Deamhan (12 page)

“I can check.”

“Thanks, Sean. For everything.” She put her hand on the door’s chain guard, rattling it so that Murphy wouldn’t leave.

“Yeah,” he said. He sounded nervous. “No problem. Almost all of the files here are secured so it might take a while. The new archive location your father commissioned to be built years ago is heavily guarded.”

“They’re no longer accessible?” Veronica’s hand halted on the doorknob.

“I can still get them,” Sean said, with an egotistical edge to his voice. “It just means that now I might have to do some late night rummaging.”

 “Thanks. I owe you tons.”

“You’re the one that’s in an off-limits zone, sweetie,” he replied. “You need to be careful.” Murphy quickly knocked on the door again, grabbing Sean’s attention.  “You got company?” Sean asked again.

“Just my next door neighbor.”

“Hmm, you want some information on him, too?” he joked.

“Shut up,” Veronica joked back. “And call me back this afternoon.”

“What about tomorrow night?”

“No, this afternoon.”

Murphy knocked again. “Veronica, are you okay?”

She heard his muffled voice through the door.

Sean chuckled. “You’d better answer, Veronica.”

“I’ll talk with you later.” Veronica snapped her cell phone shut and opened the door.

Murphy immediately looked up at her.

“Hey, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” He smiled.

Disturbing me? His sudden appearance thrilled her but she viewed her uncombed hair and morning breath being far from looking her best.

“Oh, no, I just woke up.” She covered her mouth. “I haven’t had time to brush my teeth. What’s up?”

“Oh.” His eyes jumped from her face to the floor.  “Sorry. Want me to come back?”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“Oh, nothing.” He looked into her eyes and smiled as a hint of red crept into his cheeks. “I just came to check in on you, see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” Veronica felt a flutter in her stomach. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Good”—he nodded, as if trying to convince himself—“better than I thought I would.” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Yesterday was intense, huh?” He cocked a half-smile. “It’s weird. I know I’m going to be looking over my shoulder if I leave my apartment at night.”

“Everyone should.”

“Only if they knew. Well after yesterday, I was curious, and I looked on the Internet for the Deamhan.”

“The Internet?” Veronica felt her eyes bulge.

“Yeah,” Murphy said, nodding. “Did you know that Deamhan means demon of the air in Irish tradition. In English it means evil and of course demon.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Veronica slowly smiled and her brow scrunched. She didn’t know where he was going with the conversation.

 “I also looked up Lugat. Did you know that a Lugat was a creature that people considered harmless? They only feed on victims for a short period of time. Yeah . . . well these Lugats in Minneapolis seem far from harmless.”

“Yeah, I know.” Veronica leaned against the doorway.

“Why would they call them Lugat?” he continued. “Those Deamhan don’t resemble a Lugat.”

“Why call them Deamhan?” Veronica offered. “I don’t know, Murphy. Hey, ummm, I have some stuff to do and—I don’t mean to cut you off.”

He nodded, staring at the floor in thought.

Veronica guessed his curiosity was natural, especially after last night, but she didn’t want his interest and research on the Deamhan to go any further. He had no idea of the danger he could face.

He stole a sheepish glance at her and smiled. “Yeah, I have some things to do myself. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you later.” He turned away, then turned back to face her. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”

“Plans?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets. “I have these two tickets to a comedy show in downtown Minneapolis. My friend chickened out at the last minute. Do you want to go?”

He handed the tickets to Veronica and she glanced over them. Two front row seats, sixty-nine bucks each. She felt it again, this falling feeling. It felt like rocks tickling her insides. Her face flushed. A date?

“Too much caffeine on an empty stomach,” she said, feeling a foolish grin spread across her face.

He’s so cute, so sweet, so—stop it.

She didn’t want the romance. She didn’t need it. Not now, maybe not ever. Yet, she felt drawn to him.

“Sure,” she said, more brightly than she’d intended.

So much for doubtful thoughts.

You sound like an over-eager schoolgirl.

His face brightened and, for a brief moment, it glowed. “Great.”

“Sounds like fun. Besides, I could use a few laughs.”

Murphy nodded. “After maybe we can hit a bar or something. Unless you don’t drink.”

“I drink sometimes.”

His expression turned serious. “I don’t drink as much as my friends.”

Veronica shrugged. “Well, I’ve really gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Okay, yeah. See ya.” He flipped his hand in a brief, childish wave and turned toward his apartment. He opened the door, glanced back with a silly grin, then stepped inside and closed the door.

“I’m not the only one who’s as giddy as a schoolchild,” Veronica whispered, then shut her own door and collapsed against it in a fit of giggles.

CHAPTER TEN

It was shortly after sunset when Veronica realized Sean wasn’t going to call.

She hailed a taxi to Dark Sepulcher. The warm weather seemed to draw the inhabitants from their homes and out to the clubs and bars to enjoy the Minneapolis social night life. Before leaving her apartment, the weatherman predicted a slight chance of rain after midnight.

Veronica didn’t let the meteorologist on the six o’clock news deter her invite. The short cab ride felt like hours to her, and she stared at the tiny dots of water collecting on the windows. In her head, she reviewed the different scenarios of what she was going to expect. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe Lambert personally wanted to kill her. Maybe the whole meeting was conjured up by Alexis and Remy to get her where they wanted her. She thought of what Sean said. Maybe going back wasn’t her best option.

However, this opportunity gave her the chance to question her mother’s disappearance, and she accepted the risks. Veronica took a deep breath and exhaled gently. If things didn’t go as planned, she had a backup. She patted a small wooden stake concealed in the inside pocket of her brown jacket. She wasn’t going into Dark Sepulcher without it.

She arrived at a line of club-goers waiting along the wall to get inside. She walked past them all, grabbing the attention of some and receiving a gallant stare from others. She approached the front door and showed the bouncers her invitation.

“Right this way.” The bouncer handed the invitation back to her. She followed him through the front door, past the black curtain, and into Dark Sepulcher. They cut through crowds of drunken people dancing to the thumping music. The bouncer forcefully pushed people out of the way to create a clear path. They made their way near the coat check in the back corner, and he stopped in front of a black door that slowly swung open. Alexis stood in the doorway, her arms planted firmly on her hips and with her lips extended in a wide grin.

“She’s expected,” the bouncer said to her. He walked away, and Alexis continued to stare at him until he disappeared in the crowd.

“Feeling better?” Her eyes scanned Veronica from head to toe.  She flicked her long, black ponytail to her back. Her short, black mini-skirt and a small T-shirt showed off her curvaceous figure. Small scars covered her upper chest and her arms. “We haven’t been formally introduced.” She held out her hand.

“No, we haven’t,” Veronica replied. From Alexis’ clothing, she accepted Alexis had a taste for less fanciful clothing. She loved wigs, short skirts, and shirts that revealed her flat and toned mid-section. Maybe she preferred to look like a whore.

Alexis paused, her handshake completely ignored. “I’m sorry about that.” Alexis shifted her arm to brush Veronica’s bangs from her forehead.

Veronica stepped back.

“You smell sweet.” Alexis sniffed around Veronica’s face. Her eyes fluttered in response.

Veronica watched Alexis catch herself by stepping back.

“Sorry. The urge to sink my teeth into your flesh is a little too strong to handle.”

Discomposed, Veronica covered her neck. “I guess I’m nothing but just a meal with legs to you.”

“Somewhat,” Alexis answered. “You’re little miss untouchable, for now.”

Veronica adjusted her jacket and in a quick second, Alexis sighted a circular tip of a wooden object.

“What’s this?” Her movement was quick and she reached for Veronica’s jacket, pulling out the wooden stake. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” Alexis analyzed the sharp piece of wood before tossing it aside.

Veronica kept note that her movements were quick, just like the Deamhan.

“Well.” Alexis rubbed the corners of her mouth in an unhurried motion. “I wouldn’t mind seeing a little blood here and there.” Her eyes drifted to the darken balcony above. “He might, though.”

She turned and began walking, disappearing into the dark hallway.

Veronica wasn’t eager to follow her. She felt Alexis’ distaste for her, and it thickened the air around her. But she couldn’t ignore the moment and her need to take it.

For Mom, Veronica thought as she stepped into the shadowed hallway.

“This way, researcher.” Alexis turned and motioned for Veronica to follow.

Veronica held her arms to the side, using the walls as her guide. The dark foyer gave off an odor of iron, possible dried blood. The smooth walls rubbed against her fingertips. The little information she obtained from The Brotherhood about vampires didn’t mention anything about what to expect when a researcher finds themselves in the presence of a vampire. She knew that Deamhan relished in torture chambers and blood baths. Maybe vampires did too.

Her eyes slowed to focus, and she was able to distinguish the outline of Alexis’ body in front of her.

Ahead, a loose hanging bulb from the low ceiling flickered. The path split into two flights of stairs; one headed up to a red lit hallway, and the other down into obscurity.

“This way.” Alexis ascended the stairs. “Our private rooms are down those stairs.”

“Private rooms or torture chambers?” Veronica asked as she followed.

Alexis turned and snickered inauspiciously. “Private rooms.”

Veronica reached the top step. A red incandescent light now brightened the hallway. A long red carpet covered the floor. Along the walls, painted pictures of landscapes and people hung in perfect symmetry. Veronica looked at small, circular red sofas positioned in the middle of the hallway. The faint thumping of music vibrated the walls. Again, Alexis motioned Veronica to follow her. The area had an elegant vibe compared to the chaos happening below. Apparently, Lambert was a sophisticated vamp.

“Where are we going?” Now feeling undaunted, Veronica questioned their route.

“Here.” Alexis approached a thick brown door decorated in carved circular etchings resembling ancient calligraphy. She knocked then turned the knob slowly. She pushed the door open and stood aside, allowing Veronica to enter.

The flames of white candles stationed on wooden ledges throughout the room gave the space a disenchanted glow. The air smelled of Indian incense. An immense glass window towered over the dance floor with a thick red curtain draped over its edges. A glass bowl filled with grapes sat on a glass table arranged between two black leather couches covered in red and blue velvet pillows. A black curtain blocked the far wall of the room. Veronica awed at the room’s splendor. It was absolutely beautiful and not what she expected of a vampire.

It was far from stereotypical. She expected to see filth and remains of dead or dying victims scattered throughout. She’d prepared herself for the smell of blood and decomposing flesh covered in pure orifices of human decadence. There was none of that. Unlike a Deamhan, Lambert valued luxury over secrecy. Veronica’s curiosity surrounding him grew.

“Would you like a drink?” Alexis walked over to the bar near the black curtain.

“No.”

 She grabbed a glass from the counter and pulled back on the tassel. The curtain drifted to the left, revealing an unsettling image.

Veronica gasped, covering her mouth. Two wooden beams in the form of a cross held a woman who looked to be near death. Metal bracelets covered both her wrists and ankles, keeping her stationed on the cross with only a small, wooden platform for her bound feet. Totally naked, bite marks, welts, and other bruises peppered her skin. Bloodied thread sewn her lips shut. Her eyes remained closed with her head tilted to the side.

Veronica watched Alexis press a white button located on the wall. The woman’s body jerked. Her mouth opened slightly, and she let out a muted scream. The metal bracelets constricted and blood seeped from a tiny hole in them, dripping to another opening located on the bottom platform, beneath the woman’s feet. She pressed the button again and the woman wailed. The flow of blood continued, and Alexis placed her cup beneath the window near the floor, under a small spout where it emptied. She stopped pressing the button and gently sipped the blood from her cup.

“Ah.” She snickered at Veronica’s horrified response. Underneath the bruises and dried blood, the woman looked oddly familiar to Veronica. She’d seen her before in Dark Sepulcher, but she couldn’t place where. Her ponytails were disheveled. It took only seconds to finally realize where she’d seen the woman before: in the bathroom with Alexis on her first night in Dark Sepulcher.

The curtain whisked back into place, hiding the malicious view. Suddenly the environment didn’t seem as luxurious as Veronica believed it to be. It masked the dark side of Dark Sepulcher and it gave a fooled sense of contentment to its victims before they were devoured. Just like the victim behind the curtain, drained whenever Alexis wished it. This was the Dark Sepulcher Sean warned her about.