My phone rang, sending off the beating classical of my grandson’s favorite artist, Mason Bates. I listened for a moment to the mix of electronica and orchestra before answering. “Hi.”
“Don’t ‘hi’ me! Z, what are you thinking? Why did you run away?”
“I didn’t, actually. It’s quite a story.” And if I told him, that would make the decision for me. But I still debated on if that was the answer I wanted. I wasn’t quite ready to give up the search, but with only three years left and the body of an eight-year-old, I couldn’t really go traipsing all over the world anymore. “Why not come over? I’ll make some cookies for the kids and we can have a quiet family night tonight.”
“Family night,” I could almost imagine his arms tossing up in frustration. “Z, seriously, do you know how worried I’ve been all day?”
“And you were right to worry, but I’ll explain more when you get here.”
“Grandma, is it that you don’t want to live with us, because if that’s the case—”
“Will you stop? Just come over. Even if it’s just you, come over and spend a little time with your grandma. Who knows, maybe I’ll head back with you.”
He made a few more disgruntled comments, but I could hear him moving in the background.
“Should I have cookies ready?” I asked sweetly.
“No, it’ll just be me. Valentina took the kids out to a movie this evening, but I’ve been scouring the city.”
Now I really did feel bad. “I’m sorry, Jake. I promise I’ll explain.”
He sighed, and twenty minutes later I heard a knock at the front door. It was my turn to grumble as I answered. “You know you shouldn’t speed. It’s dangerous!”
Jake grinned, a shadow of his old self. Then his eyes lifted from his phone and his jaw dropped. “Grandma!”
“What?” I glanced behind, half-expecting to see Creepo standing behind me with his empty gun again. “What’s wrong?”
“Grandma!” He repeated, grabbing my face between his hands and dropping his eight-hundred-dollar phone to the welcome mat below him. “What happened? How did this happen?”
“What are you talking about?” My face was scrunched between his palms.
“Don’t joke with me! Is this why you hid? Did the potion somehow wear off and—You have teeth!” He squished my face in a new direction to stare in awe at my mouth full of non—denture teeth.
“Yeah,” I tried to laugh off his abuse and finally back peddled into the room pulling him along with me by the sheer force of his hands squished my cheeks. “Can you let go?”
“You have boobs!” The fifty-year-old man practically yelled.
My face heated and I couldn’t help slamming the door a little too hard behind him. “Will you shut up?”
“Is it reversing?” He became suddenly serious, dropping my face and stepping back to get a good look at me.
I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny. The need to find a mirror warred with my growing concern that something was wrong. Turning, I rushed for the closest bathroom and gawked.
“I’m older!”
Jake stared at me from the doorway. “Much older. I’d say you gained at least six years from yesterday.”
I turned sideways, running my hands down my sides and pulling my shirt a little tighter. Yeah, about fourteen.
“Okay.” His smile faded a bit as his eyes met my reflection’s. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”
My thoughts twisted immediately to Creepo. “Oh my gosh.”
Jake watched my reaction, then guided me back toward the living room and our favorite couch. “Z? Grandma? What’s going on?”
“Okay, but first, you have to swear not to overreact?”
“It’s not like I’m your father, now spill.”
“Okay, last night, you left the card for that occult dealer. I went there.”
“You what?” he roared. “You were eight years old?! Do you have any idea how many ways that could have gone wrong?”
I lifted one finger and waited for his wrath to die down. “I got to the bar, but Rick wasn’t there. They tossed me out onto the street on my rear end, and I got onto the bus to come home.”
“That sounds ominously uneventful.”
I couldn’t help but grin. He knew me too well. “Across from me on the bus, this creepy guy in his forties just watched me.”
Jake dropped his head into his hands, shaking it. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I got home, locked myself into the house and breathed a giant sigh of relief.”
“And then?”
“And then I went to sleep.” I grinned again, loving to torture the poor boy.
Jake glared at me, brows lowering like I’d seen him do to his daughter when she tried the same thing. Sadly, it had no effect on me. I taught that trick to his father.
“And?” he finally prompted.
“And I woke up in the morning, felt a tad bit older, and noticed I suddenly had teeth.”
“What, just like that?” He drew back, hand rubbing down his face in concern. “So, it finally wore off. I guess I’m kind of glad, but at the rate of aging, you’ll be back where you started in a few weeks.”
“No, I don’t think so.” I stood and walked a circle, mind spinning as I did. “See, Creepo was here. In fact, I heard you and Valentina come, but I couldn’t call out to you for two reasons.”
“What?” His eyes widened to a whole new level of aghast fear. “Z!”
“Yeah, just listen.” I settled again, patting his hand. “He popped out of nowhere right in my room right after I got dressed. He wanted to make some kind of deal—live with me until my parents got back and that’s it. You can imagine my response.”
“You ran.”
“I broke his nose, kneed him in the groin, and almost made it out the door except it took too dang long to get it open.”
“And?” His muscles were tense, eyes completely focused on me.
“And then I passed out. He said something to me before it happened, but I can’t remember what. He did this to me, but I couldn’t tell you how. He didn’t hit me, he barely even had a hand on me. When I woke up, he had me tied to one of the guest beds with a gun pointed toward me. You and Valentina were out in the hall searching for me. I didn’t dare make a sound.”
Jake’s face turned a dark shade of purple-red.
“As soon as you guys left, he told me the gun was empty and said he’d make a new deal with me. That he’d ‘taken’ everything he needed from me, and he’d disappear now. All I had to promise was that I wouldn’t tell anyone what he looked like.”
“What did he look like?” Jake leaned a little closer, intense eyes boring into me with an almost feral light.
“Dark hair, a little longer than yours. He had an olive complexion, like maybe Egyptian in genetic descent. His face was oval and a little long, well, actually, it was long the first time I saw him, but a little rounder and younger the second time.”
Jake’s splotchy face paled a bit, returning to an almost normal color by chance. “He’s not human.”
“That’s kind of what I’m starting to think,” I nodded. “But now I’m a little afraid that he’s disappeared on me.”
“You can’t be serious.” Jake’s head shook and he stood this time, pacing in a similar circle. “He’s got to be a succubus.”
That made so much more sense than vampire. I felt like slapping myself in the head. In a handful of minutes, he’d taken, or really, added, two extra years to my life by aging me six. I had about five years to live now. Plenty of time, hopefully, to find him again and make a deal.
“Grandma.” Jake’s tone warned me long before his stern disapproval. “You can’t do this. The guy broke into your house and stole your life. He had no idea that you’d regain it. He is a murderer, or worse, a thief of the most valuable and irreplaceable commodity.”
“Not for me.” I felt more sure by the minute. “And besides, he could have just killed me, but he didn’t. I get the feeling that he targeted me because I was young and a loner.”
“Oh, that makes it all better then.” He knelt, setting himself even with my seated form. “Z. Consider. Please. This is not a good idea.”
“I have five years to live. Really, four if you consider that I’ll barely be able to walk for the last one.”
“Five years is better than what he might do to you. If he really is a succubus, he’s a soulless, vampiric entity.”
“Stop reading fantasy novels.” I shook my head and stood. “Okay, so I think I’m okay to stay at my home for another year or so. Hopefully in that time I’ll find him. If not, I’ll move in with you when I turn ten.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Jake stood as well. “I love you grandma. I can’t handle watching something terrible happen to you. I carry enough guilt with me that I gave this to you without thinking it through.”
“Well don’t.” I glared right back up at him, though the one-foot gap between our heights today was half of what it had been yesterday. That thought brought me giddy relief. “Go find your wife and children and spend the rest of the night enjoying their company.”
He did look a lot better now that he’d heard the tale, and he didn’t insist that I move in with him immediately, which I found a bit surprising. I led him to the door and watched until he’d settled into his car and started to back down the driveway.
I’ll admit that falling asleep was a bit more difficult than usually. I kept hearing the creak of the house and the sounds of the night and my heart would start to thunder unnecessarily. Which amused me, given that Creepo’s theft of my years was actually a good thing. Still, the idea that he had so easily done it didn’t settle well. Eventually, exhaustion won and I slept deep and long.
My search began the next day. After a quick sketch of the man to remind me of the details, I filled my morning and afternoon with chores and preparations. One bus trip later, I stood in front of the familiar cover for Rick’s occult interactions. Box was at the door again, staring hard at me in that way bouncers have.
“Hey Box,” I greeted with a smile.
The club had just started hopping and a small line trailed down the face of the dilapidated building, slipping back into an alleyway on the building’s left side. I noted a lump where people didn’t quite hug the wall. A pair of old boots attached to a sleeping (or perhaps dead) vagrant explained the situation for me. Being an appreciator of peer-mentality behavioral changes, it amused me that no one paid the bum any mind as they filtered forward, their conversations focused on how many of the group would drive home together and how many expected to find alternative accommodations for their hangovers.
I slipped forward to verify my assumption. Despite the smell and a few outraged protests at the thought that I might be trying to cut in line, I got close enough to judge the lack of breathing. I didn’t actually touch him, no sense in that, and hurried back to the front.
“Uh, did you know there’s a dead guy against the wall?”
Box finished letting in a pair and slipped the rope back in place. It seemed to take all of his attention because his brow didn’t lower until he turned to face me. “What?”
“A dead guy. A body. The bum was here yesterday, in the exact same spot. I just checked and he’s dead.”
“Dead?” he repeated as if commenting on a bad color choice for the kitchen.
“Should I call the police? I mean, they’ll probably want to know.”
Confusion shifted immediately to concern. The giant man pushed open the door behind him, disappearing into the music-infused, darkened doorway. I followed dutifully, ‘just in case’ they needed additional details.
Once inside, my eyes scanned the press of bodies while trying to adjust to the strobe and dim lights. Really, it wasn’t a bad club. A massive dance floor dominated the open space between a raised DJ’s stand and a semi-circle of booths and tables. A few cages hung in the rafters along the same semi-circle as the floor’s edge, connected by caged catwalks. I noted a line of people waiting there as well, taking turns in the cage. The far three walls of the club were not walls, but curtained, partitioned areas all blocked from sight. I supposed anyone could find what they wanted here.
Box paused next to the edge of the bar, one of three spaced around the room. He shouted above the music. “Hey, where’s Rick?”
Oh, this could be good.
No comments:
Post a Comment