Semblance (23 page)

I glanced around, wondering whose eyes were on me at this very second.

The silence and open space made me feel exposed and vulnerable and the thought of being under surveillance was giving me a panic attack. I was swimming in open waters with sharks circling all around me.

“Come on Calisto, get your damn mocha java latte already and let’s get out of here,” I muttered to myself.

I glanced at the digital clock in the Benz. She was gone for five minutes.

Suddenly my phone whistled at me and I saw that I had received a new text message from Shadow.

‘How were classes?’
It read.

‘Classes were good. I’m way behind. Just sitting in Calisto’s car right now, waiting for her to come out of the coffee shop.’

‘You’re alone?’

‘Yah.’

‘My sister always had poor judgment. I can’t believe she left you alone in the car just to get herself a coffee.’

‘Well it’s not like I’m a baby trapped in a hot car. I’m sure everything will be okay, especially with the number of eyes you have on me right now.’

‘Still, I told Calisto to pick you up and drive straight back to the estate. No pit stops whatsoever.’

‘You worry too much,’
I texted back, though in truth I was quite worried myself.
‘I’ll see you soon.’

‘I love you,’
he ended the conversation.

I glanced at the clock again and noticed that the exchange between Shadow and I had taken another seven minutes. Just how long did it take Calisto to get herself a cup of coffee?

I should have stayed in the car but I was growing impatient and decided to find out what was taking her so long.

As I pulled open the glass doors to the Velvet Beanery and glanced around the café, I noticed that Calisto was nowhere to be seen.

In fact, there was no one in the entire place, including the baristas that worked the coffee machines. A terrible feeling of dread took hold of me.

“Calisto, are you in here?” I cried out.

Dead silence.

Something was wrong. The right thing to have done was to run back to the car and call Shadow for help, but I wasn’t known for always doing the right thing.

Instead, I strolled up to the counter cautiously and took a peek over it.

Lying on the ground in a pool of blood, her throat slit from ear to ear, was the barista, her empty eyes wide with shock.

It seemed like everywhere I went, I was surrounded by bodies.

I screamed.

#

Chapter Twenty-Six

I fled back to the car. My mind was filled with horrid thoughts and my hands were shaking as I tried to dial Shadow’s number on my phone.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Aria?”

“Shadow,” I cried. “She’s fucking dead.”

“My sister?” He sounded panicked.

Aria, you stupid girl, gather yourself together before this conversation went off the rails for both of us.

“No, not your sister,” I said. “The woman working the counter inside the coffee shop is dead.”

“Where is Calisto?” he asked, noticeably concerned.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. She went into the café and never came out. I went in to look for her, and when I did, the place was empty…the woman working the counter was dead on the floor…dead…murdered…violently.”

There was a brief pause.

“Where are you?”

“The Velvet Beanery on Ninth and Front,” I practically shouted into the phone.

I needed to calm the fuck down so I could think with a level head.

“Are you in the car?”

“Yes. Calisto had the keys though.”

“Stay inside and keep the windows rolled up and the doors locked,” Shadow said. “I’ll make sure someone comes and gets you right away.”

“She took the convertible.”

“Fucking hell…” There was a quick pause before Shadow spoke again. “I want you to reach down under the passenger seat.”

I did as he instructed and my hands brushed against something cold and metallic.

“Do you have it?” Shadow asked.

It was attached to Velcro straps, which I undid blindly. The next thing I knew, I was holding a small firearm in my hands.

“I’m holding a gun,” I stated.

“Good. If any stranger comes up to you, I want you to shoot them in the head.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What if it’s some old woman, asking me to help her open a door or something?”

“Aria, I’m not joking,” Shadow said. “I need you to protect yourself.”

“Alright, in the head,” I agreed. “Fuck grandma.”

“I can’t even trust my own men anymore,” Shadow said. “I’m an hour out of town--too long for you to wait for me. I’m going to send Lincoln. I’ll have him over there as soon as possible.”

There was a long pause before Shadow finally added, “Stay safe.”

“I’ll try,” I replied.

The call ended, and I sat in the seat, my hand gripping the gun tightly. I was terrified and paranoid and having a weapon in my possession right now was the equivalency of giving a gun to a schizophrenic. I prayed that no one decided to get friendly because most likely; I was going to shoot them at ‘hello.’

The next ten minutes were pure agony and I eyed every person walking past the car suspiciously.

Finally, when I saw Lincoln pull up next to my vehicle, I was flooded with relief. I had never been so happy to see someone in my life.

“Get in,” Lincoln said, the tone in his voice a far departure from his usual cheery self. I leapt out of Calisto’s Benz and entered into Lincoln’s Porsche.

“Are you hurt?” he asked me, pulling out of the café and turning onto the main road.

I nodded. “Calisto’s gone.”

The look of concern on Lincoln’s face was unmistakable. He cared deeply for Calisto.

“We need to find her,” I said.

“I’m going to get you back to the estate,” he said. “Your safety is first priority.”

“She left the car and went into the café to get a coffee,” I explained, despite him not asking the burning question, “And when she didn’t come out, I went inside to check on her and she was gone. The barista was dead behind the counter, her throat slit.”

I could see anger flash across Lincoln’s face like a lightning bolt, and without any warning, he smashed his fist into the side of his car door.

“Damn it,” he cursed. “Fucking Lucien.”

“Do we know it’s him?”

“Who else would it be?” Lincoln stated. “That fucker has had it in for the Tremaine’s since day one. I swear, if he’s hurt Calisto in any way, I’m going to rip his intestines out from his asshole.”

The rest of the ride back to the estate was in complete silence.

#

I waited for Shadow at
the Tremaine estate and when he arrived, he was relieved to see me, crushing my body with an embrace that was reserved for distant star-crossed lovers.

It was nice to feel loved again.

After making sure I was okay, we went to his study, along with Lincoln, where I told them in detail of every action taken from the moment Calisto picked me up at the university to the point where Lincoln had saved me from potentially shooting someone in the face due to jittery nerves.

By the time I was done, I was exhausted and both Shadow and Lincoln left me alone to rest on the leather couch, where I fell into a comatose sleep in a matter of minutes.

When I awoke again, Lincoln was staring out the large bay windows, sipping on a drink, while Shadow sat in front of his large cherry wood desk, his fists clenched.

From the expression on his face, I knew there was bad news.

“How long was I out for?” I asked.

“About two hours,” Lincoln replied, staring into his glass.

“Is there any word on Calisto?”

Shadow shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I had a few of my guys investigate the café. They found five other bodies in the kitchen, their throats all cut.”

I swallowed hard.

“We’ll find her Shadow. I promise,” I tried to console him.

“Do you remember seeing anyone or anything that was out of place Aria?” Shadow asked; a hint of desperation in his tone.

I shook my head. “I was in the car the entire time. I couldn’t see anything. I’m so sorry Shadow, I know this is my fault,” I apologized.

“This isn’t on you,” he replied. “Calisto should have never gotten out of that car, though she’s not entirely to blame either. I was the one who sent her to pick you up.”

“The real bastard in all of this is Lucien,” Lincoln added, “That tea drinking, scone eating son-of-a-bitch.”

“Have your guys found anything?” Shadow asked.

Lincoln shook his head. “Lucien’s condo has been vacated,” he said, “And when I say vacated, I mean everything inside is gone. Not even a single speck of dust.”

“He’s had this all planned from the beginning,” Shadow said, rising from his seat. “I’ve always taken him too lightly.”

“I had him figured for a fool as well,” Lincoln said. “His yapping alone made him look as intimidating as a cocker spaniel.”

Shadow turned to me. “Aria, I want you to stay here for a while,” he said. “Lincoln and I are heading over to the condo Calisto owns on the waterfront. Maybe there’s something there that can help us.”

“I want to come with you guys,” I said.

Shadow shook his head. “You’ve been targeted,” he said. “Even allowing you to go to your classes was a bad decision on my part.”

“I feel safer with you Shadow,” I said. “I’m also not completely useless. I can help.”

The two looked at me, dead silent.

“Well?” I asked.

“She is a Crow killer,” Lincoln pointed out. “You have to give her credit for accomplishing that much, while others would have just soiled themselves before ending up six feet under.”

Shadow seemed in awe of me.

“You’re one of the most stubborn girls I’ve ever met,” he finally said.

“Would you rather me be the weak, helpless, and submissive girl?” I asked.

He shook his head, and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“Not a chance.”

#

Chapter Twenty-Seven

We pulled into the underground parking garage of Calisto’s condo in Shadow’s Aston Martin. There were five intimidating looking men standing by the entrance of the building, equipped with black body armor and heavy weapons. They reminded me of secret service agents, minus the black aviators and earpieces.

Before leaving his car, Shadow reached over me and opened up the glove box, removing a shiny, silver gun. He checked the clip and pushed it into the base of the gun, arming it for use.

“You think you’ll need that?” I asked.

Shadow made no reply.

The intimidating guards acknowledged us as we approached them. “We secured the entire building,” one of them said; a large brute with a shiny bald head.

“You guys did a search through Calisto’s condo?” Shadow asked.

The man nodded. “Only a quick search to ensure that it was safe and secure. Everything else remains untouched, as you requested. Just a warning, my guys saw some pretty strange stuff inside.”

“Strange?”

“Best you see for yourself.”

Shadow nodded. “If you see anything out of the ordinary, run the Detroit police protocol on it.”

“Right,” the guard replied. “Shoot first and then hide the body.”

As we entered into the elevator, I couldn’t help but ask, “Was he serious about the entire shoot first thing?”

“During times of war, better safe than sorry,” Lincoln replied.

When we arrived at the penthouse, there were two more guards waiting by the entrance to Calisto’s condo. He pushed open the door for us, allowing us to enter.

To say things looked “strange” was an understatement.

I felt I had just stepped onto the set of a satanic cult movie.

Melted flesh-colored candles littered the room, burned right down to the stub. The wax bubbled and dried around the edges, forming grotesque blob shapes.

At the centre of the condo was the statue of a nude man, its body desecrated in dried blood and thorns. However the head was replaced with that of a pig’s. Meanwhile, all along the square perimeter of the room were crude looking wooden carvings of animal heads mounted on poles, reminiscent of decapitated heads on a spike.

Whoever did this included most of old MacDonald’s farmyard—dogs, cats, goats, rams, bulls, and roosters. Oddly enough, it was only the male counterparts of these animals.

“Now this is creepy,” Lincoln said, his eyes fixed on the statue with the pig’s head. “Lucien is one twisted fuck.”

“What the hell is the purpose of all of this?” I asked.

“If there’s a message to be had here, they’ve completely lost me,” Lincoln said, walking over to the animal heads and inspecting them. “Grim little bastard, isn’t he?”

“There is a message here,” Shadow said.

Lincoln raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Animal Farm,” he replied.

“Of course,” Lincoln said, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Lucien is our little Napoleon.”

“Huh?” I was confused. I had heard about the famous story before, but never read it despite having plenty of opportunities to do so. Instead I wasted my time indulging myself in scintillating romance novels and juicy erotic stories.

“Without going into the specifics, the farm animals overthrow the humans and take control of the farm. The pigs end up running the show, led by one porker named Napoleon,” Lincoln explained. “This could be a strange allegory to Lucien’s attempt to take control of the Midnight Society.”

“It’s a poor one if that’s the case,” Shadow said. “At the end of the story, the pigs are no different than the humans that they try to overthrow.”

“Well, Lucien was never the brightest,” Lincoln pointed out, “Though he did fool us all.”

Shadow walked to each of the animal heads and examined them closely. It wasn’t until he reached the dog that he stopped in his tracks.

“There’s something in the dog’s mouth,” Shadow said as he reached down the statue’s throat. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding a wooden box that fit into his palm.

“Jesus,” Lincoln cursed. From the look on his face, he was just as concerned as Shadow was.

These two men loved Calisto—one by blood and the other by chance—and for anything to happen to Calisto would tear them both apart.

“Are you going to open it?” I asked. Shadow nodded, though I could tell he was hesitant to.

He pushed open the lid of the box and looked at the contents within. His face was immediately wrenched with anguish and he unleashed a scream that was fused with both anger and agony.

I watched as the wooden box containing a severed finger—a sparkling diamond band wrapped around it—fell to the floor.

I wanted to scream as well, but I held myself together. Shadow was in shock, and he needed me.

“Maybe it’s not Calisto’s,” I said. “That could be anyone’s finger.”

“It’s hers,” Lincoln said, his face ghostly white.

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because I gave her that ring for her birthday,” he replied.

Before we had a chance to mourn, shots erupted from outside.

Shit was really starting to hit the fan.

#