Second Skin (Skinned) (17 page)

“Nothing. Something pulled me in, and then I was on my own until you guys came in.”

I swung to Brit. “You saw it, right? The hand, the arm…all normal, and then black and rotten?”

She grimaced. “Yeah, but not in front of the baby. Please.” Unsheathing my athame, I stepped around Brit to stand at the top of the basement stairs. If the entrance and hall to the café were dark and gloomy, the basement was downright uninviting. The sigils carved on the handrail cast a thready green glow along the wall, before fading into pitch black at the base of the stairs. I inhaled deeply, scenting a whiff of mint so faint I might be imagining it.

Wade, are you down there? Damn it, answer me!

My foot hovered over the first step.

“Kate, where are you?” Brit called out. A low moan from the main seating area of the caféhad Brit and Paige bolting down the hallway, their footsteps thunderous in the quiet.

“Guys? Wait a sec. That might not be a good idea.” Not that my plan was any brainier. I wanted to follow the others, to make sure Brit and Paige were safe, to see if Kate was okay so I could kill her myself. But I wanted to find out if Wade was imprisoned in the basement of Conundrum café a hell of a lot more.

Athame clutched in hand, I descended the stairs.

Lovely. I was trapped in the role of expendable redshirt in a slasher flick. I could almost hear the movie audience yelling at me to turn back, feel the popcorn striking the screen, and see the self- professed thrillseekers watching through splayed fingers.

But like a good little scream queen, I crept downward.

If I had to face a monster alone in a cold, dank basement, I’d take my chances with Wade any day. Like my father used to say,
better the devil you know
. Besides, I’d stopped thinking of Wade as a monster the moment I saw his face after he’d killed his mother. A true monster wouldn’t feel that kind of anguish and guilt. Or maybe that was part of the shtick, the secret sauce to perfecting that tortured-soul vampire gig. Or maybe I held a smidge of hope that me and Wade, and other monsters like us, could rise above temptation when the chips were down.

At the base of the stairs, I faced a solid wall and pressed my palm against it in the darkness while my vision adjusted, pupils dilating to allow me to pierce the darkness. To the right, a closed door. And another to my left. That one, however, was etched with more protective sigils. The scent of mint pulled me closer. Able to navigate now, I pushed from the wall and chewing on my bottom lip, approached the warded door. I sucked in a breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and grasped the doorknob.

It twisted easily. I swung the door open wide and entered. Immediately my skin sandpapered in goose bumps. The desire to run overwhelmed me. I had to leave. Now. The only thing missing was a voice growling,
Leave this place or die!
I whirled, only to witness the door slamming shut, entombing me inside.

Bolting forward I grasped the handle.Twisted. Pulled. Kicked. The door was sealed shut. I swore, leaning my forehead against the cool wood.
Think, Eryn.
There had to be another way out.

I gasped when a hand settled on my shoulder. I spun again and faced Wade’s mother. I rocked on my feet as the dust-covered wood plank floor rose to meet me. I staggered, but managed to remain upright. The witch’s hollow face wavered before my eyes. Déjà vu with a nausea chaser.

“We have to hurry, child,” she said. “They’re coming.”

No, not again.

Though I was prepared and already taking shallow breaths, I coughed as I inhaled some of the fine grit.

Like before, she thrust a wet rag into my hand. “Breathe through this. It will keep the sand out.”

I pressed the rag to cover my mouth and nose.

“I think you have the wrong girl,” I said through the cloth. “I can’t help Wade, I don’t even know how to try. He’s been missing for weeks.” I lowered the cloth. “Do you know where he is?” I walked further in to the house. “Is that why you brought me here again?”

“This is not of my doing.” Wade’s mother gave the sad smile I’d never forgotten. It lightened her gray eyes, brought beauty to the sorrow in her expression.

“Then who?” Suspicion ran through me. “Kate?”

Wade’s mother laughed. “No, Katrina would never seek out my timeline. To do so would be futile. She can only manipulate her own. That is our gift, and our curse.”

Katrina?
They’d known each other? How was that possible?

“I never asked your name,” I said choking back tears, knowing what was to come.

Another sad smile. “Elizabeth. And you are Eryn McCain, daughter of Liam McCain, and my son’s key to redemption. You have brought yourself through time because you failed to accept the truth.” Her eyes darkened as she said the words I knew by heart. “What you see has already come to pass.” She gripped my arms, her fingers strong. “You are my witness. The only hope for my boy. Don’t fail me.”

A tall, dark form filled the doorway. The wind carried the smell of decay and rotting flesh, and though I filtered for it, no stench of rotten eggs.

“I know you’re in there, witch,” a deep voice roared. “Come see what I’ve got for you.” The man reached an arm out into the dust and then shoved Wade into the room.

The scene played out around me, Wade scenting easy prey. His hunger. How he charged for the witch, his incisors extending into fangs.

But this time I didn’t try to stop him, didn’t slice at his back only to discover my hands slipping through his body as if I were made of air. I did none of that, because this time I noticed another figure lingering beyond Logan’s self-satisfied form in the doorway. A tall, muscular man with achingly familiar features.

I stepped closer, cupping a hand over my mouth. My breath caught on a sob.

Impossible. This was the night mare stringing me out on the rack and watching me squirm. It had to be.

“Daddy?”

I stared out into the swirling dust. My father held an object in his hand, glittering, silver, and about the size of a pocket watch, but with multiple dials on the face where the hours would be. He consulted it for a few seconds, and then observed Wade’s vile deed with impassive eyes. He was analyzing how Wade performed.

“What is this?” I whirled to face Elizabeth. Stalked to her as Wade drained her life and the magic from her veins. “Some kind of night mare version of water torture? Make it stop!”

Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, met and held mine. “You see how he cursed my boy? Do you see what he did?”

“No.” I stumbled. My hand slipped through the curio cabinet as I tried to lean on it for support. Unbalanced, I fell to my knees. When Elizabeth had said those words before, I’d thought she’d referred to Logan.

Had she meant my father all along?

Wade stood and stared beyond me to face the men in the doorway, guilt marring his too-perfect face. Blood dripped down his chin. His mother, dead at his feet.

My father had done this. Turned a boy into a monster, the same way he’d turned his little girl into a beast.

Put Your Weapons Down

“Eryn, wake up.”

I coiled tighter into myself. I lay on a hard surface, curled up in fetal position, my arms wrapped around knees, eyes squeezed shut. I was used to shutting out the world. I’d been doing so for most of my life. Keeping humans at a distance, for their safety and my own, hiding my true feelings from my parents, the cravings and the bloodlust. But now I was floundering. Overwhelmed with emotions I had no idea how to contain. I’d endured years of bottled-up madness. The cutting, the desire to give into my inner beast just to see what it could do. All that yearning, soul searching…for what?

Only to discover that my father had not only believed I’d become a monster, he might have deliberately set about my creation knowing I’d turn. Why? And not just me, he’d been a participant during Wade’s turning as well. He’d stood in that doorway with Logan and watched. Had been there, doing nothing as Wade was sent along the darkest path imaginable. For all I knew, my father might have even handpicked Wade. How many others like us were there? How many had he betrayed?

What was my father doing in Wade’s time? He was human, just like his brother Marcus. Right? Questions sliced through my mind and festered in my gut. Had my mother known? Was my whole life a lie?

“Eryn!” Alec’s voice sharpened. His sweet spice scent was tinged with worry.

“Leave me alone.”

“I can’t. Talk to me, Eryn. What happened? What’s going on?” Gentle fingers trailed along my cheek. I relaxed enough to unfold one arm and brush them aside though I wanted nothing more than to grab on to Alec and never let go. His touch had always calmed me. His scent mingled with a ribbon of mint. Immediately I thought of Wade. Elizabeth. Logan. My father.

“Hurts,” I moaned.

“What hurts? Your head?” Alec’s fingers slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head. “Matt, check her out for injuries. Kate, sit down before you fall.”

More hands pressing, searching for wounds they’d never find. Pain had settled in my soul, not my bones.

“Is Wade here?” I voiced the fear I’d dreaded since Wade had stopped sending me mental messages. “Oh God, is he dead?”

“Is he—?” A muffled curse. “Your leather-clad wonder isn’t here, Eryn. Since absence seems to make your heart fonder, how about if I just disappear for a while?” The spice scent faded as Alec stormed from the room.

I closed my eyes for a second and sucked in a shaky breath, about to call him back, but I couldn’t force out the words. One mention of Wade, and he’d bailed. So much for not being able to leave my side.

I sat up, my movements uncoordinated, my shoulder aching from where I must have dropped in a dead faint. Matt and Brit rushed forward to help me to my feet. A baby’s wail echoed in the room. I cringed, cupping my hands over my sensitive ears.

“Sorry, Gertrude’s been fussy since the alley.” Brit collected the doll from where it had been propped against the wall.

Matt snorted. “Can’t you stow it away somewhere for now?” I gave a bitter grin. “Mine’s stuffed in my locker at school.” “See, there’s an option.”

Brit glared at Matt. “No, it’s not. Let’s go keep Paige out of trouble. I don’t think Alec’s in the mood to deal with her drama.” She avoided my gaze, dragging Matt behind her, and made for the stairs.

I spun around, taking in my surroundings. Not Wade’s house after all. I’d stumbled into Kate’s ritual site. Torches of flickering balefire, a flame fueled by magic, cast the room in shadow. The walls and the concrete floor were painted white to purify and focus Kate’s energy. A solid wooden table along the back wall served as an altar and atop it rested a basin for burning herbs, a granite mortar and pestle to crush and blend them, candles of every color, and a thick hardcover volume.

Kate’s grimoire?

A chill settled in my stomach. I hated being enveloped by magic. At the center of the room, two six-foot-by-three-foot standing mirrors loomed back to back, their flawless glass panels framed with ornately embellished silver. The scent of mystical energy, a concentrated, ancient musk blended with fresh mint, now dominated my senses. Power hummed from the mirrors, making me uneasy, like walking into a room filled with floating knives, all pointing at me. Upon first glance the mirrors were merely imposing because of their size. But in the still of the room, energy radiated from the silver frames, like heat waves off concrete baking under a hot summer sun. And I didn’t want to get burned.

So I looked away.

Sitting in one of two wingback chairs on either side of the entrance was Kate.

I growled low in my throat. While I’d been going out of my mind experiencing epiphanies I could have lived without, Kate sat there like some schmuck watching reruns from the comfort of a recliner. She had all the answers, I knew it. I launched across the room and hauled her to her feet.

“You lying witch, where is Wade?” I shook her. Hard. “I know you have him hidden here somewhere. Trapped in a freaking cage.” A scramble of feet came from behind me, then Matt’s voice,