Drained: The Lucid (36 page)

“No.” Riley shook her head. “It’s not potent enough. But it does slow the process down.” She popped the cork on the bottle. It was getting easier to swallow the dark matter, a thought that didn’t sit well with her. The smoke curled out of the open lip of the bottle and she breathed in, not wanting to risk Morgan ingesting the black market energy.

She sucked it in, letting the smoke fill her lungs. To keep balance, her hand curled around the edge of the pedestal sink, tethering her just in case.

She kept her eyes closed, knowing they would involuntarily slip into her primordial cubare color. She didn’t want to alarm Morgan any more than was necessary. The energy felt heavy in her chest before it finally settled. Riley slowed her breathing and concentrated on the color of her eyes. Resolved that it was safe to open her eyes, she did so.

Morgan remained in the doorway. “So. That’s it?”

Riley barked out a laugh. She had no idea.

“C’mon. I think I found something in one of the books.” Morgan offered her hand, and Riley allowed herself to be led. “I can’t believe I missed it before. But I’m not sure where we’ll find this stuff.”

It took her over thirty minutes of driving up and down the same stretch of highway before she succumbed to failure. All she had seen for miles was an outdated gas station and an equally old diner where the bookstore was supposed to be. Both establishments looked like they had been there since the beginning of time. She was in the dark matter that surrounded the town of Bakersfield—miles of vast nothingness that was no-man’s land.

Frustrated, Riley pulled her sedan into a gas station that could have possibly been abandoned. The GPS announced that her destination had been reached even when there was no sign of what she was looking for. Had it not been for a couple of cars parked in the area, she would have thought it was closed. How either of the businesses could stay in operation was a mystery to her.

She got out of her car to take a good look around. There wasn’t a soul in sight. A little worried about the possibility that she had entered the wrong address into the car’s navigation system, Riley fished a small piece of paper from her back pocket. On the crumpled paper were brief directions she had scribbled down from years of habit. She remembered the simpler time with fondness. Before vocalized turn-by-turn directions, there had been maps and written notes.

The directions were straightforward. She had exited at the right place. Her eyes regarded the outside of the building with curiosity. On one corner of the gas station was the address she had written down as her destination.

Riley had ordered more books from The Rabbit Hole on the subject of cubare history, but hours of continuous research had revealed nothing but a vague mention of how a human could block cubare from entering his or her dreams. In the absence of that pertinent information, Riley had decided to track down the store itself.

She walked across the barren land, each step kicking up small clouds of clay-colored specks. The dust that settled against her jeans made her glad for the protective layer. Had it been in the midst of summer, she’d be withering under the dry heat, and dirt would have clung to every inch of exposed skin. She was grateful for the winter cool, even if she had to shield herself from the nipping breeze.

There was a chime when she entered the gas station. The shop was smaller than she had anticipated, but the interior was a nice surprise. Where everything had looked rusted and covered in grime on the surface, inside, Riley found a white tiled floor that had been polished and shelves that were neatly stocked.

An old man sat behind the front counter and looked up from a small television set. He smiled and greeted her with a lift of his battered cap.

“I’m hoping you could possibly help me.” She smiled and approached the stranger with her paper in hand. “I’m not too familiar with the area and I think I may have written my directions down wrong.”

“Let me take a look,” he said, a hand gesturing for her piece of paper. She slid the directions across the counter and watched as he squinted his eyes to read.

“It’s called the Rabbit Hole.” She dug in her bag to pull out evidence in the form of their disclaimer letter. “Did they happen to move or is this a misprint?”

With her hands and head deep in her bag, she felt the man’s hand still her movements.

“It’s in the back.”

Riley blinked at his words. She hesitated before looking where he nodded. Aside from one small section covered by a curtain, the back wall was a row of freezers full of drinks. Riley had originally assumed the curtain was covering an employees’ only area, but now, with the option to go through the small space, it was looking more like the entrance to hell.

She shivered at the possibility. It was such a small strip of fabric.

Sensing her reluctance, the old man smiled and patted at her arm again. He clearly did not have the same sense of personal space as the people in LA had. “If you want, they have another entrance out back.”

Riley nodded and gave her thanks. “That’s alright. I’ll take the shortcut.” She was a succubus. If she could brave the dark hallways of a violent client on her own free will, the distance between the two shops was no threat to her life. Also, she didn’t want to seem rude.

It was a narrow hallway; no two adults standing side-by-side could walk down the confined space. The poorly lit area had one tiny bulb to illuminate the dark space, and it was flickering its way to burning out.

As Riley walked, she could feel her chest tighten with the anticipation of the unknown. For all she knew, she could be walking straight into the core of a gang-affiliated business where they sold drugs and rare collectables that they snatched from the people they murdered. Or, maybe she’d find a room full of illegal drugs with workers chained to tables, forced to weigh, cut, and package their product all day long as prisoners to the cartel. Riley’s imagination had catapulted her to the top of the cubare community, but in the suffocating hallway, it was giving her a panic attack.

Her anxiety of the small space won out, and her grasp on the curtain to the other store was a godsend.

When she pulled the dark fabric aside, Riley was met with the mixed scent of incense, herbs, and oils. Wisps of smoke could be seen throughout different sections of the shop; some came from candles, while others were from oil burners. Her lungs had to readjust to the dense air as she struggled against a pending cough.

The Rabbit Hole was nothing like the gas station to which it was attached. With an interior much darker than its fluorescent-lit counterpart, the spacious shop was decorated with deep mahogany throughout. On the opposite wall was what Riley supposed was the front door. Thin, white curtains covered the door window, and a bell hung from the framing. Off to the left side stood a high wooden counter, behind it, a shelving unit colored in a matching stain. The display piece was impressive in size as it spanned from floor to the ceiling. Jars of herbs and spices filled every shelf, along with boxes of mysterious items. In fact, almost every display unit, book shelf, and sitting area was well-proportioned.

There were a few other customers scattered throughout the store, each occupied in their own needs. Some of the people were in groups, others by themselves.

From what Riley could see, none of the books on the shelves were anywhere near the size of what she had bought. These books were thin paperbacks that could have been sold at a big box bookstore.

Taking one last glance, Riley took a few steps to venture deeper in. The clack of her heels echoed through the quiet store, and a few people turned their attention toward her. It made her self-conscious, but there wasn’t much she could do about her shoes.

She didn’t get far before being greeted by the soothing voice of the shopkeeper.

“Welcome, Sunshine.” The woman stood an entire head shorter than the succubus. She was older, a little stout in stature, with a mass of greying hair pulled back into a messy bun. Her glasses were perched on the nest-like mane.

When Riley didn’t respond, the smaller woman moved closer. Her oversized skirt swayed with her steps, and the tips of her brown loafers peeked out from under the long fabric. “I said, welcome, Sunshine. How may I be of service?”

Riley blinked and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little spacey lately.”

In an instant, the shopkeeper held up her index finger, and her pudgy face lit up in excitement. “I have the perfect cure for that.”

Before Riley could correct the misunderstanding, the woman had scampered off to the shelves behind the counter and was up on a stepladder. Her small hands pushed bottles aside and opened dozens of boxes. She worked at a frantic speed, as if Riley’s life depended on being focused. A tinge of guilt washed over the succubus; there wasn’t a need for the stranger to work so hard.

Riley couldn’t help but bite her lip as there was some amusement from what she was watching. The kind of customer service the shopkeeper provided was impressive, even if there was a slight misunderstanding. Whatever the lady was hunting down, it would only be fair to buy the product.

“Ha! I found you.” Despite her height, the shopkeeper was determined to reach the item she had been looking for. On the tips of her toes, with one arm outstretched to the point of dislocation, she nabbed the glass jar from the back of the top shelf. Her hand could almost wrap around the entire circumference of the bottle. After hopping down the few steps of the ladder, she placed the bottle on the counter and twisted off the cap.

A vile smell escaped the container. If Riley had needed a cure to wake the dead, she was sure this would have been the recipe to do it. Inside of the jar was a mixture of minced herbs surrounded by an unknown murky substance. She silently hoped she didn’t need to drink it.

“You need to breath in this fine concoction,” the shopkeeper instructed before retightening the lid. Her eyes were beginning to water. “Twice a day, and you’ll have your head on straight soon enough.”

Riley took the jar and observed the mysterious contents. Even she had to admit, it did clear her head better than any menthol product had ever done before. The grogginess from days of dark energy consumption felt lessened by the quick whiff.

“Thank you.” Riley flashed her most sincere smile. “But I was hoping you could help me with one more thing.” She retrieved the book that Morgan had referenced from her bag and placed it on the counter. “I bought this book from here a few days ago.”

The shopkeeper gasped. “Riley Carter?”

Riley’s heart began to beat wildly, and she felt like a deer trapped in headlights. “How did you know my name?”

The woman laughed. “It’s not everyday someone buys that many books on that specific subject.” Her eyes drifted over Riley. “I was expecting a boy. But the name fits you well.” She snatched up the book and fanned its pages. “Was the book not to your liking?” She grinned as her eyes glossed over the table of contents. “I personally think it’s a delightful read. But you are within our refund period.”

Riley narrowed her eyes and whispered, “Do you know what I am?”

“You’re a cute one aren’t you?” The shopkeeper’s small hand gently patted the side of Riley’s face. “Now let’s get you some tea, and I’ll help you the best I can.”

A sitting area resided off to the side of the shop in a nook. Behind it was an open space that could have passed as a modest dance floor. When Mrs. Hanfield, the name of the shopkeeper Riley later learned, had brought her to the little area, she was slightly confused at how the sparsest part of the store could help her.

Bang!

The loud sound caught Riley by surprise, causing her to jerk where she stood. Mrs. Hanfield had slammed her hand onto the first of four distinct panels of wood slats on the far section of the wall. Before Riley could voice her concern for the smaller woman’s palm, the four panels began to slide out from their hidden compartments.

At their extended lengths, four full rows of shelving units overtook the open floor. Each row was over ten feet in length and held a variety of odd trinkets and books similar to what Riley had received in the mail. Every item on display looked hand-selected, and Riley wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that they had been gathered from across the globe.

For most consumers, the Rabbit Hole was simply another odds-and-ends shop, filled with spices, herbs, candles, and the best selection—over one hundred scents, their literature boasted—of incense in all of California; conversely, for anyone with allergies or a sensitive nose, it could have been their worst nightmare. Riley observed that sneezing fits were not uncommon in the store. But beyond the simple exterior of the quaint establishment, hidden behind a few select walls, were darker truths the modern world had long forgotten.

“I’ll let you browse, Riley,” the shopkeeper said with a curious smile. “I have some other customers to attend to, and then I’ll be back for you.”

For a time, Mrs. Hanfield left Riley to her own devices at the back of the store. It was there where all the
antiquities
sat quietly, waiting for the moment that they’d be pulled out into the open air. After store hours, Riley sat at a small table in the sitting nook with Mrs. Hanfield, continuing to explore the treasures that the Rabbit Hole had in stock. As promised, the shopkeeper had made them both tea. Riley stirred a small spoon in her china cup; it was impossible not to think about Morgan. She only drank tea with her.

“Now, let’s see what we can do for you.” Mrs. Hanfield scanned the book titles on the shelves. She tapped her fingertips against pursed lips. “I think … yes,” she said, speaking aloud to herself, “this is what you’re looking for.” She reached for an ancient-looking tome, but even when standing on tiptoes, the book was just out of her curtailed reach.

Riley scrambled to her feet. “Let me help you.”

Mrs. Hanfield grinned. “So chivalrous.” She practically giggled with glee. “You must do well.”

Riley pulled the book from the shelf and handed it to the shopkeeper. “How do you know what I am?”