Semblance (25 page)

“He’s just a kid,” I said. “He’s just another stupid kid who made a stupid decision in life. I killed him with a press of a button. How is that fair?”

I raised my hand and stared at it. My fingers, which I used many times to create music, had the same capacity to kill someone with a push of a button. It dawned on me that I didn’t need to kill him; I could have trapped him inside this room and left him here. But instead, I allowed the anger of Abraham’s death and Calisto’s disappearance to take control. In the heat of the moment, I wanted him to die.

It was murder of the first degree.

“Aria, you did what you had to do. Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t take him down? He could have surprised us. I could be dead,” Shadow said.

I closed my eyes and reflected on his words. After a moment I nodded and rose to my feet.

Though there was truth to what Shadow said, the reality was this—the image of the boy, grasping for air on the video screen, will haunt me until the day I die. It was something I had to live with.

“Did you find anything on their bodies?” I asked.

Shadow shook his head. “Every one of them is clean. No wallets, no cellphones; nothing.”

“On the contrary,” Lincoln said as he entered into the room with a smart phone in his hand. “Look what I found hidden in between the ass cheeks of their ring leader.”

“You dug through his underwear?” Shadow asked raising a brow.

“I’m very thorough,” Lincoln replied as he held the phone out to him. “I did a quick search through the contacts and browsing history but found nothing. Want to see for yourself?”

There was a look of disgust on Shadow’s face as he shook his head. “No thanks. You can hold onto it.”

Suddenly the phone started vibrating.

“A call?” I asked.

Lincoln shook his head. “Text message looks like.”

“From?” Shadow asked.

“Unknown,” he replied as he scanned the message before turning to us. “But it looks like we just received a break in this little mystery of ours.”

“What does it say?” I asked.

“Collect your payment at 465 Townly Street, unit 37, Passcode 9421,” Lincoln said. “That address sounds familiar. What was over there again?”

“It’s a storage facility,” Shadow said, “One of the many side businesses that I own.”

“No harm in checking it out then,” Lincoln said. “Who knows, maybe Lucien might be stupid enough to show up himself with a burlap sack stuffed with unmarked bills.”

“You actually believe that?” Shadow asked.

Lincoln walked over to where the box containing Calisto’s severed finger laid on the ground. He picked it up as if it were a delicate flower. “At this point Shadow, all we can do is hope.”

Shadow stared at the box and nodded.

“We’ll find her guys,” I said, sensing the grief that was shared between the two of them. “Calisto’s a tough girl.”

Lincoln took a deep breath. “Well come on then. Let’s see what surprises wait for us at the storage facility.”

Though he tried to remain calm, I could tell that Calisto’s horrific kidnapping was tearing Lincoln apart. It was the worst part about falling in love with someone. At some point, they were destined to hurt you, whether they meant to or not—the dark side to every love story.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I was shocked to see the bodies of Shadow’s men, along with a small army of hired killers, litter the outer hallways of Calisto’s residence. It looked as if a war had been fought inside the condo building.

Shadow seemed distraught by the carnage. He had known some of these men personally.

It was Lincoln who consoled him, pointing out that for every one of Shadow’s guards that fell, there were three killers who lay dead next to them. They had whittled away a death squad of at least thirty down to eight, giving up their lives to increase our chances of survival. In the end, they did their jobs and did them well.

We left the condo, and the massacre.

Shadow remained silent, his eyes focused on the road, navigating the Aston Martin through the city’s highway, guided by the glow of the midnight lights.

“Her kidnapping makes no sense,” Lincoln stated all of a sudden. “There’s no ransom note, nor instructions for her safe return. Why give us her finger with no demands?”

“Lucien’s sending us a message,” Shadow said grimly. “He wants us to be afraid of him. He wants us to see him as a genuine threat.”

Lincoln sat back in his seat and cursed. Tensions were high and we were all emotionally drained, which made for an uneasy car ride.

We finally pulled up to the steel gates of the storage facility. It had started to pour; heavy tears from the sky that reflected my own mood.

The security guard on duty recognized Shadow and opened the gate for us without a word.

“Why would Lucien choose a storage facility that you own as a meeting place?” I asked, puzzled.

“A lot of my personal businesses are kept secret from the rest of the society. I’m sure Lincoln has his own establishments kept off the records as well.”

It took a moment for Lincoln to clue in on the conversation. He was too busy torturing himself by staring at Calisto’s severed finger.

“Lincoln?” I tried reaching out to him, concerned for his sanity.

He looked up from the box and its horrific contents and pulled a Jekyll and Hyde, his morose demeanor morphing into a cheerful one. “If anyone ever wants a complimentary manicure and shellac that’s out of this world, let me know,” he said, putting the box away.

“Why keep all these businesses a secret?” I asked.

“Two reasons; the first being that people within the Midnight Society are nosy and love measuring their wealth against each other,” Lincoln explained. “Consider it a ‘my dick is bigger than yours syndrome.’ It’s childish, really. If people had the ability to be content with what they already have, wouldn’t this world be such a happier place?”

“Tell that to the woman who just heard about the latest designer handbag from Burberry,” I said.

“For us to keep a set of our own businesses off the record allows everyone to speculate each other’s true worth. What’s on paper will never be a true reflection of our net income. This removes the entire measuring our dicks…” Lincoln paused as he casted me a quick glance, “…or vaginas syndrome.”

“I appreciate your effort to be politically correct in your analogy,” I mused. “Though believe it or not, unlike men, girls don’t tend to get jealous over the size of our vajayjays.”

Lincoln ignored my comment and continued. “The second reason we hide our businesses is that some of us tend to deal in some shadier dealings and we need to launder the money coming through with secret side businesses.”

“Shady dealings as in knock off sunglasses and black market electronics?” I speculated.

“Not exactly. It’s better off you didn’t know,” Shadow said.

I turned to Shadow, surprised. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry,” he said, “But I have no punch line for you.”

“You’re telling me my boyfriend is a criminal?”

“In his defense, we’re all criminals,” Lincoln said. “I have my illegal business dealings but I also own one of the most elite Montessori daycares in the country. I try to balance out the bad with the good; give myself a neutral karma rating.”

“That doesn’t make you good,” I said. “A crack dealing Mary Poppins is still a criminal, no matter how many spoonfuls of sugar she shoves down a whiny kid’s mouth.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you Aria,” Shadow said. “But as I said, it’s better if you didn’t know.”

“Great, my lover is the Godfather,” I sighed.

“Do you regret being with me?” Shadow asked.

I shook my head without hesitation. “I love you,” I replied. “Although I can’t say when I was a little girl, I had dreams of sleeping with Lex Luthor.”

“I’m not bald,” Shadow pointed out.

“You get the idea.”

The Aston Martin pulled up to unit thirty-seven and the three of us filed out of the car and into the rain. I stood there and allowed every droplet of water to wash over my body.

I wanted to feel cleansed.

“Here goes,” Shadow said, walking over to the storage unit. “Aria, stay back,” he said, his gun in one hand while the other punched the access code into the security key pad.

A green light indicated that the entry was accepted and slowly, the heavy garage doors to the storage unit began to open.

The world froze all around us as we waited for the doors to open, and when they finally did, I was horrified by the nightmare that was waiting for us inside.

#

Chapter Thirty

In the span of a few days, my life was flipped upside down.

I went from making passionate love with Shadow in the breathtaking kingdom of Cambodia to standing in the rain, staring at the corpse of a man, lying on a table.

“It’s Lucien,” Lincoln said, his eyes wide. “What the fuck is going on?”

At the centre of the room, a white light illuminated Lucien’s pale body lying on a black marble table. Soft purple petals surrounded him, creating a sickly yet beautiful display, as if his corpse was the centerpiece of some twisted artistic expression. Resting at his feet was an envelope.

Meanwhile, the entire storage facility had been converted to a cold room with several heavy-duty air conditioners blasting frigid air throughout the unit, no doubt to preserve the body for when we found it.

What
really
drew my attention was the black tattoo of a goat’s head, beautifully drawn onto his chest.

Was this referencing a scapegoat?

“How did he die?” I asked, shivering. I was freezing. The dampness of my clothes from the rain didn’t help either as I felt the chill seep into my bones.

Shadow examined the body and shook his head. “There’s no wound,” he said, the vapors from his breath hanging in the air like smoke. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold. “No ligatures or bruises either. My guess is either suffocation or poison.” 

Shadow walked over to the envelope, picked it up and pulled out the contents inside. It was a single white card.

“What is it?” Lincoln asked.

“It’s an invitation,” Shadow replied, showing us the card, “Dated for tonight.”

“Come and play at Midnight,” I read aloud. Following the message was a fiery logo that I didn’t recognize. I was baffled. “Come play where? What’s with all these cryptic messages?”

“They want us to come to the Inferno,” Shadow said.

“A gambler’s den inspired by Satan himself,” Lincoln commented. He stared at Lucien’s body for a moment, before turning away in disgust. “I can’t say I ever liked the guy, but he didn’t deserve this. We were chasing the wrong person all this time.”

“Which leaves us with the question, who the hell is orchestrating all of this?” Shadow asked.

“Are you considering going to the Inferno?” I asked. “Not to dive right into a proverbial cliché, but I think it’s a trap.”

“What other choice do we have?” Shadow asked. “Calisto is still missing and in the hands of a complete psychopath. The only chance we have to get her is to play his game and win.”

“Sink or swim it is then,” Lincoln agreed. “Should we contact the rest of the Midnight Society and let them know what we’re up to?”

“They’re already messaging me,” Shadow said as he drew his cellphone from his pocket. “All of them at once from the looks of it.”

I saw the look of dread on his face as he scanned the messages on his phone. Something was wrong.

“Shadow, what is it?” I asked.

He turned the screen of his phone towards us so we could both see. It was the images of Brevin West, James Takeshi, and Donald Huff. They were all bound, and gagged—but still alive. The look of fear in all their eyes was unmistakable.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lincoln said, shaking his head. “The fucker has everyone else.”

Shadow’s phone buzzed again. The image this time showed Calisto--wearing an elegant white evening gown--tied to a stone table like a sacrificial victim. Standing over her was the tall figure of a man concealed by a black cloak, reminiscent of an executioner from medieval times. His face was hidden behind a white porcelain mask, red tears dripping down the sides of it symbolizing blood. I shivered upon first glance of this sadistic man.

There was an additional caption to go along with this image.

“Can you save her before I kill her, like I did your parents?”

Shadow’s face changed from a look of concern to one of burning hatred. He stared at the image, his knuckles white from gripping the phone too tightly.

“Shadow, are you okay?” I asked.

He turned to me.

“I’m going to kill him. Tonight, I’ll find whoever did this to my family and I’m going to crush his skull with my bare hands.”

I suddenly felt my cellphone vibrate as well. I checked the message and was horrified to see an image of Justin, blindfolded, and tied to a pole. Beneath his feet was a pile of kinder.

Save him or watch him burn,
was the text that followed, sent by an unknown caller.

“They have Justin,” I became hysterical. “Oh god, they took Justin! He has nothing to do with any of this. Oh shit, shit, shit.”

I was panicking and it took Shadow’s strong embrace to calm me down.

“He has everyone,” Shadow said. “I promise you Aria, we’ll free them, and after we do, I’ll find everyone responsible and I’ll kill them all.”

#