This Blood (2 page)

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Authors: Alisha Basso

BOOK: This Blood
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I decided on the latter.

“Er-r-r...” I stammered, “I know her. What do you want with her?” God, I felt like an ass. I was lying,
badly
. But I was pretty sure he didn’t have a clue that I was Grace.  Even if he had a description, the grungy gothic attire and short bobbed wig I wore would have fooled my own mother. For once, I was thankful that the owner (a drunken, middle-aged man named Oliver Norris) insisted that if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to dress a little sexier. The pale makeup and fake nose ring were a bit over the top for my personal taste, but I was angry and decided to take it to the extreme.  Instead of being irritated, my boss had heartily approved.

“I would like to inquire about a ring she recently sold.” He placed both hands onto the bar and leaned in closer. From his expression, it seemed like he was a little too interested in my reaction.  I tried to play it cool, but before I could stop myself, my eyes shifted to the sparkling jewel on his pinky finger.

My thoughts carried me back to when I first saw that ring.  It was about three months ago.  I was waiting for the bus,
again
, because my old Nova is a total piece of crap. I’d been sitting on the curb, staring off into space. Just as the bus pulled up, I happened to look down and saw something glittery among the trash and debris. On impulse, I scooped it up. I don’t normally dig in the gutter, but I was curious, so I shoved it into my pocket and got on the bus.

When I got home sometime later, I washed off the mud and various chunks of gooey sludge to reveal a strange, silvery ring. The band was thick. Swirling knot-like designs decorated the inside and out, making it a little too busy for my taste. It held a large clear stone in the center that sparkled brilliantly. I assumed it was a very nice, though somewhat gaudy, piece of costume jewelry. Something I would
never
wear.

After a few days, I decided to get it appraised. I’m almost always broke and make barely enough to pay my living expenses, so you can imagine if the ring had the slightest possibility of being valuable, I’d jump on it.  It turned out to be a little more than costume jewelry. What I thought to be silver turned out to be platinum and the clear stone was a two-carat diamond. So yeah, you could say I was seriously excited!

After checking the lost ads and getting the okay from the PD, I sold it. Don’t get me wrong, there was that little voice that said “Don’t bother checking it out, just sell it,” but karma is a spooky thing and I believe it’s always wiser not to screw with it.  Selling the ring gave me enough money to pay my rent for the next two months and made the bank quite a bit happier
.

If I felt uneasy about revealing myself, seeing that ring made it worse. The big questions were, why is this guy looking for me? And, how did he know I once owned that ring? I never showed it to anyone, not even Ann.

 I straightened the neck of my sweater nervously. Clearing my throat, I smiled sweetly, trying to project complete innocence. “May I get your name in case I see her?”  My voice squeaked a little, “I’ll be happy to tell her that you came by.”

He studied me.  His intense gaze was so penetrating, it made me feel like I just had an X-ray.  Eyes narrowed, he finally said, “Yes, my name is Seth. Seth McPhee. Please give her my card and tell her to call me as soon as possible. My staff is available at any hour.”  He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small black card, as if in slow motion. I watched, as he reached across the bar and placed it into my hand. His fingers brushed mine, sending an electric shock to my toes.  The card had a single phone number printed in silver. It was a little hard to read unless you turned the card from side to side to let the light hit it.

“I’ll be sure to give it to her as soon as I see her,” I lied with a smile, hoping it looked more natural than forced.

He considered me for a moment. A strange look entered his eyes, then he turned and faded into the crowd.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”  I breathed.  One thing was for darn sure, he scared the hell out of me! Anyone with half a brain would give him anything he wanted.  Apparently, I had less than half a brain. Damn, he was beautiful, powerful and rich. Leave it to me to screw it up by being a complete and total coward.

Shortly after his departure the cloud in my brain dissipated. The room became louder. The lights were harsher and the sour bar smells rushed me in a revolting cloud of cigarette smoke and body odor.  The abrupt and unpleasant change in atmosphere made the evening trudge by for what felt like an eternity.

The bar was empty by a quarter to three, which was a strange event for the end of the week.

“Well,” I sighed as I approached Debbie at the end of the long bar. “Let’s close her up.”

Not surprisingly, this was the first time we’d spoken all night. She tends to ignore me. I get more tips than she does and I think it rubs her the wrong way. It’s not that I demand attention or anything. She just needs to stop and look into a mirror before she leaves the house. Most men don’t mind when a woman dresses sexy; but to Debbie, sexy is wearing clothing several sizes too small with several layers of foundation that never quite blend in with her skin.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be appreciated for your features, but it’s annoying as hell when it comes from drunken fools with the manners of primates. Call me crazy. They really do it for Debbie though. Young, old, washed or not. She loves them all.

“Seems odd, getting off before the sun,” I tried again. This was our nightly routine. I would attempt conversation and she would pretend she was alone.  She surprised me by smiling. I smiled back, trying to hide my astonishment. I rinsed out the cloth I used to wash the filthy slot-machine glass.  It was a real bitch getting dried schnapps off the buttons.

Debbie wiped her forehead with the back of her hand “I’m not one to complain.” I smirked at that one, hiding my eye roll as she continued, “but I gotta’ get home and soak my poor feet. Whatever possessed me to wear these shoes, I’ll never know.” She plopped down on a stool and pulled a shockingly high red patent leather pump off her abused foot and rubbed it gingerly. The shoe was about two sizes too small and her foot was all swollen and purple. “And anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had enough of this place. I don’t know if you noticed, but it was a pretty strange night.”

 I just nodded and kept on cleaning the glass. I didn’t feel like sharing my opinion on that subject.

 

 

THREE

 

 

The air outside was cool and smelled like rain, probably the best smell in the world.  I walked the short distance to my car, my keys poking out from my knuckles like spikes. This was a habit, honed from years of working in the armpit district of our fair city. I’ve always parked underneath the security lights. It may seem a little paranoid, but I figure a bad guy might think twice before attacking if I’m under a spotlight.  I could be wrong. Hopefully I’ll never find out. 

I turned the key in the ignition several times until my poor car coughed and choked to life. I decided to hold off on purchasing a new one. I wanted to keep my newfound savings account a little longer. Who knew when a real emergency might come up?  I put the car in gear and began the short jaunt home.

My neighborhood is pretty quiet, which is strange considering I live near the university. My little cottage is small and tucked away behind a much larger house. It was previously used as the owner’s guesthouse.  My landlord brought it up to code so he could rent it out for a little extra money, and now it’s home sweet home. I don’t even mind living behind him. It saves a stamp and I never have to worry about maintenance.

 I pulled into the small lot behind my place and let myself in through the back door. I don’t have any pets, only my little fish, Floyd.  It’s a little lonely. I sometimes long to be mugged by a loving pooch upon entering the house, but I’ve had too many dogs bark at empty rooms and joyfully leave toys in my open closet, to ever consider adopting a new one. The world is a strange place and living alone, I get a little spooked.  

I grabbed a bag of popcorn from the pantry and tossed it into the microwave on my way to the bathroom. I pulled off my scratchy wig and the flimsy nylon cap that kept my long hair plastered to my skull. My sticky sweater pulled at my skin as I slowly peeled it off. Thank goodness, my skirt was made of heavy denim or my thighs might have gotten an impromptu waxing.  I turned on the shower, ready to scrub off the sweetness.  

I love my little cottage. I always feel so relaxed and calm when I walk through the door, but not so tonight!  My shower, normally a very efficient way to get clean and get going, was a traitorous cubicle of sensation. The water, so warm and inviting, flowed across my heated skin like a lovers tongue. My mind, still raw from the events of the night, kept up its steady stream of erotic visions as I soaped my body.
Seth
, it kept saying as I mentally slapped myself for not investing in a shower massager. Seth, and his long hair, wet and hanging in messy tangles as he grabbed my… Whoa! 
Okay, Grace, time for the cold portion of this shower!
 Needless to say, I was finished in about one minute. Freezing, I jumped out in favor of the warm terry cloth towel and my favorite robe. I plucked the popcorn from the microwave and sat down in front of the TV for an hour or so of old monster flicks.

The moment I got comfortable, the phone rang.

“Who the hell?”  I mumbled to myself, then shot up and ran for the phone. No one called me at this hour unless something was very wrong.

“Hello?”  I answered on the third ring.

“Miss Allen?” It was a male voice I didn’t recognize.

“Yes, speaking.” I was instantly wary. I’ve never had a strange man call me so late, or
at all
for that matter. He was either a real sicko, or worse- someone telling me a loved one was hurt or dead. 

“I received your number from a friend of yours, Ann. Very lovely, your friend, but not as lovely as you are, I’m told.”

Okay

this was a bit weird. Should I say thank you? I shook my head and dismissed the compliment. “No one calls this late, who is this?” I asked, a small amount of panic lacing my voice. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I need to speak with you regarding a matter that I’m sure will be of great concern to you. I must meet with you tonight. Can you meet me in half an hour?”

“You want me to come to you? Alone? At this time of night, seriously?  You’ve got to be kidding!”  I shrilled, “Who is this? And why are you calling me so late? Has something happened to Ann?”  

“No Miss Allen, I assure you, Ann is quite well. I merely inquired about you and found her to be very accommodating. I can’t tell you what I need, not over the phone, and your friend did mention that you are a bit of a night owl, so I knew you would be awake. I wouldn’t have called, but the situation is of the utmost importance. I had to reach you without delay.”

I felt a mixture of relief for my friend and trepidation for myself. I was also getting a little grumpy at the fact that this man’s voice was standing between my television and me.

“Look, whoever you are, I don’t go traipsing around alone in the wee hours of the morning to meet up with strange men who may or may not be serial killers!  I hardly think anything you have to say could be important enough to put myself in such obvious danger.  So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to hang up now. Good-bye!” I slammed the phone down and took a deep breath.

A second later it rang again.  I picked it up. “Really? What is this shit? Don’t you know what
no
means?  Are you some sort of fucking stalker?”

“Miss Allen, please, you didn’t give me a chance to explain myself,” he said urgently. “Please allow me to get a few words in before you decide to cut me off. In answer to your question; I need to see you in person because I believe you may be in danger. I can’t go into any detail, but I can tell you this, you are being hunted. By what? Well, you would most likely never believe me anyway, however; I need to get you to a safe location so that I may explain to you the urgency of the circumstances.”

Whoa, this guy was off his rocker. “Are you drunk?” I was speeding past annoyed and heading straight for pissed off. “Understand this,” I said slowly, “I am
not
going to meet with you! Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Please Grace, you must listen to me.” He sounded desperate. “Meet me tonight at the church near your home. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be sure to run right over there,” I replied, my sarcasm dripping. Then his words clicked, “Whoa. Hold on. You said the one near
my house
? You know where I live?”

“Never mind that. I told you, your friend was very obliging. You just need to get here. Tonight.”

“Hold on a freaking second. Ann would never give a total stranger my home phone number and especially my address!  What the hell did you do to her? Who the hell are you?” Questions and doubts rolled around in my mind. Did he
have
Ann? Who the hell was this asshole? “Well?” I demanded.

“Lucian, “he said, “My name is Lucian”.

Then the line went dead.  

Shit!

I picked up the phone again. I was so frantic that it took three tries to get Ann’s number correct. Her voicemail picked up on the fourth ring. “Ann, honey, are you home? This is Grace, call me back as soon as you get this!” I waited a few seconds, my voice shaking.  “Ann, please call me as soon as you get this, I don’t care what time it is, I thi…”   The phone cut off.
Damn it to hell!
 I shouted to the ceiling.

I had two choices. One was to go to the church and hope Ann wasn’t there. If she was, then humor this nut-job and get her the hell out of there.  My second choice was to drive the forty miles to her house and bang on her door. That idea would take over an hour to accomplish which could be crucial time I was wasting, so off to church I go.

I ran to my room and pulled on an old pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and some steel-toed boots, just in case I needed to kick some ass. Nothing hurts worse than a steel toe to the balls, or so I’ve been told.

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