Wuthering Frights (2 page)

"Lucky for me," I answered, my lips tight.

He chuckled then and shook his head, eyeing Quillan again almost as if he were embarrassed that Quillan was still sitting there. Then my father faced me and seemed to study me as if he were about to draw a detailed portrait of me. "Your mother was a beautiful woman and you are just as lovely." He paused, as if waiting for me to say, "Ah, gee, thanks, Dad," but when I remained silent, he continued.
"Though she had none of your fire."

That was when I realized the entire time I was making small talk with this jerk, Knight was still imprisoned, subjected to the beatings of the ruthless guards and probably worried that any minute could be his last. The main prison of the Netherworld was no vacation, not by a long shot.

I turned to face Quillan, no longer interested in playing the game of family charades with Melchior. "Get Caressa on the phone," I said in a voice that warned him not to argue with me. "And put her on speaker."

Quillan started to shake his head at the same time that he looked at my father. "Dulce, Caressa can't know you're here."

I nodded. "She won't know I'm here—I won't say a word. I just want to make sure you're really going to call her and that you aren't trying to pull a fast one over on me." I took a deep breath. "And don't call me Dulce. My name is Dulcie," I finished with as much bravado as I could muster. 

"Have you always been so suspicious?" Melchior asked me, his eyebrow raised in an amused sort of way.

I glared at him. "Yes, which is why I've survived this long."

My father said nothing more but turned and nodded at Quillan as if to say putting Caressa on speakerphone was okay. Caressa Brandenburg was the only respectable, high-ranking ANC employee I'd encountered so far in the Netherworld. I knew she'd make damn sure Knight was out of High Prison and on his way back to Earth as soon as Quillan gave her the go ahead. Yep, Caressa was an angel of mercy, as far as I was concerned.

I watched as Quillan faced the rotary phone which looked like it was straight out of the sixties
and a
ny hopes
I had of getting Caressa on speaker phone
flew out the window. That was the weird part
about
the Netherworld—it was almost like a third world country, no modern conveniences. When I'd first met Knight, he'd described the Netherworld as existing in the same spatial plane as Earth. He'd said it was like a cake with layers, the Netherworld being one layer and Earth the layer just above. So even though I was currently in the Netherworld, I was also in the twenty-first century, yet you'd never know it by looking around.

"No speakerphone?" I asked, irritated.

Quillan frowned. "Not everything is as it appears, Dulcie."

He started dialing when my father interrupted him. "Before you dial Caressa," Melchior started as he gave me a nonchalant smile. My heartbeat pounded inside me as if it were still trying to deal with the bewilderment I'd been experiencing for the last ten minutes. 

"Yeah?" Quillan asked. He paused with his index finger pointing aimlessly in the air as he faced my father.

"Then you agree to everything I've laid out for you, Dulcie?" Melchior asked me. His lips were tight and his expression stern.

I swallowed hard as I remembered the bargain I'd made—that I would resume my place as a Regulator for the ANC located in Splendor, California, and Knight would again be my boss. Only this time, I'd also be working for Melchior to make sure his illegal potions made it to Splendor so they could hit the streets and be sold on the black market to thugs, addicts and ... kids. I felt bile climbing up my throat and had to swallow it back down. The only reason I'd agreed to such terms was to save Knightley Vander's life. At the moment, that was all that mattered to me. I promised myself to think of a long-term solution later; but for now, I just had to save Knight.

Knight headed the ANC Splendor branch and he was a good, honest and loyal guy. For reasons unknown to me, he'd been kicked out of the Netherworld and forced to Earth. But when he'd taken the rap for me by pleading guilty to a mistake I'd made, he'd found himself back in the Netherworld. And back in the Netherworld, Knight had been exactly where Melchior wanted him. It was becoming increasingly clear that my father had always wanted Knight Vander dead.

"Yes, as I told you before," I started and faced my father. "If working for you means saving Knight's life, I'll agree to it." I paused. "But that's the only reason I'm agreeing to it. Otherwise I would have told you to go fu ..."

Melchior nodded and interrupted me with a chuckle as he faced Quillan. "Very well," he said and I watched Quillan start dialing the rotary phone again.

I narrowed my eyes at my father, wanting some answers of my own. "What did Knight ever do to you that made you so intent on getting rid of him?"

My father seemed surprised by the question, and his eyebrows lifted. "If the Loki hasn't informed you, then neither shall I."

By Loki, he was referring to Knight—Knight was a Loki, a soldier of the Netherworld forged by the fires of Hades,
the god of the Netherworld
. As to whether Hades had ever existed was anyone's guess. It wasn't like anyone I knew had ever met him—it was just one of those stories that some people believed and others didn't. Sort of like Santa Claus ... well, if you're seven years old.

But back to the fact that my father wasn't going to enlighten me about the issues between my Loki and him ... I guessed I was just SOL.

"Brandenburg, please," Quillan said into the mouthpiece as he faced me and waited for Caressa to pick up. He glanced at my current state of undress and frowned. Then he started unbuttoning his long-sleeved shirt, pulling it down his arms and placing it on the desk. He yanked his white undershirt over his head and the sight of Quillan's beautiful upper body made me look away.

As an elf, Quillan
i
s tall and regal looking with wavy blond hair and hazel eyes. He's definitely a looker and as I mentioned earlier, he was my former boss. Throughout our time together at the ANC in Splendor, I had a crush on him and we even shared a kiss or two. Once I learned he was working for the bad guys, however, I completely clipped him. Sometime after that, I came very close to arresting him
.
I even had him in the sights of my Op 7
but was unable to pull the trigger,
and Quillan escaped. It was all my fault, but Knight took the rap.

Quillan glanced at me and balling up his T-shirt, tossed it over. I caught it midair and nodded my head quickly to say thanks. Pulling the shirt over my head, I smoothed it down around my lithe, five-foot-one frame and found it fit me like a dress. Well, T-shirt dress or not, it was better than standing there with my boobs hanging out of my bra.

"What do you want, Beaurigard?" Caressa's voice rang out and I could only wonder how they managed to rig up the rotary phone into a speakerphone. Must have been magic.

Quillan cleared his throat, apparently ill at ease with the fact that Caressa obviously didn't think much of him. But Caressa must have known he was Melchior's wingman, right? Hmm, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered exactly how much Caressa did know about all the ins and outs of the Netherworld and the illegal potions industry. I mean, how could she be such a highly ranked official and not know?

"I'm calling about Knightley Vander," Quillan answered. 

There was a moment or two of silence on the other end. "Why?" Caressa asked and her voice held much less boldness this time. She was obviously worried about Knight.

"He is to be released immediately," Quillan ordered.

I heard Caressa exhale deeply. "I will see to it personally," she answered and I felt tears well in my eyes, knowing Knight was now safe. Well, as soon as he was in Caressa's custody, he would be safe. Caressa and Knight had worked together when Knight still lived in the Netherworld and they'd become good friends. Really, Caressa had been the only friend Knight had in this godforsaken place.

"You are to accompany him to the portal on Albany Street and he is never to return to the Netherworld," Quillan continued. "If he asks you any questions, Caressa, don't answer. As far as you're concerned, all you were ordered to do was release him. End of story."

"So why the sudden change?" Caressa asked.

Quillan eyed Melchior and my father shook his head as Quillan wrapped the phone cord around his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was hard. "Not something you need to know."

"Okay," Caressa said impatiently. "I gotta go." Before Quillan could respond, she hung up and the blaring of the dial tone rang out through the room.

###

I was finally leaving the Netherworld and although I'd accomplished my mission, and obtained Knight’s release, I couldn't say I felt good. Instead, there was a new cloud hanging over my head—one that kept insisting I'd foolishly sold my soul to the devil. I, Dulcie O'Neil, someone dedicated to fighting crime, had caved and was now one of the bad guys. The thought made me sick every time it crossed my mind.

"How long have you been working for him?" I asked Quillan as he escorted me from ANC headquarters to his company car. It was an old Ford something or other that looked circa 1970."What is this?" I asked, glancing down at the car, suddenly irritated that it felt like I was stuck in a rerun of Grease.

"A 1961 Ford Galaxy Town Victoria," he answered almost sadly. Then he rolled his eyes in an indifferent sort of way, adding, "I fucking hate it." It wasn't lost on me that he really wasn't talking about the car.

"How long have you been working for my father?" I asked again, immediately regretting the brief change of topic. I needed to focus on the facts from here on out, not sideline myself with frivolity. The time for small talk was long gone. Quill opened my door and I seated myself as I watched him close it and then walk around to the driver's side. He opened the door and settled himself before looking over at me.

"The whole time I've known you."

That would be nine years now, since my mother had died. My stomach dropped all the way to my feet. Quillan had been double dealing from the first time I
'd
stepped foot through the double doors of the ANC headquarters and asked how
one became
a Regulator. Throughout our entire acquaintance, he'd been pretending to be something he wasn't. But I couldn't focus on that anymore. What I needed to concentrate on was what the hell I was going to do about the mess I was now in. Because staying in this mess wasn't an option.

"But how long have you been working for my father in total?" I asked, rephrasing the question.

Quillan started the car and it hummed loudly, sounding only a hiccup away from stalling. "Nearly fifteen years." He put the car in drive as we started out of the parking lot. I wasn't sure what time it was, but the nascent blue of early morning was just starting to tickle the horizon, pushing the navy blue cloak of night aside.

Something occurred to me and echoed through my entire being. "Did you know I was his daughter when you hired me?" I asked hollowly, wondering if that was the reason I was offered the position of Junior Regulator in the first place. I hoped the answer was no, because if I felt proud about anything, it was how good I was at my job. And furthermore, I absolutely detested the concept that I was given special treatment merely because I was the daughter of the Head of the Netherworld.

"Yes, I've always known," Quillan answered, but refused to look at me. He glanced to his right and left briefly before starting down the street. "Your father kept strict surveillance over you your entire life." He paused and then added, "You are his only child."

I shook my head and felt a knot starting in my stomach. I couldn't even concentrate on
the fact that
my father
had been
aware of my comings and goings all along—it seemed almost meaningless in its immense depth. Instead, I merely catalogued it in my already overwhelmed mind for future exploration. At this point, I was still wondering how much my father had done to promote me in the ANC. I faced Quillan's profile. "Did he tell you to hire me?"

"Dulcie ..." Quillan started and offered me a discouraging look.

"Did he tell you to hire me?" I demanded again, my voice slightly more emphatic.

Quillan merely nodded as I dropped my gaze to my lap and tried to staunch the tide of disappointment that was currently filling me.