically.
Where the hell are you? It's your job to protect me!
I
couldn't fight, couldn't even wish my way out of the situation
because of the gag.

Andrew
scowled down at me, punched me in the sternum (which
hurts
),
and knocked me out cold. Well now, everything was turning out to be
just dandy. What better way to spend a night than with vampire drug
addicts and your very own sociopathic mother?

I
remembered nothing about the van ride except for the smell of hay.
Call me racist if you want, but the Minotaurs stank like cow manure
and old socks. I decided that they were way less scary than the
vampires although I bet those horns would hurt if they ever decided
to level them on me. I woke slowly, painfully, as my stomach cried
uncle and threatened me with nausea. Sounds were leaking under the
door: people talking, laughing, cups clinking, doors slamming. It
was all very normal but kind of creepy. I'd been kidnapped. By my
mom. Never saw that one coming.

I
was lying on a rather uncomfortable bed that smelt as if it hadn't
been washed in a while. I wriggled around, trying to move my face
away from a very suspicious white stain that I'm pretty was something
I'd seen on CSI. Bile rose in my throat, and I tried to cough,
choking on the gag instead. It was soaked in my saliva and sat as a
heavy, wet mass on my tongue. As the hellacious nature of my
situation finally sunk in, tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I
blinked them away. There was no time for crying now. What I needed
to do was figure my way out of this mess.

My
hands were bound tightly behind my back with the same type of rope
that was tied around my ankles. My fingers and toes were numb,
twinging with needles as I tried to adjust myself into some semblance
of a comfortable position. I wondered if Andrea would cut me free if
she knew how much pain I was in. She'd said nice things but so far,
she'd just done horrible ones. I tried not to expect much, hoped for
it, but didn't expect it. The crazed look in her eyes was proof that
she'd gone off the deep end. Her new found love for me seemed rather
perverse in nature.

Frankly,
I was kind of embarrassed with myself. I'd let myself get kidnapped.
By a bunch of drug addicts in a black van. How cliché was
all of this supposed to get? And who was going to help me now? How
long would it take that stupid secretary demon to come looking for
me? I hadn't known Levie long enough to expect him to rush out to
find me for friendship's sake, but it was his damn job. Apparently,
he was as terrible a bodyguard as he was an
administrative
assistant
.

The
sound of the door opening ripped me away from my thoughts. I turned
my head to watch my mother and her on-again, off-again, drug addict
boyfriend/pimp (I couldn't remember his name for the life of me) walk
in. She sauntered over to the bed and sat down next to me, lightly
brushing the hair from my forehead. I jerked my head away from her,
and her motherly mask melted into fury. She grasped my face with her
hand, her long nails digging into the flesh of my cheeks.

“Don't
you turn away from me,” she snarled and then slapped me
lightly. “I am your mother. You will look at me.” Her
face softened again and she sighed. “I love you so much,
Ginger. I won't let anyone come between us ever again.” I
stared at her, terror lacing my breast, as I had Joan Crawford,
Mommie Dearest
flashbacks. She pulled my head onto her lap
and began stroking my hair. Mr. No Name, who had been leaning
against the door, coughed and put out his cigarette on a nearby
chair. The fabric sizzled and smoked, making my eyes water.

“What
the fuck, Andrea? I don't have time to sit here and listen to you
rattle off all this crap about your fucking daughter. If you want to
sit here and talk all goddamn night, that's fine with me, but I ain't
gonna sit here and listen.” Andrea didn't answer and the jerk,
apparently fed up, wrenched the door open and left. I was happy to
see him go. He stunk to high hell and was in desperate need of a
shower and some deodorant. Andrea continued to stare down at me
lovingly. I had a fleeting feeling of sympathy for Erin. This wish
was based on
her
mother after all. Yikes.

“Don't
worry about him,” she cooed. “Mommy doesn't need a man in
her life anymore. All that's important to me now is you.” The
whole 'no wishing for people to fall in love' rule was really
starting to make sense to me. I wasn't sure what she was planning to
do with me, but I was pretty darn sure that I didn't want to stick
around and find out. Andrea moved me off her lap and stood up. “I'm
going to go and get Nathaniel,” she said, patting me lightly on
the thigh. “After I told him about your little demon friend,
he's been so eager to meet you. You just wait right here, and once
we've got business out of the way, we can work on our relationship.”

I
could have sworn that my heart stopped for at least a full sixty
seconds while my brain struggled to process what I had just heard.
Demon friend? My head spun again, and I resisted the comforting
blackness that was beckoning to me. Who was she talking about?
Levie? If so, that meant that not only had she been
stalking
me,
but she'd also been able to recognize what he was. My special talent
apparently ran in the family.

Thanks
for sharing that with me, Mom,
I thought at her as she blew me a
kiss and exited the room with a skip and a hop that made my teeth
hurt. I suppose I hadn't exactly shared my talents with her either,
but then again, she had abandoned me as a child. And now I knew why,
or at least suspected. I had thought about drugs before. It had
been a brief thought, brought on by misery and loneliness, but I'd
fought through it. She never had. I guess that explained why she
was hanging out with supernaturals. Still, maybe I was jumping the
gun. It was very possible that she was just high and delusional.
When I was six, she told me the sky was falling and the world was
about to end. I didn't sleep for a week.

I
wanted to cry or throw something, neither of which was a very viable
option to me, so I waited until I was certain she wouldn't hear me
moving around. I could run over this information in my head as much
as I wanted as soon as I was out of here. I rolled off of the bed
and onto the floor. The fall wasn't far but the impact hurt like
hell. The injuries in my back and ribs saw to that. With some
struggling and careful maneuvering, I was able to get myself into a
seated position. I figured the best place to start looking for a
knife or something else to cut my way out of these ropes would be the
nightstand drawer.
Clever Ginger, now, your only problem is
figuring out how to get the drawer open.
Unfortunately, I didn't
get the chance to even try.

The
man who entered the room was, to put it nicely, geriatric. The skin
on his face hung like wet laundry, and his elbows and knees were bony
and crooked. But his eyes were strong and so was his magic. It
swarmed into the room like a dust storm. Tempestuous and angry, it
swirled around me and gave me goose bumps. He was a vampire. A
very, very old vampire. Despite the rumors, they do age, just
slowly. Oh yeah, and they're immortal. Sounds kind of shitty to me,
but hey, to each their own.

Andrea
followed him into the room with a ... wheelchair and stood
sniveling in the corner next to the burnt chair. Behind her, a
gaggle of younger vampires followed, Minotaur goonies in tow. It was
kind of funny in an I-could-die-at-any-moment sort of a way. No
matter how lame the bad guys are, they can still kill you.

The
man sniffed the air like a dog, his bulbous nose twitching. Then he
wrinkled his face in disgust. So I'd been to yoga, so what. I'd
worn deodorant (unlike my mom's boyfriend). I didn't smell that bad.

“Why
– ” he began, pausing to cough. “Did you find it
prudent to drag a demon back to our factory?” He turned and
faced my mother, causing his henchmen to tremble in fear. For an old
guy, he was pretty scary. Magic doesn't take strong bones, just a
keen intellect and some power. You either were born with it or you
weren't. Old Dude had been born with a shitload.

“I
– I – ” Andrea struggled to find words. I didn't
blame her. She'd spent most of her life on coke. It was hard to
remain literate after that. “This is my daughter, Ginger. She
isn't a demon, but she's been mating with one.” Old Dude turned
back to me with a raised eyebrow. So my mother did see
supernaturals. And she'd stalked me. And she'd said mating. I
struggled in protest.

“Nathaniel,
I need your help.” A man in a glittering red top (think
Dorothy's shoes in
The Wizard of Oz
) stormed into the room and
stared at me with greasy brown eyes. He had a crooked lip with a
really bad goatee. Plus, he was wearing cologne. Typical vampire.
“I can't get the fax machine to work. Can we please just get a
computer? I think it's hurting the business.” He cocked his
head to the side and waited while Nathaniel coughed again.

“I'm
busy Liam, can't you see I'm working here?” Liam didn't look
bothered by that fact at all. Instead, he strolled right up to the
bed and took my face in his hands.

“So
pretty,” he breathed, and I swear, I almost threw up. His
breath was worse than the Cyclops' I'd met at Target. It was like
rotten cheese and burnt rubber. “New client?”
Client?
I wondered furiously.
I'm bound and gagged. Do I look like a
client?

He
locked his eyes on mine, and for a moment, they were beautiful,
bright and velvety, rich, sensual. Power rolled over me, heady and
alluring, begging me to come inside. Then all of a sudden, it
stopped. His eyes were back to dirty brown. The new guy blinked
furiously and released me, taking a step back and nearly bowling over
the elderly Nathaniel.

“What
on earth – ” Nathaniel cut him off.

“Andrea,”
he cast a glance over his shoulder. “Brought this girl here.
You're responsible for her behavior, Liam. Take care of this fiasco.
And find out what the demon wants.” And then he turned around
and hobbled out of the room. One of the backup vampires took the
wheelchair from my mother and followed him. The Minotaurs stayed,
fanning out around the doorframe menacingly. Honestly, it was pretty
scary.

Andrea
was shaking terribly now, like she was in the throes of a fever. Her
eyes were wide and looked just about ready to explode from her head.

“This
girl's magic smells like demon,” Liam growled vehemently,
turning to Andrea and grasping her by the throat. He walked her back
and slammed her into the wall, dislodging a painting of a yellow
cottage. “Business is business, I suppose, so I can't fault
your tenacity.” Then he squeezed. Did I mention that some of
the rumors are true? Vampires really do have supernatural strength.
“The routine was cute, Andrea, but this time, you've just cost
yourself a job.” My mother struggled, kicking her legs
furiously while I screamed behind a wet gag and watched in terrible
slow motion as her throat was crushed.