Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (245 page)

“What do you mean by that? You’ve said it before, but I don’t understand.”

“Okay, so the tiers, right?” He said, beginning to slowly massage my scalp.

“Uh-huh.” Oh my. Earth to Evie’s brain, come in brain…

“I told you we live in various shades of grey, which range all the way from the black to the white. You know how color spectrums work?”

“Sure.”

“The variations between colors are slight.”

“How many tiers are there, then? And what makes one different from the next?”

“There are hundreds, with each variation being minutely closer to the white or closer to the black. It’s all based on vibrations—the ones humans and spirits give off. But, there are truly only three vibrations that are extra strong. The white, the black, and the grey.”

I laughed softly, “I guess all those old Westerns were right then.” He looked down at me, questioning. “You know, the bad guy always wears the black hat, the good guy wears the white…”

He nodded earnestly, “Exactly! The white is all about the good things—love, joy, happiness. The black, well that’s obvious. The grey represents choice and balance. Each of us in the Grey Tier has free will, but most other tiers do not. The grey is the equalizer.”

“The Black Tier is obviously home to bad spirits.” I said as a slight shiver hit me.

“Yes. Asuras who are governed by the Asat Order.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out more, especially not after my experience tonight, but I needed to know. “Tell me, what does it mean that I am your project?”

He laid his head back on the pillow and let out a sigh, his breath (it’s the only thing I can think to call it, even though I know he wasn’t exactly breathing) swirling out of him in an indigo haze. He looked at me with those stormy eyes. His fingers reached out and grazed my forehead, my cheeks, and finally, my lips. I could feel myself melting into a puddle of molten Evie. “Let’s not worry about it right now.”

“But you said you would teach me. Tell me stuff.”

“For now, I can only tell you what you need to know.”

I sighed. “Okay. Can you tell me if there could be a portal at Nick’s?”

“The bar?”

“Yes. You said portals are created when someone dies in violent ways or isn’t ready to go.”

“I did.”

“I think maybe Nick left a portal, or one was created at the bar when he died.”

“It’s possible. But why do you think so?”

“I felt a presence there tonight when I closed up.”

“A presence?” The aura, around him darkened suddenly and he frowned.

“Yes. Like I know when you’re here, even before I see you. This was different though. I didn’t feel warm and comforted. I felt cold and afraid and I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. It also felt like something was pulling on me— something strong.”

Lucas didn’t say anything for a moment or two, and I shifted uneasily on top of the covers.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I think I need to check it out. It could be a couple of things. It could be an Asura from the Black Tier … or, it could be Nick.” A flare of hope lit in me. Would I see Nick’s spirit? But then I recalled how uncomfortable and frightened I’d felt. How could it possibly be Nick? He’d never intentionally try to scare me. Lucas nodded slowly as if sensing the direction of my thoughts. “He could be stuck there, and you sensed what he felt prior to his death. His spirit, if it is him, is likely still in a state of simple energy, and he could be trying to warn you.”

“A warning?” That was a lot better than the “being attacked by evil spirits” scenario.

“And wait … you could go there? To Nick’s Place? But I thought you couldn’t go through portals built by spirits who contain a different vibration or exist on a different tier.”

“It isn’t impossible, it’s just … complicated.” He stood abruptly and began pacing around the room. If he’d been alive, I’d have said he seemed agitated. Clearly the idea of something going down at Nick’s was troubling him. “It depends where I need to go. If I only have to travel a couple of tiers up or down to gather information, it’s kind of like you traveling to another country. I have to obtain permission…”

“From the Bodha?”

He stopped pacing and dropped back down onto the bed. “Yes, and also from certain spirits within the tier I am going to. Each tier has its own hierarchy. And then, when I am in the other tiers, or going through portals I haven’t been invited to come through, I have to follow specific rules that vary from tier to tier. If I don’t abide by those rules, I am sent back out and forbidden to reenter.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, as if it were the most natural and common thing for him to do. I tried to pretend it was no big deal for me either, but I was doing a massive happy dance on the inside. The best part was that every time he touched me, it felt good and there were no horrific visions.

“In any case,” he continued, “I can’t move too far away from this tier. If I need to move into a tier too many levels from this one, I take certain risks. I could be detained, like what might happen if you went to another country without a passport. But being detained in, say, the Black would be a whole lot worse than being detained in any country in your world.”

“Worse how?” Focus on what he’s saying, Evie. Must stop thinking about his hand.

“Worse in that 99.9% of the time a spirit is ‘detained’ in the Black, they never leave.”

That caught my attention in a big way. “Hold on. So you don’t even get a trial or hearing or a get out of jail free card? You’re just trapped there? Forever?”

His fingers were gently making circles on the palm of my hand but he seemed worlds away. “Oh, there’s always the obligatory trial. For example, when we pass from human form, we go through a sort of life review—it’s like watching a short movie of your life, highlights and lowlights included—and finally there’s a judgment. The White and the Black take into consideration who someone was, what they were like, how they treated others, how they treated themselves, and so on. Then the two sides convene and vote, and that determines where the spirit should fall within the tiers.” He shrugged. “It’s all very democratic.”

“So what about you? How did you end up in the Grey Tier?”

“Me? Some spirits in the White found me worthy of a higher vibrational existence, and some in the Black disagreed. It was a tie, so to speak.” He glanced down at his hand holding mine, a small smile on his face. “But I find I like it here in the Grey, especially lately.” He shot a teasing glance in my direction. “And of course, I have a mission now.”

“Me?”

“Kind of.” He nodded. “By protecting you, I’m ensuring I don’t end up in the Black.”

This conversation was beginning to make me uncomfortable. I was bothered that Lucas’s fate was, to some degree, in my hands. I also wondered how much his visits with me were motivated by what he needed to do to “earn his stripes.” I mean, clearly he enjoyed my company, but I recalled how much of a player he’d been in life. It made me wonder, again, just how much someone’s personality remained after death. I sighed and decided it was time to steer things back to the topic of Nick and the bar.

“What can you do to help me find out what happened to Nick? And I need to know what visited me tonight. I’d hate for that … thing to try and harm someone else.”

Lucas nodded and patted my hand. “Don’t worry. I will do what I can to get more information.”

“How?”

He waggled his eyebrows at me. “We have our ways.” Then he snapped his fingers and a rose appeared. He handed it to me with a flourish. I wondered if he was going to start pulling coins out of my ears.

“What was that for?”

“Because I wanted you to have something beautiful. And I wanted to talk about something other than the tiers.”

The butterflies in my stomach started line dancing. I tilted the rose towards my face, inhaling its sweet, intoxicating fragrance. The color was not like any I’d ever seen before … red, pink, and purple striations with a shell-pink rim. And it glowed softly with the fragile warmth of a lit candle, just as he did.

“I need to go.” He suddenly seemed uneasy.

“Why? Shouldn’t you be here to protect me?” Okay, yes, I know that sounded very “damsel in distress,” but I didn’t want him to leave.

“You’re okay for now. I’ve put a sort of barrier around you and the house that will last at least through the night.”

“A barrier?”

“From anyone or anything seeking to cause you harm.”

“How?”

He smiled. “You will learn about it in time. But I need to go now. I’ll return. Promise.”

And with those words Lucas, like Hototo, slid through an invisible door and quickly faded away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AS A RESULT OF my wacky night, I woke up tired and wishing I had someone to talk to. I even picked up the phone twice to call my mother but kept changing my mind. Thing is, I was sure she’d hear something off in my voice and insist I come home. And what exactly did I plan to tell her anyway? “Hi, Mama. Yes, I’m fine. Oh, I’ve even met someone! You’d love him … if only he weren’t dead and haunting my house.” In the end, I called Betty LaRue, who seemed happy to talk to me. But she couldn’t really hear that well, which meant most of our conversation involved a lot of shouting and repetition. Finally I yelled that I’d write soon and hung up.

Tired or not, I had to get my butt in gear because Simone was going to be filming a new video and she had three “face” changes needed. I’d done a few sketches to outline her various looks, and I knew it was going to be a long day, especially since I planned to go to the bar again in the evening (but tonight I was leaving early … no way was I going to be the last person out the door after what happened last night).

Simone’s video was being filmed at a back lot in Studio City. I drove over bright and early, bringing the obligatory caffeinated beverages. She was in her trailer, waiting for the crew to set up. As I walked over to her trailer door, I spotted what appeared to be a large, glass box dotted with small holes and filled with butterflies. Next to that, a caged jaguar. The big cat stared at me as I opened the door. I’m a big animal lover, but there was something unnerving about its stare. Suddenly, I had a pretty good idea how it felt to be a gazelle in one of those nature programs.

I stepped into the trailer as quickly as I could, almost slamming the door behind me. “Hey,” I said, sounding out of breath.

“Holy shit, Evie. Did you see that fucking tiger out there?”

“It’s a jaguar.” I placed her latte down on the table.

“Whatever.” She opened up a prescription bottle and dropped a pill into her hand. “I need a Xanax. The director tells me the cat and I are going to be walking together through a field of fucking butterflies.”

“Where’s the field?” I asked. “It’s all computer generated. I’ll be using a green screen.” She jerked her head back and swallowed the pill, and then stared at me. Her eyes slowly narrowed into slits. “There is something different about you. You’re all, like, glowy and, I don’t know … you look happy.” She sucked in some air, her eyes widening. “You got laid, didn’t you!”

“No, Simone, I did not.” Why did she always assume happy -looking people must be having sex?

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “Well, whatever it is, you definitely seem different. If I had to guess, I’d say it had to do with a man.” She paused to gauge my reaction and then a sly smile spread across her face. “You like somebody, don’t you? Who is he?! Please tell me he’s not some loser from the bar.”

Since when did self-absorbed Simone become so intuitive?

“There’s nobody, Simone. I swear. I would tell you.” I wasn’t completely lying to her, right? It’s not like Lucas was human or anything.

“You would tell me? You promise?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“Really?”

“Yes. Now can we talk about something else?” Because this lying business was really making me uncomfortable.

She stood up from her chair and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m so excited to finally have a real friend … someone who would share secrets with me. Let’s go to Denny’s tonight! We can go have some of that fried steak shit. God, that stuff is good.”

It was bad enough I was lying to her but now I had to turn her down too. Definitely not one of my more stellar days.

“Um, I can’t. I have my other job.”

She pulled away from me and frowned. “Oh yeah.” And then a big smile broke across her face. “You know what I am going to do tonight?”

“No?”

“I am going to come to hear you sing.”

“Really?” My stomach lurched. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this.

“Really! I’ll be in disguise, of course. Just remember to call me Stacy, okay?” She winked at me.

“Okay.”

“Great! It’s a date then.” She rubbed her hands together excitedly. Honestly, you’d have thought we were heading off to an Oscar after-party. I worried how she might behave at the bar … clearly it was far beneath her standards. Simone tapped me on the shoulder, “Earth to Evie. Time for my butterfly face. My outfit is over there.” She pointed to a few strips of turquoise- colored chiffon hanging on a closet door.