A Tale of Two Goblins Page 10

  I nodded. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

  She seemed to hesitate for a second or two, her lips clenched. “Can I offer some unsolicited advice?” Dia began and I glanced up at her in surprise.

  “Shoot.”

  She took another few seconds to collect her thoughts. “I used to have a cockatiel named Tweety, and I loved that bird. He was bright yellow with orange spots on his head and he used to whistle every time I came home.” She had this far away sort of expression on her face, like she was living a totally different time.

  “Um, that’s a nice story, Dia, but what does that have to do with anything?” I asked, not meaning to sound so brusque.

  She didn’t seem to hear me or if she did, she didn’t care but just continued her story. “This bird would sing constantly and I used to love to listen to him. I had him for thirteen years which is a really long time for a cockatiel to live, you know?”

  I didn’t but anyway…

  “Then one day he passed away from a heart attack and it just broke my heart.” She glanced at me and it looked like she was waiting for me to respond but the problem was, I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked, frowning.

  “Even though I miss that bird now, I had thirteen years of love, Dulcie, and even though it hurts to think of him now, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change anything because it was better to have loved him and lost him than never to have had him at all.”

  I nodded, sort of figuring where she was going with all of this. But, I didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t know what your background is and I don’t know why you wear that shield up wherever you go,” she said and her gaze was so piercing, I felt like she was seeing through me. “But, I do know you’re a good person and deserve to love someone like I loved Tweety.”

  “Thanks,” I started but she held up her hand as if to say she wasn’t yet finished.

  “And I also don’t know much about Mr. Vander other than the fact that he is just gorgeous on a stick but I know he cares about you—I can see it in his eyes. And you’d be making a big mistake if you didn’t take a chance with that one.”

  “You definitely don’t know Knight,” I said, a myriad of reasons why he wasn’t a good idea bubbling through my mind.

  “I know enough to know when you’re trying to talk yourself out of something, Girl, and you just want to make sure you aren’t missing out on a Tweety.”

  The truth of it was that I wasn’t sure Tennyson was right when he’d said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I’d loved and lost and I could honestly say it was better to let the assholes go and break some other dumbass’s heart than risk mine again.

  Tweety be damned.

  Seven

  So, I’d spent the rest of the day and night in the hospital and it had been a major bitch. At least Knight had been true to his word and rather than Trey showing up with a stack of library books, Knight had come by later in the afternoon with an iPad, complete with Nook and Kindle apps. I hadn’t wanted to accept such an expensive gift but it was necessary to learn more about the Dreamstalker so we could fight him on level ground. So, I swallowed my pride and became an ereader owner.

  And I’d spent my time in the hospital researching the dream state and what I’d learned was encouraging. In order to maintain control of my dreams, I’d have to enter what was termed the “lucid dream” state which meant my sleeping mind would be aware that it was, in fact, sleeping. If I could inform my body that it was dreaming, I could manipulate the dream in my favor, aka I could control my sleeping mind. And I had to imagine this control would be pivotal in defeating the Dreamstalker. The only part that was less than ideal was the fact that lucid dreaming took practice and unfortunately for me, I was SOL where practice was concerned because I wouldn’t allow myself to sleep. But, I had to admit things were looking up—I had an option and options were important things to have.

  While I’d been recuperating and learning all there was to know about lucid dreaming, Knight, Trey and Dia had been scouting the hospital, checking on Anna, Jenny, Sam and me while also searching for any sign of the Dreamstalker. Of course, there hadn’t been so much as a peep from our enemy.

  I’d managed to sleep for an hour and a half, courtesy of Dia and even though it wasn’t much, I felt incredibly refreshed. Moreover, I wasn’t sure if I’d actually slept while the Dreamstalker had attacked me but based on the fact that I basically sleepwalked myself into an accident, I had to imagine the answer was a resounding no.

  The hospital had discharged me the following morning and Knight had been there to pick me up and take me home. He’d tried incredibly hard to make a case for me living with him for the time being but I’d flatly declined, saying as long as I stayed awake, I’d be fine. Besides, I had lots of things to do—the first thing on my list being a new set of wheels. I couldn’t afford to be without a vehicle.

  Even though my savings account had now become embarrassing, I shelled out six thousand dollars for a used bright red Suzuki DL 650 motorcycle with only five thousand miles on it. It probably sounds crazy that I’d buy a street bike after barely surviving the car accident with the Wrangler but what it came down to was the fact that I didn’t have much money and I had even less time. My neighbor had sold me the bike with the promise that he’d fix it if anything broke. It was a deal good enough and easy enough for me so I took it. Besides, motorcycles were faster escape-vehicles than cars…so there.

  While I was happy to be out of the hospital and though I felt slightly rested thanks to Dia and finally had a mode of transportation again, I wasn’t exactly happy with what I had to do next. While I’d been immobile in the hospital bed, I’d wracked my brain over and over again trying to come up with an alternative—trying to think of any option other than the one I was seriously considering. But, I was fresh out of options and time was ticking by, leaking minutes and seconds. And I couldn’t afford to lose even a split second.

  Anna Murphy had died. Knight had informed me on the way to my house after I’d been discharged from the hospital. And it hadn’t mattered that Dia had been scouting the perimeter of the hospital, she’d never detected the Dreamstalker. Knight said it looked as if Anna’s death might have been due to complications with her heart, and that he wasn’t sure the Dreamstalker had come for her but I wasn’t convinced.

  Heather had been the first to go and now Anna was the second. I could only imagine a pattern was emerging here and Jenny Garrity, my favorite childhood nanny would be next. After her, it would be Travis and Mrs. Mickelson and then…Sam.

  Judging from the time when Heather and Anna became comatose to the point at which they died, we figured that Jenny Garrity had a matter of days to live, Travis and Mrs. Mickelson had maybe four or five days and Sam had about a week.

  Sam was dying.

  That was the realization that had hit me like the breath of a Kraken. I’d visited her after I’d been discharged and to say she hadn’t looked good was an understatement. Her breathing was shallow and dark circles hung from her eyes, pointing to the fact that although she appeared to be happily slumbering away, she wasn’t. She was fighting the hold of the Dreamstalker and by her appearance, I would have bet he was winning. That told me I was running out of time. I had to get this guy and I had to get him now.

  The one problem interfering with my mission was the fact that I was exhausted. Granted I’d had a little over an hour of rich and glorious sleep but it wasn’t enough. I could already feel exhaustion seeping into my bones, making my response times slower, my brain power slower…me slower.

  And a slow response time wouldn’t help me—not when Sam only had a week left to live. That meant I had to hunt this asshole down and kill him before he killed her. And the kicker of the whole equation was that I wasn’t going to be able to defeat a Dreamstalker if I were a sleep zombie. I had to be alert and level headed.

  Luckily for me, there was a solution to my probl
em. Unluckily for me, that solution happened to be Gargoyle’s Mandrake potion—a narcotic that had gained extreme popularity with college kids due to the fact that it meant a human or Netherworld creature could live for weeks on end without sleeping. And the user wouldn’t suffer any of the fatigue of not sleeping—they operated as if on a high—energetic and vibrant. The appeal to the college students was pretty obvious—more partying and more time for studying. What users hadn’t counted on, though, was the fact that Gargoyle’s Mandrake was incredibly addictive and those with weak temperaments could end up addicted to it forever. I’d seen kids in homes who were going through withdrawals and it hadn’t been pretty—some of them never fully recovered. Needless-to-say, Gargoyle’s Mandrake was illegal. The ANC had seen to that over two years ago.

  Yes, I’d refuted the idea as soon as it had birthed itself in my head—yes, I’d searched for every other possibility and no, I hadn’t found one. Much though I hated the very idea, what it came down to was the fact that Sam’s life was at stake. And in cases of life and death, we did things we otherwise wouldn’t, things we’d otherwise detest.

  I had come to terms with the fact that I was going to inhale Gargoyle’s Mandrake as soon as I could get my hands on some. Was I afraid that I’d succumb the way others had? No. I would take it for a few days at the most and then I’d lock myself away and deal with the withdrawals, if I even experienced any. I didn’t possess an addictive personality so I wasn’t one of those people who would be in the exceptional risk category. I’d do what I had to do and then I’d be done with it. And Sam, Jenny, Travis and Shirley would all be the better for it. End of story.

  Now that my mind was made up, I had to figure out where to procure the illegal narcotic. There were times in my life when I realized just how helpful it was to have a hand in the ANC and this was one of those times. As a Regulator, I’d had to run investigations into the various dealers in our district and although I’d been out of practice for a while now, I knew where to go and who to ask for more information…Bram.

  As I mentioned before, Bram wasn’t quite one of the bad guys but he definitely wasn’t one of the good guys—he dwelt somewhere in the nether regions in between. But, one thing he’d always been good for were useful leads…he’d scratch my back and I’d scratch his. And now I definitely had a big itch that had to be scratched—I needed Bram to tell me where I could find Quillan.

  #

  No Regrets was always packed. It was a night club, bar none—if you wanted to see and be seen, you went to No Regrets. And luckily for Bram, he owned it.

  I pulled into the lot and found a small space just beside the front door where I left the Suzuki. I took off my helmet and wedged it beneath my arm as I started for the door, waving to Nick, the bouncer who also happened to be an ogre. He waved back and gave me the go ahead to bypass everyone else in line. It was good to have friends in high places and even better to have friends who owned those high places.

  Once inside, it took my eyes a second to adjust to the darkness of the club, a periodic strobe light highlighting the patrons. The sounds of Timbaland’s “The Way I Are” pounded through my ears and I actually felt myself relaxing. I mean, who didn’t love that song?

  I pushed through a throng of dancers, my fairy ability of creature detection like a Jack Russell in a room full of rats. Weres, vamps and demons partied alongside humans which was an absolute recipe for disaster; but one thing I could say for Bram, he didn’t tolerate fights. When I’d worked the ANC, I’d never had any issues with No Regrets.

  I wound my way through the crowd, searching for Bram’s tall person but not finding him, I plopped my helmet on the bar and waved to Angela. Seeing her didn’t hit me the way I thought it might. No, now that I knew Knight wasn’t truly interested in her, I actually felt sorry for her more than anything else. Of course, Angela was a strong woman so she probably knew what was up, especially if Knight had spelled it out for her as clearly as he claimed he had.

  “Dulcie! What can I do for you?” she asked with a wide smile. Her hair was purple tonight and with her black bra and tight black leather miniskirt, she looked like a Goth princess.

  “Hi Angela,” I started and glanced around for Bram again. “Do you know where Bram is?”

  Angela nodded. “He’s in the back.” She seemed somehow nervous and eyed the growing crowd at her bar warily before turning to the back of the club again. “I’ll just go let him know you’re here.”

  I got her gist.

  I held up my hand dismissively and started toward the rear of No Regrets. “Don’t worry about it, Angela. If he’s with a woman, I really don’t care.”

  She laughed and it was a laugh that said she appreciated the fact that I was a woman who wouldn’t be played. I hoped I could say the same for her.

  “He’ll care though,” she said and stepped around the bar, offering me a knowing smile. “You know how he is where you’re concerned.”

  I just shook my head and allowed her to warn Bram that I was about to interrupt whatever the hell he’d been doing. I leaned against the bar and felt myself swaying to Kesha’s “Tik Tok.” Well, one thing I could say for Bram was he had awesome taste in music.

  “Holy shit.”

  I glanced up at a were who was regarding me with hunger in his eyes. He was maybe six feet tall and thick across the chest and thighs, like most weres were. His hair was long and on the scruffy side and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He was okay looking, I guessed, but definitely not my type…a little too unkempt.

  “Where the hell have you been all my life?” he demanded, eating me up with his eyes from head to toe.

  I didn’t bother responding, since I wanted nothing to do with the dumbass. Guys like him were the ones that gave men a bad name—just jerks who thought they could walk up to any woman and she’d drop her panties without so much as a hello.

  I glanced behind me, wondering what the hell was taking Bram so long. There wasn’t any motion in the hallway so I turned back around to find the were had been joined by his buddy, another were.

  “Look what I found,” Were One said to Were Two and pointed at me like he’d just located his missing backpack.

  Were One took a step closer to me and I gave him an icy stare, daring him to come any closer. “Back off,” I hissed.

  “She’s got attitude,” Were Two said in disgust but Were One smiled, apparently taking my less than thrilled greeting as a challenge. He took another step closer to me.

  “I like to train ‘em,” he said and snickered at me. “Teach her who’s boss.” He reached out and grazed the side of my face with his finger. There was dirt underneath his fingernail.

  I was fast—faster than I thought I would have been considering I was operating on an hour and half of sleep. Before the bastard could say “uncle”, I had his arm behind his back…painfully.

  “You ask me before you touch me, got it?” I seethed.

  Were Two started laughing while Were One whined for me to release him. He was all bark and no bite.

  “You boys causing problems?” Angela asked from behind me. “You chose the wrong chick to mess with, I’ll tell you that much.”

  I released Were One and he backed away as if I’d turned into a ghoul and tried to bite him. Were Two was still laughing and harassed his friend as they strode back into the crowd of dancers. I watched them disappear into the throbbing multitude before turning to Angela with a sigh.

  “It’s early and I’m already off to a bad start,” I said, shaking my head.

  “They deserved it and then some,” Angela laughed. “Bastards.” She glanced out into the crowd, as if searching for a sign of them but they’d been swallowed by the sea of people.

  She faced me again. “Bram is ready for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said and grabbed my helmet, starting for the short corridor that led to Bram’s office.

  The door was closed even though Bram knew I was coming. He was such a sucker for pretense. I knocke
d on the door and there was no answer so I knocked again, irritated that I had to play his game.

  “Enter.”

  His voice came from the other side of the door and with a shake of my head, I opened the door and took a few steps into the plush carpet of his office. There was even less light in Bram’s office and I had to make out the outline of the door behind me in order to close it. Inside, the music was muted and the smell of burning incense was thick in the air. I dropped my helmet into a nearby chair, my eyes still growing accustomed to the low light.

  “Hi, Bram,” I said, once I noticed him sitting behind a desk, outlined by the glow of a candle just behind him. The desk was a new addition to his office but the black lacquer fit perfectly against the red, white and black motif of his office.

  He glanced up as if he hadn’t expected me, as if he’d been poring over the papers in his hand, without any clue that he had a visitor. His fangs immediately descended as soon as he glanced at me, the papers falling from his hand, scattering across his desk.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

  He shook his head in what appeared to be bewilderment and stood up. He took the five steps separating us and stretched a long, slender finger toward me, running it down the leather of my bike jacket, just above my left breast. I was reminded of what had happened the last time a man had touched me without asking permission but figured Bram wouldn’t take it well if I attacked him…or maybe he would. Either way, I wasn’t going to try it, not while I needed a favor.

  He opened his mouth and inhaled, like a cat smelling the air. When his eyes found mine again, there was something in their depths—something I couldn’t put my finger on. Ever since Bram had turned three hundred, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him, it was as if his power had increased twofold, and his aura emanated it. And it wasn’t something I liked. An unpredictable vampire was not an easily managed vampire.