Inferni Eternal: Hotel California: Book Three (An Urban Fantasy Series) Page 7

  Zoey sighed and flicked her hair. “The world could fade away beneath their feet.”

  As she stared at the clueless mob her mind began drift. She thought of her sister and of Eric. A bit of excitement spurred in her chest and she smiled. Then she began to think about Noll and her joy was erased with the hole in her heart.

  Noll had been the only person beside her sister that Zoey had ever trusted. He was the only person she’d ever let in and it was Langston’s fault that he was dead. Now she filled the void Noll left with the hate she had for Langston. One way the other, she was going to shuffle off his mortal coil and cast his ashes to the wind.

  “I got you cream and sugar on the side. I didn’t know what you wanted,” Shanna announced and set the coffee down on the table.

  Zoey looked up in a daze as her anger dissipated and she pulled herself back to reality. “Thank you,” she mumbled and took the cup. She took a sip of the hot brew then set the cup down and tightened her jaw.

  “You sure you don’t want pizza?” Shanna asked. “It’s really good here.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Zoey replied then paused. She took a slow pan around the diner then turned back to Shanna. “You understand he has to die right?”

  “What? Who?” Shanna shouted. She sunk her head and lowered her voice. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Langston,” Zoey growled. “I don’t care how this ends, Langston has to die.”

  “Okay,” Shanna replied then took a sip of her coke. “Everything okay with you, Zoey?”

  Zoey sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, everything is great. Are you ready to go yet?”

  Shanna took her phone out and started to dial the number from Ferris. “Let me find out where we’re going first,” she replied. The phone rang a few times then a raspy voice answered like they were just waking up from a deep sleep.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this um, Daniel?”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Shanna. Ferris gave me your number.”

  “I’m gonna kill—”

  “He said to tell you he’s calling in that favor you owe him,” she interrupted.

  Daniel fumed. “God damn it. Fine, what do you want?”

  “Just an address. That’s all I need.”

  “Well?”

  “His name is Angel Vasquez. Guess he’s some kind of movie producer.”

  “One second,” Daniel replied and set the phone down. A few moments passed in silence then he came back to the phone and made a low, rumbling grunt. “Look, Shanna. I don’t know what Ferris told you but it doesn’t usually work like this out here. People like Angel are very particular. His address is hard to get for a reason and I sure as hell don’t want anyone of this coming back on me. You understand?”

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Daniel. I understand.”

  “Tell Ferris to lose my number after this. The address is 4545 Lancelot Lane,” Daniel spat then hung up the phone.

  “Rude,” Shanna mumbled and sat her phone on the table then looked up to Zoey. “He hung up on me.”

  “Well, did you get the address or not?”

  “Yes, Zoey. I got the address. It’s half an hour from here. Let me run to the restroom and I’ll call us an uber.”

  Zoey smiled. “Good, very good.” She downed her cup of coffee then stood up. “I’ll be outside.”

  Shanna nodded then finished her slice of pizza before heading down the hall toward the restroom. Before she could round the corner, her phone rang and she paused. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Shanna,” a man replied in a raspy, deep unfamiliar voice.

  “Who is this?”

  “A concerned party.”

  “I don’t have time for games, goodbye.”

  “Wait! If you want to see your sister again, you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

  A bolt of fear struck Shanna’s heart and she nearly dropped the phone. “My sister?” she repeated.

  “Yes, Diane Landry. That is your sister, isn’t it?”

  “Who the fuck is this?” Shanna growled.

  “Temper, temper. I’d think you’d want to control that tone. At least for your sister’s sake.”

  “If you touch my sister, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “Too late. But what happens to her next, is entirely up to you. Give her a call if you don’t believe me. I’ll wait.”

  Shanna looked back toward the front of the diner. Zoey was standing just outside, tapping her foot impatiently. Zeroes slowly meandered by and Shanna wiped her face and gathered her composure. “Okay, what do you want?” she finally asked.

  “The address you just received, you’re going to go there. Ditch the witch,” the man said forcefully then hung up.

  Shanna stood there for a few beats. Her mouth hung open and she stared at Zoey, fighting against the wave of guilt that was crashing down on her. “Damn it,” she groaned then tucked her phone into her pocket. She turned and hurried down the hall and left out of the back of the building.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE NEWCOMERS

  Langston took a shallow breath and looked up. He squeezed his jaws until his teeth hurt then with a heavy grunt, stood and began to pace the room.

  He took several trips back and forth. His face was wrinkled with frustration. His hands were clenched at his sides and every time a log snapped in the fireplace, he jumped.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Olivia asked.

  Langston paused and shot her a glance then continued his meandering. But her question lingered in the air. “It’s an easy thing, isn’t it?” he finally asked and stared toward the four vampires that stood in the living room across from him.

  “What’s that?” Meesha asked. She was the leader. Young and agile with long, white flowing hair and an ice-like disposition. Her pale skin looked like alabaster armor laying atop her tone physique.

  Langston looked away then continued. “To disavow the Pactiza. They no longer exist. It’s easy to leave a defunct union. Bravery is scarce amongst your kind.”

  Meesha chewed the inside of her gum and spared a glance toward her comrades. Dimitri, Leo, and Oleg looked back at her blankly. Each of them had the appearance of newly minted night walkers. While it was frowned upon, it was common for ambitious vampires to sire their own coven. And Meesha was more ambitious than most. “Khrabrost,” she started with a slight giggle. “Etot trus pryachetsya za porydkom.”

  Oleg laughed. “Our kind,” he replied in a low voice. “What would he know?”

  Meesha smirked then turned back to face Langston. “They say you needed help. They say you needed many, many more to help with your cause. They say–they say the order is recruiting.”

  Langston made an exhausted breath. “Olivia, why do you bring me these pathetic souls? They’re not worthy of the skin that covers their weak skeletons.”

  Meesha continued to grin. “They also say you mock your betters,” she oozed coldly and met his gaze with a deadly stare. “That, I will not tolerate.”

  Olivia swallowed and braced herself for Langston’s outburst. She’d learned the hard way how he treated those that opposed his rule. But he did nothing. He stared at Meesha with a blank face for minutes. To her credit, she didn’t look away but the tension in the room grew to palpable levels.

  Eventually, Langston turned his head then broke into a fit of laughter. It was a harsh, rattling howl that shook the walls and echoed deep into the recesses of the mansion. “Tolerate,” he said when his chuckling subsided. “Perhaps the order suits you. Perhaps, you forget yourself.” He took a short breath and looked down at his hands. “Betters you say. But here you are with your hands out, asking for a place among your betters, as if the order was some kind of club for misshaped leeches.”

  “You dare!” Meesha growled.

  “Olivia, teach this bottom feeder what it means to be in the order,” Langston said dismissively.

  Olivia nodde
d then flicked her hand and Meesha fell to the ground as her head erupted with blinding pain. She squealed and rolled from side to side, trembling in agony. Every nerve exploded, sending jolts of fire spiraling throughout her body.

  “Stop this!” Oleg roared.

  Langston held out finger and waved it. “No, no,” he said with warning in his voice. “Each must learn their own lesson.”

  Grinning, Olivia turned back to Meesha. “Stand up,” she ordered.

  Meesha stopped squirming and jumped to her feet. Tears were rolling down her face but she glared back in defiance. “I will kill you!” she growled. “You’re dead!”

  “Don’t talk,” Olivia replied and waved her hand. Meesha’s jaw slammed shut and real fear unfolded across her face. Olivia circled her and grinned with satisfaction. “You want to kill someone? Kill one of your own. Kill that one,” she said and pointed to Dimitri. “Now!”

  Dimitri trembled but before he could move, Meesha was on top of him. She latched onto his neck and tore out his throat then tossed his head to the side like litter. His body toppled over as and hit the floor with a punctuated thud.

  It happened so fast the other vampires didn’t have a chance to react. By the time they realized what was happening, Meesha was standing over Dimitri’s corpse with blood covering her face.

  “Meesha!” Oleg’s voice broke. “He’s dead.”

  Langston cringed in disgust. “You’ll be cleaning that up, Olivia,” he demanded.

  Oleg’s mouth fell open. He turned to face Leo and they shared a brief look. “We have to do something,” he said angrily.

  “What could you do?” Langston asked. “Khrabrost?”

  Oleg’s eyes widened at the word.

  Langston continued. “Bravery, I think it is. No? Russian has always been one of my least favorite languages,” he finished then turned to face Meesha. “I hide from no one. Certainly, I thought your kind would know better. Olivia, teach her another lesson.”

  Olivia beamed. She slowly walked past Meesha and rubbed her hand across the blood that stained her face. She looked Meesha up and down. Her eyes narrowed behind a mask of disgust. Vampires to her were nothing more than stray dogs. The bottom feeders of the magical world, hardly better than zeroes. “Tear off your thumb,” Olivia grumbled sadistically. “Tear off both of them.”

  Meesha’s eyes widened but without hesitation she jammed her right thumb into her mouth and ripped it off. She spat the severed appendage onto the floor then with a trembling jaw, tore off the other one. Gagging, she turned her head and vomited.

  “No more, please,” she begged and stared toward Olivia. Droplets of blood rolled off her hands and splattered onto the floor like a leaky faucet. Oleg and Leo watched in horror but had erased all thoughts of intervening.

  Olivia cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. “I don’t believe you understand yet,” she continued. “Perhaps the entire hand.”

  “Just a moment,” Langston interrupted. “Maybe she has learned her lesson. Maybe they all have. After all, we can’t have thumbless twits doing our bidding. Can we, Olivia?”

  Olivia frowned. “I suppose we cannot.” She turned her back and Meesha collapsed to the floor. She grabbed her thumbs and gripped them in her quivering palms.

  “I find that the hardest lessons are earned not learned. But nothing is ever set in stone,” Langston said and started walking forward. He knelt beside her and grabbed each of the severed thumbs in between his fingers. “Hold out your hands,” he said softly.

  Meesha slowly looked up at him as tears of blood rolled down her cheeks. Wincing, she held out her hands and Langston set the mangled thumbs in place like leg pieces then grabbed her wrists. A warm light began to emanate from his hands. Meesha screamed and tried to pull away but Langston tightened his grip. He held her for a few moments then let go and the light dissipated. “Not so bad,” he whispered.

  Meesha gasped and wiggled her thumbs around. They were both as good as new, without a trace of the damage that had been done. Langston lifted her chin with his forefinger and leaned in close. “The order is more than you can imagine,” he said in a low voice.

  Meesha kissed his hands and bowed her head. “Anything,” she said desperately. “Anything you want, I will do. I’ll kill for you, I’ll die for you. We all will.”

  Langston smiled. “Perhaps the order does suit you. But it won’t require you to do, not yet.”

  Meesha smiled briefly then looked toward Dimitri’s body. She grimaced as her eyes trailed to his severed head.

  “Unfortunately, his death was very necessary. The first step toward the order is sacrifice. Are you sure you are ready?”

  Meesha wiped her face and swallowed. “Yes…yes I’m ready. We are ready.”

  “I’m looking for someone. A man named Eric Strange. Find out his whereabouts and report back. Such information would go a long way toward your place in the order. I’ve heard Club Ecstasy may prove as a valuable starting place.”

  “I will find him,” Meesha replied with enthusiasm. She waved her hand toward Oleg and Leo. “Quickly,” she said then slipped out of the mansion into the cool night.

  Langston watched them leave then turned and stared down at the dead vampire. “Olivia, clean this mess.”

  Olivia huffed. “Do you really plan to let them into the order?”

  Langston laughed. “Of course not. As soon as they find Eric, they’ll be joining their fallen comrade in the afterlife. I don’t do forgiveness.”

  CHAPTER 14

  A RIVER OF MEMORIES

  A car honked. A woman shouted a string of expletives. Someone chuckled and Zoey looked back into the diner and cursed under her breath. At least twenty minutes had passed and Shanna was nowhere to be seen. Zoey had done just about all the waiting that she could. With a head of steam, she stormed back into the diner and headed for the restrooms.

  “Shanna!” she boomed and slammed her hand against the door. “Patience is not a virtue I hold or care for.”

  The toilet flushed and there was a scrambling sound. Footsteps tapped across the floor then the door handle jiggled. The door swung open and a woman wearing a skintight black dress and pink heels stumbled out. “Ugh, it’s all yours,” she slurred and charged by, ramming her shoulder into Zoey.

  Zoey restrained herself. She followed the woman with her eyes and snarled as she vanished into the growing crowd. “Count your lucky stars, woman,” Zoey growled then walked into the restroom and looked around for a moment. Remnants of drug use were scattered across the sink. Vomit was splattered on the wall and the faucet was leaking water into a puddle on the floor. “Shanna,” she growled under her breath. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Fuming, Zoey left the filthy restroom and pushed her way back outside. She looked up and down the sidewalk then started off into the night with no real destination. The random chattering of the thinning crowd set her mind at ease and she began care a little less about Shanna ditching her. He thoughts drifted from the many ways she planned to harm Shanna to the events that filled the last week. So much had changed, so much had been lost and the constant danger around every corner left her with little time to process.

  “You’re a week early,” a screechy voice called from behind her.

  Zoey spun around to find a scrawny man with a goatee and knotted brown hair eyeing her suspiciously. She suppressed her urge to set him on fire and instead chose the politer approach. “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “Halloween isn’t until next week,” the man said and motioned toward her attire.

  Zoey glanced down at her black dress casting a wide silhouette from the cascading folds of lace. Witch, she thought as an image popped in her head of what zeroes imagined her kind should be. Her black fingernails and shoes didn’t help and she found it almost comical that she’d made herself a walking cliché. But it was almost comical.

  An anger rose up at the back of her throat and she forced herself to swallow it down. Her venom was better served to
someone else. And as vile as she found the humans, she pitied the man’s ignorance. “I’m in mourning!” she snapped.

  The man stumbled back as she lunged and shoved him in the chest. “Geez, it was a joke,” he said. With an angry scowl, the man turned and hurried off.

  Zoey tightened her jaw and sighed. Noll was never far from her thoughts and while it was true, she was in mourning, she’d never really had the chance to mourn his death. She’d certainly avenged it but coming to terms with her loss was something else entirely.

  As she started back down the sidewalk her thoughts drifted to Noll’s funeral. It was a haphazardly organized event thrown between the battle at the hotel and the upcoming war. Shrouded in misery and overshadowed by the world’s demise, it wasn’t the sendoff anyone would’ve wanted.

  Zoey had gone to great lengths to put the funeral together. Noll didn’t have much family. Most of his lineage was snuffed out in wars that were fought for reasons that no longer mattered. But the few remaining members had all been quickly identified and brought to New York. That along with Noll’s friends and business associates gathered for an intimate ceremony.

  Zoey cringed as she recalled the musky smell of the tunnels that led to the Aeternum Strait. Noll had spent so many years of his life being the steward of the magical canal that it was only fitting to host his funeral.

  A row of trolls lined the edge of the water. They bowed onto their knees, paying respect to the dwarf they’d served for so long. A small wooden raft floated beside the wall, tethered to a pole. It carried Noll’s body atop a pyre of wood and hay.

  “Langston has to die,” Zoey mumbled as Eric stopped beside her and hesitantly wrapped his arm around her shoulders. To his surprise she leaned into him and he tightened his hold.

  “He’ll die,” Eric replied. “And not well.”

  Zoey tightened her jaw then looked toward the water. Her eyes fell on Noll and a sharp pain stabbed into her chest. She’d been trying to avoid staring at him the entire night but as the ceremony was concluding she could no longer refuse the reality. “Why?” she questioned in a breaking voice.