Obumbrate (7 page)

He nodded, completely nonchalant about it. "It's a private demon, someone who's hired personally, like a mortal PI. They're called Venator Privatus, but we just call them the Vens." Scratching his head, he nibbled on a side of his lower lip for a moment. "There's usually two symbols on their sleeves. One is the heart, that shows they're Vens, and the symbol underneath tells you who's hired them."

So someone had hired a Vens to capture me? What, were we in some communistic society where you could pluck someone off the street and no one question you? I marveled in horror at the thought. Running a hand through my short hair, I tried to think what Kayden would say if we were both stuck in this predicament.

Wait a minute. Why did I need to know what Kayden would do? I was my own person, after all, wasn't I? Did I not have the ability to make my own choices in life? I didn't need someone to lead me by the hand and decide what I needed to do. I would be strong, and stand up for myself. This was my destiny, and I would take it head on.

I seized the first idea that came to mind and spoke. "You have a name?"

"Darren."

"Alright Darren, how about do me one more favor and then I'll vanish from your hair, er, horns," I amended, staring at the rapidly evolving cones on his face. More purple spikes had started to protrude from his face, forming half circles around his ears like decorative piercings. "With this being such a high-supernatural region, I'm sure there's a portal nearby."

He nodded again. "There's two. One at the local club, Sphynx, but that doesn't open until nightfall. The second," he trailed off, then looked down away from my gaze. "I can't take you to."

"Why?"

"It's in my boss' office." His face looked strained. "He'd freak if I let someone use it- it's supposed to be private."

"Private shmivate. I know the family that owns control over all of them, and their son." I refused to say Leo's name aloud, worried it might start a wave of emotion I couldn't control. Instead, I transferred my possible sadness into anger. My gaze narrowed to thin slits. "Denying me access could revoke his right to even have the portal. You wouldn't want me to report your boss, would you?"

Darren's eyes widened, and I swear I saw him flinch in fear. His voice was barely audible. "He'd fire me, banish me from the quarter." It didn't take long for the resolve to form in his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'll do it. Quickly, though, before he comes back from his luncheon."

I nodded and followed him through the double doors leading to the back half of the diner. The kitchen appeared as if it was in anarchy, food flying left and right as two men with seven hands each tried furiously to keep up with different orders. Timers blared left and right, pots bubbling over the lids as several other bodies scrambled to put plates in order and serve them out.

"Guess it was a good thing I didn't order food?" I joked over the noise, following Darren through the kitchen to a mahogany door at the end.

Over the sound of someone swearing in a guttural language, he laughed. "Not to shoot my boss in the foot, but I wouldn't eat here if I could help it." He fashioned out a little brass key to unlock the door, swinging it open and gesturing to me. "Ladies first."

Following him inside, he shut the door, sealing all the noise out with it. I turned on a table lamp for a little more light. The office had no windows, no real natural light to open up the room. The carpet beneath us reeked of mold, the walls cold and damp to the touch. Sparse furniture of a desk, chair, and bookcase were the only three things in the room.

Darren motioned to the bookcase. "This is it. But I don't know what one opens the switch."

I came to stand in front of the shelf, running my eyes over the covers and spines. Most of the books looked ordinary; self-help, succeeding in business, some on supernatural beings and identifying factors. But one small, cobalt blue book stood out against the rest. Just like the one at the bookshop Leo used to own.

I looked over my shoulder and gave Darren a wink. "I've got it from here, no worries."

He nodded, offering me a small smile. "Before you go, some advice?"

"Yeah?"

"Be wary," he said, something in his tone instantly worrying me. "You're stepping into the lion's den unprotected."

I had to laugh; was everyone going to tell me what I already knew? It had been clear early on that I would spend the rest of my life alone, fighting to stay in one breathing, living piece.

"Please, give me some credit," I replied with a smirk. "You ever seen what these hands can do?"

He fumbled for words, but I didn't give him a chance to answer. Stepping into the light, gravity tossed me through the portal, landing me in the middle the last place I'd ever expect to be.

CHAPTER FOUR

A LIFETIME OF YESTERDAYS

I was pretty sure I landed on a body.

Everything around me was dark, a bottomless pit with no light. For a moment I had thought for sure I had gotten lost to the time space continuum or some awkward conundrum, when something beneath me moved. And groaned. 

"Jipskie, what the gravy-and-potatoes are you doing?" The body, a male judging by the voice, hissed. "Are you supposed to be on?"

"What the hell is a Jipskie?"

The person stopped moving. "...
who the hell are you?
"

"I could ask you the same thing!" I started to squirm, catching my shoulders on the sides of the small and cramped space we were stuck in. "Stupid portal and it's stupid faulty crap-"

"Stop it! Hey, knock it off! You're going to break it!" He sounded fearful. Hands clumsily came into contact with my face as he tried to stop me from wiggling around.

"Break what?" I managed to get out before the door burst open. A blast of lights clouded my view as we tumbled onto the floor in a mess of limbs and fabric.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Blinking, my vision started to clear, putting me face-to-face with at least a dozen people all in various stages of attire. Crowds of people carrying props, dabbing on makeup, and marking the floor in chalk hurried by our group huddled in the middle, unmoving. A rich, burgundy velvet curtain hung behind all of them, but did little to dull the noise of a growing crowd anticipating a good show.

Oh crap. I was on a stage.

"Well?" The same guy who had asked what was going on snapped. He had tan, olive colored skin covered in bursts of black polka dots, and eyes a shimmering ocean green that matched perfectly to the ruffled blouse he wore. Placing hands on his hips, he glared. "Tusk, who's your lovely little companion and why is she intruding on my show?"

I had almost completely forgotten I wasn't alone. Half-buried in the waves of multi-colored fabric surrounding us sat a boy. He looked no younger than a teenager with his wide, open violet eyes and smooth pink lips, his hair a shocking mess of black and silver spikes sprouting from his head.

The boy, Tusk, spoke in a panicked rush. "I don't know, sir. I was just getting into the cabinet for my scene when she appeared from thin air!"

"I thought all portals had designated locations?" Speaking up, I started to peel off the various heaps of fabric weighing me to the floor. "You know, solid bases so people could come and go as needed?"

Overly-flamboyant man snapped his fingers, which I noticed were more like claws than actual human digits. "You used Frederick's portal, I see." He let out an irritated huff, rolling his eyes in maximum drama queen style. "I thought I had gotten through to his thick skull that he can't use it for the next eight weeks!" 

Eight weeks? I thought about asking him why it had to be eight weeks, when it sort of occurred to me that I didn't exactly need to know. Or hear his sob story about how some riffraff was disgracing his preparing performance. Getting to my feet, I ignored the widening eyes and small gasps few had tried to contain over seeing my appearance.

"My stars, you're that, that," one of the female stage performers started to sputter. Her lips curled into a sneer just as she found breath. "That
Nephilim
from the circus!"

My face blanched. Eyes either narrowed in disgust or widened in shock as recognition crossed their faces. "Well, trust me when I say I have no intentions of bothering you past this. Err, break a leg?" I offered the colorfully dressed man an awkward handshake and tried not to flinch while touching his clammy claws. Shuffling past him and the rest of the frozen pack, I quietly slipped out the nearest exit and onto the streets of Charon.

Two weeks hadn't been enough time to wash away the mesmerizing effect the place still had on me. Like marbleized version of Tokyo, Charon held the appearance of an ethereal palace, a serene setting stretching into a never-ending horizon. Tall, intimidating towers of sparkling pearl and creamy white ascended into the skies above, clouds their only neighbors. Even below on the ground it sparkled, homes of all shapes and sizes the same smooth and cool marble as above. If fairytales had a home, this is the place I would have imagined they'd all join together.

My heart still called out to the decadent beauty, like a lonely soul would to its other half. I knew deep down I belonged here, belonged with the faeries and demons and whatever else existed in the magical end of things. It's just that I never felt welcome.

I stared down both ends of the street in search of a street sign, anything to tell me what and where I was. Instead, I was greeted with cold grey buildings. I found it odd; all of the buildings I had seen before in Charon were sparkling white, a glimmering marble like none other. Yet every building on this street was a light, bitter grey. It was almost as if the buildings were dirty and needed a good scrub.

I made my way down the street, doing my best to appear as non-creepy as possible while checking inside windows for signs of life. Most of the homes had their curtains drawn, and the few that didn't were vacant. I sighed. Looked like I would be on my own.

Gazing up to the overcast sky, I tried to spot something to help direct me to the main strip I knew. Sure enough, there in the sky at due east stood a tall pillar, a scaffold of white nearly blinding. I turned down various streets, making sure to keep the pillar in sight, watching it grow closer. As I got closer to the tall tower, I noticed the buildings began to lighten too, what little pigment of grey turning into a brilliant, dazzling white. People started appearing from thin air, chatting animatedly on freshly tailored lawns or walking down the street towards the same direction I was headed.

Flashbacks from the first time I had set foot in Charon washed over me, and it wasn't long before the my heart thumped painfully in my chest. The first time I had seen the buildings I had pinched myself, waiting for the dream to end.

A sharp jab in my gut reminded me this wasn't a dream, that I was very much awake and alive. My fingers gently pulled back a corner of my shirt, revealing a bigger wound that hadn't been there before. Inside my stomach twisted, nausea rolling over me as I spotted the splotches of yellow and green marring my skin. The wound was spreading, the tenderness now extending all the way up to under my chest. At this rate, I'd have a couple hours before it would kill me, tops.

Tugging my shirt back down and biting back a whimper, I continued forward. Familiar tawny cobblestones appeared under my feet, and before I knew it I had found the main street of Charon. I spotted an all-too familiar sign for a pub and ducked inside. If any place was going to help me in my search, a pub certainly would. Inside, purple and yellow banners for a performance decorated the walls, and I instantly recognized the model as the flamboyantly dressed man from the stage.

"They say his rendition is going to be the best in the last three-hundred years." I turned to see a girl standing next to me, pointing at the poster. At first glance, she looked completely average and human, until you looked in her eyes. Cats eye and icy blue, it was the only thing that gave away her inhuman genetics. The rest of her was normal, from the long elegant blonde hair and fair, pale skin. "Did you get a ticket?"

"I'm not much of a theater gal," I replied, looking back at the poster. Aside from the man standing up front, two people stood in the back, hands clasped together. Both had a display of elegant, white feathered wings. "What's it about?"

"
Chant du Cygne
? It's tragic, really, but we always consider it a comedy," said the girl. "It's about a pair of Nephilim that fall in love, but the one is slain by a demon before they can perform the bonding ritual."

My gut twisted, but I wasn't sure if it was from the demon poison spreading inside of me or the image of a demon slaying me that did it. "Why does the demon slay them? Why not let them exist elsewhere in their happiness?"

She laughed, but it was sad. "In this world, no one can be happy. It's always kill or be killed."

"Sounds about right." We stood in silence for about a minute, both gazing at the banner with minimal interest. If it hadn't been for the tick-tock of the clock reminding me that I was one step closer to dying, I wouldn't have bothered to move. "Say, you don't happen to know-"

"Where to find a cure for demon poison?" She finished my sentence without pause. I froze; how did she know what was wrong with me? Tapping her nose, he answered my unspoken question. "I can smell it. My guess is you got on the wrong side of something nasty, judging by the poison used."

"I'm going to ignore the level of creepiness that just happened and be straightforward. Where can I find a remedy for this?"

She shook her head, small tresses of her blonde hair swaying over her shoulders. "You won't be able to put the salve on yourself. Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?"

My mouth opened to say yes, until I remembered the bodies I had left behind in New York, let alone the Vens I had burned to a crisp. "I'll figure something out."

"So that's a no."

"Fine. No, I don't have somewhere to stay."

The girl nodded thoughtfully. "I have a small place close to the border, you're more than welcome to stay while the salve draws out the poison."