Wuthering Frights (25 page)

Our costumes had sucked so bad that we hadn't looked a thing like either Tweedle, so in a last ditch attempt to salvage our dignity, we opted to spell out our characters with iron-on alphabet letters. I couldn't help smiling as I remembered how much fun we'd had while cutting out the letters and arranging them just so. I was in charge of cutting while Sam did the ironing. After a few glasses of wine and too many laughs to count, my "Dee" ended up off center and Sam's "Dum" looked like it was falling downhill, which only made us laugh all the more.

I suddenly was overcome with feelings of depression as I cut out the letters to spell: "Flowertime." I promised myself, then and there, to prove Quill wrong. Nothing could ever get in the way of my friendship with my best friend. Whatever crimes I committed with regards to Melchior would soon be wiped clean from my slate. I promised myself that I would come up with a plan to stop my father and this was just the first step. I had to ensure that the
Draoidheil
never made it to the black market. Because if it did, my father's sovereignty would be guaranteed.

Once I finished ironing the letters onto my shirt, I turned the iron off and set the T-shirt aside to check on my hair. I unwrapped the towel and combed out the long tresses, noticing they looked sort of purple. Either way, purple-black was less Dulcie than honey-gold. I started for the living room again and turned on my computer, opening Microsoft Word as soon as the computer booted up.
When
I was greeted with the blank page, I started typing:

Caressa,

There is a shipment of illegal narcotics coming from the Netherworld scheduled to hit Splendor, Moon, Estuary, Haven and Sanctity. The narcotic is called Draoidheil and it's like nothing you've ever seen before. Immediate addiction. The only way to avoid it is an antidote (I will include two vials of the antidote with this letter for you to distribute to any ANC members involved in busting it). It is very important that you find someone who can recreate the antidote exactly. Once you are able to duplicate it, make as much as you can. Again, this is the ONLY way to avoid the addictive effects of the Draoidheil). The potion is airborne and anyone unlucky enough to inhale it will immediately become addicted. The narcotics will be arriving on May 10th at the following ports and at the following times:

8 pm Splendor: The Loading Docks and The Abandoned Railway Station on the Upper East Side

8:15 pm Moon: The old asylum off Grover St.

8:30 pm Sanctity: The train tracks where Green St. crosses Blue St.

8:45 pm Estuary: The Henderson Tomb in the Briarwood Cemetery

9:00 pm Haven: The abandoned Highgate Theater

I finished the letter by naming all of Melchior's thugs who would be receiving
the
Draoidheil
at each portal station. I also mentioned the Dryads. I thought about telling her that Melchior was behind it all, but then worried that if Caressa didn't already know my father was in charge of the trafficking, she might not act on the information; especially
if she thought it could mean her own personal safety
. I ended the note with:

As soon as you finish reading this letter, please destroy it.

I stood up from my computer and stretched my arms above my head. There wasn't anything more I could do tonight. Tomorrow, I would stop by the florist in downtown Splendor and purchase a bouquet, paying for it with cash so I could remain anonymous. Then I planned to hop through the portal to the Netherworld where I would pretend to be a flower delivery person with an arrangement for Caressa.

I was nervous, the anxiety pumping through my veins ever since I
’d
devised this plan in the first place. But there was no turning back now. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and Caressa was the only person I could turn to. I knew she'd eventually recognize me under my blackish purple hair and overdone makeup. I was betting on it because I needed her to believe the information I told her was accurate and true. And I had to imagine that she would trust me, given the relationship she and I had already built. It wasn't much of a relationship but it had definitely been built on trust. It was everyone else in the Netherworld who I was attempting to hide from, not wanting to be recognized on video surveillance, etcetera.

I was interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing. I glanced at the caller ID and recognized No Regrets, Bram's nightclub.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Sweet," Bram's English accent seemed especially thick tonight. "Are you engaged this evening?"

I figured he was going to make good on the promise I'd made him to allow him to take me to dinner five times in return for serving as my guide in the Netherworld. Unfortunately for me, I still owed him all five dinner dates. More unfortunately for me, Bram had also stipulated that on every date, I was to wear a short dress which was also low cut. If nothing else, Bram was persistent. And as much as I didn't want to have to fend off the advances of the three-hundred-year-old vampire all night, I had nothing else to do.

"No, I'm free," I said, sounding less than thrilled.

"Very good," Bram answered, but seemed to be weighing his words. "I would like you to meet me at No Regrets, sweet."

"We're going to have dinner there?" I asked, surprised because Bram usually seemed only interested in dining in five star restaurants, even though he, himself, never ate a thing.

"No, no, sweet. I am not interested in supper this eve. My request for your companionship has nothing to do with my list of demands; although I do hope you still plan to hold up your end of the bargain?"

"I do," I grumbled.

"Very good, sweet, very good."

It struck me as odd that Bram was requesting my company when there didn't appear to be anything in it for him ...Well, nothing that I could immediately see anyway. "What is this about then?"

He paused for a few seconds, which had to mean something was on his mind. "I prefer to discuss the specifics in person, sweet Dulcie. I will send a vehicle for you."

"I have my bike," I started.

"No," he interrupted. "I prefer your visit be clandestine, sweet."

I was surprised and intrigued, I couldn't help it. "Okay, I'll see you soon then, I guess."

Fourteen

It was only twenty minutes later when Bram's black limo arrived in front of my apartment, chauffeured by a long-haired, bearded werewolf. The were was even dressed in a black suit, white-collared shirt, black tie and a funny little hat that made him look like he just stepped off the Newsies lot. I'd seen the guy previously around No Regrets a few times. I think he also moonlighted as Bram's bodyguard. Why would a vampire need a bodyguard? I had no clue—I think it was mostly for show. It seemed everything Bram did was merely for the sake of doing it.

"Thanks," I said as the were opened the door for me and I seated myself in the plush black leather interior of the limo. I was immediately enveloped by Bram's smell—something slightly exotic and foreign, but captivating all the same.

The ride to No Regrets was quick and silent, which was just as well because I wasn't in the mood for small talk. Instead, I found my thoughts centered on why Bram requested the pleasure of my company this evening and more importantly, why was he being so secretive about it?

I lost track of time and when I felt the limo come to a stop, it didn't even seem like ten minutes had gone by. I smiled my thanks to the were when he opened the door for me and helped
me
out of the limo. Then he escorted me to the back entrance of No Regrets. So Bram hadn't been fibbing when he'd said he wanted my visit to remain secret. And I couldn't even say that it offended me … Nope, I was getting used to skulking in shadows.

I'd used the back entrance of No Regrets a few times when I'd visited Bram in the past (basically when I needed information from him and he
wanted
me kept on the down low) so when the chauffeur bypassed the door and started down the alley abutting Bram's nightclub, I was instantly on high alert.

"Um, isn't it this way?" I asked, motioning to the back door.

The were shook his head and his voice was deep when he spoke. "Bram insisted you enter through the alleyway." Figuring I was relatively safe with the werewolf, since he was in Bram's employ, I followed him into the alley where he paused at the top of a flight of stairs. He glanced back at me as if to make sure I was keeping up and then started down the stairs, which terminated in a nondescript white door. He knocked and the door opened maybe three inches, at which time the were announced Bram had a visitor. Then he turned to face me, gesturing for me to approach. The person on the other side of the door held it open twelve inches wider, expecting me to squeeze my way through. Good thing for me that I was both small in stature and thin, otherwise I wouldn't have made it through.

Once on the other side, it took my eyes a few seconds to get used to the darkness of the room. Although it was nighttime outside, the mo
on was incredibly bright
and now I felt like I’d just been thrown into a pitch-black cave. After a few seconds, my eyes adjusted and I found myself at the end of a long hallway. I could hear the sounds of Rihanna's "Rude Boy" in the distance, raucous laughter punctuating the song.

"This way," the person at the entrance said gruffly. I didn't recognize the thuggish looking guy although I could tell he was a troll of some sort—whether from the Netherworlds of Scandinavia or Britain, I had no clue. He encompassed an enormous amount of space with his head nearly touching the ceiling. It would have, if not for the exaggerated hump on his back that caused him to hunch over to support its massive weight. He looked like a giant with osteoporosis. As if the hump on his back weren't enough to ensure he wouldn't win any beauty contests, he also walked with a limp. It was as if his left side had suffered from a stroke, his foot dragging behind him. All in all, I felt like I was on my way to visit Victor Frankenstein and his lab of horrors, Igor leading the way.

I followed the troll down the darkly lit hallway which T-boned into another corridor. Not only had I never been in this section of No Regrets, I never even knew it existed. Yep, Bram was a sneaky one. We took a left and continued down the passage until we came to a door. The troll whipped out a key ring, which was maybe ten inches wide, and gripping the longest key out of the bunch, unlocked the door, motioning for me to enter. When I did, I found myself in the midst of yet another corridor. I followed the troll when he made a right, suddenly feeling like I was in a maze. I definitely had no idea how to get back out again. The music from the main section of the club now sounded distant and muffled.