Read Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2) Online
Authors: Logan Patricks
I rolled my eyes. Beau was a walking erection.
Isadora looked at him with ambivalence and shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have a look one day,” she said, clearly feigning interest.
“And what is it that you sell in your shop?” Beau asked.
Isadora cracked a smile. “Why isn’t it obvious?” she asked as she leaned in closer and whispered to all of us. “I sell magic.”
#
I woke up to the crunching of cereal and a keyboard clacking. Reiko sat at the dining room table, wearing yoga pants and a white tank-top. One hand rapidly moved across the keys of her laptop, the other held a white porcelain bowl filled with cereal.
I sat up on the couch, still fog-headed, and stretched.
My entire body ached from the fight last night. There may have been an easier way to have gotten Cairo’s attention—besides choking oxygen out of his brain cells first—but all other ideas I had would have had the same outcome: Cairo bludgeoning me with sledgehammer fists.
He always had the temperament of a raging bull.
“There’s cereal if you’re hungry and your choice of normal, soy, or almond milk,” Reiko said, not bothering to take her eyes away from the screen.
She took a break from her one-handed typing in order to scoop a generous helping of cereal into her mouth.
I walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up the box of Lucky Charms, written in Chinese, and grabbed myself an empty bowl from the dish strainer.
“Lucky Charms?” I asked.
“They’re magically delicio
us,” Reiko replied as she continued to work away on her white Macbook.
“Nice choice.”
“Not mine,” Reiko replied. “Cairo likes sweet cereals, especially ones with those fake marshmallows in it.
After pouring myself some breakfast, I returned to the couch and ate quietly, leaving Reiko to do her work. The rhythmic sounds of her typing on the keyboard and the crunching of cereal filled the silence.
Not even two minutes later, I was getting antsy. I wanted an answer from Reiko regarding my offer to join the Midnight Society.
However, she wasn’t a girl that liked to be pushed. I needed to be strategic about it.
“So…” I began.
“I’ll help you, Shadow,” she replied, eyes still glued to the monitor.
Well that was easy. “Good,” I said. “That’s good.”
“But not for the reasons you’re thinking of,” she added.
“Oh?”
She closed the laptop and turned her attention to me. She set down her bowl of cereal.
“Ever since Cairo found out his dad died, it’s been eating away at him,” she said. “He doesn’t talk to me about it, probably because I’ve completely shut out the idea of grieving over my father’s death, but I know what he’s feeling deep down inside. He feels guilty that he abandoned his dad and his sister and regrets that he wasn’t there to stop it from happening.”
“There’s nothing he could have done,” I said. “Calisto pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes.”
“You know how men are,” Reiko said. “Every single alpha male thinks they have the capability of altering the course of history. If I gave you a gun and dropped you in the middle of Nazi Germany during World War II, what would you try and do?”
“Steal a tank?” I replied.
“You males all think the same way,” she continued, ignoring my comment. “Sometimes, you just can’t let our history be just that—history.”
“So you’re helping me because…”
“Because Cairo feels the need to help you,” Reiko replied, “And because I love him, I’m with him. Once Calisto is taken down, he’ll feel a sense of justice and it’ll soothe his restless heart. He needs to stop feeling guilty.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you feel guilty?”
Reiko looked at me and shrugged. “I feel guilty for Cairo feeling this way. I was the one who dragged him halfway across the world to be with me,” she said. “I know somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to go back.” Reiko paused. “I had no intentions of going back to America—back to the Midnight Society—so selfishly I kept him here, halfway across the world.”
“What about James? What about your dad?”
Reiko shot me a look, one that was filled with vile bitterness.
“He’s dead,” she replied. “It’s history to me.”
There was finality in her voice, telling me this topic of conversation was over.
“Okay,” I replied.
She got up from her seat, picked up her bowl and walked over to the sink. “Open up the laptop and have a look,” Reiko said as she turned on the tap to rinse the bowl out. “The password is Sailormoon.”
I flipped open the Macbook and typed in the password, wondering if it was Reiko or Cairo who came up it. The screen unlocked, displaying an array of bank accounts.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“The Triad’s new corporate financial infrastructure,” she replied. “This should be more than enough to satisfy Nathan Tse.”
I was stunned. “How long did it take you to do this?” I asked.
“Thirty-six minutes,” she replied as she opened the fridge and took out a jug of orange juice. “Would have been faster if I used both hands, but I was hungry and wanted to eat my cereal.”
“This would take an average person two years to accomplish,” I remarked.
She grinned. “Tell me Shadow, who in the Midnight Society was ever ‘average’ at anything?”
I thought for a moment. “Lucien?”
“Good one,” Reiko replied. “I think his sister acquired all the brains in that family.”
I paused. “Calisto murdered him too you know,” I said. “He was always an idiot, but he didn’t deserve his end. None of them did.”
Reiko shrugged, and then pointed to the laptop. “I did what you suggested in terms of manipulating the hard numbers on the screen of all of Elena’s accounts. Meanwhile I skimmed 0.25% of all her corporations and business holdings. It winds up being a pretty hefty sum going into Nathan’s bank account. The cyber imprint is all clean. The Triad is officially a financial corporation.”
“Brilliant,” I smiled as I looked at her with admiration. “You know, I have to ask, for a girl with your genius and the ability to steal money from corporations without being detected, why live in a modest condo in Hong Kong?”
Reiko took a sip of juice from her glass and pursed her lips. “I’m a simple girl,” she replied. “I always was, and always will be. All I need is my man, my computer, and some good books and I’m happy.”
My thoughts turned to Aria, and those brief weeks of happiness I had with her. I prayed that I would never forget that feeling.
“So we’re all set then? I can contact Nathan Tse?” I asked.
Reiko nodded as she picked up a cell phone on the counter and tossed it over to me. “I created a quick app that links directly to the account,” she said. “It’s the one with the penguin face.”
“I click on it and his account is activated?”
“Yes,” she replied. There was a brief pause. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re practically giving the devil the keys to Pandora’s box,” she replied. “You’ve been in Hong Kong for only two days and already you plan on altering its landscape.”
“Nathan wants to go legitimate,” I replied. “There’s more money to be made in real estate than being a gangster.”
“You’re siding with one devil just to take down another,” Reiko said. “Nathan Tse is a dangerous man.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I replied. “I’d rather deal with dangerous than psychotic nine times out of ten.”
There was a brief moment of silence between us.
“I tried looking for her you know,” Reiko said.
“Calisto?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I was always one to hack at the root, and not the branches of a problem tree.”
“And?” I asked, despite already knowing the answer.
“I cast a pretty wide net—all her transaction records, any electronic signatures, even her library cards. I found nothing. She’s become a ghost.”
I nodded. “She’s smart,” I replied. “A lot smarter than I am. That’s why I need you to help me catch her.”
Reiko nodded.
Suddenly a loud groan, followed by some strange grunting resonated from the bedroom. I shot Reiko a ‘what-the-fuck-was-that?’ glance.
“He’s waking up,” she replied.
I smirked. “You know, I have to ask, you had people lining up outside your door wanting to date you back at the Academy,” I said. “What made you choose Cairo in the end? He’s the
last
person I would have pictured you ending up with.”
“Cairo’s got a good heart and he loves me. Sometimes that’s all you really need,” she replied.
“I’m also hung like a horse.”
I turned and saw Cairo, standing by the doorway, shirtless and wearing Batman pajamas.
“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied.
“So what’s the plan for today chief?” He was rubbing the side of his head, probably still feeling the residual pain from my lights-out punch.
I shrugged. “A light lunch and then vengeance?”
Cairo nodded. “Sounds great,” he replied. “Lemme get changed first.”
Once Cairo was back inside the bedroom, Reiko turned to me.
“Don’t let anything happen to him,” she whispered.
“I won’t.”
She took a deep breath. “I’d like to believe you Shadow,” she said. “But it seems like whatever road you take, you have a habit of leaving a trail of dead bodies.”
#
Isadora led us back to her store, a small little shop situated around the corner from Bourbon Street. When she told us she sold magic, I had pictured a shop straight out of J.K. Rowling’s imagination, filled with wands and wizard hats, books with spells, and other magical oddities.
I pictured something cute.
But this was New Orleans, where magic had a different identity. The magic here was dark. It was voodoo.
She opened the door to the store and ushered us in. Inside was a pretty woman, a poster child for the ‘girl next door’ look, with long black hair brushed to one side and an elegant rosy face. She smiled from the moment we entered the Voodoo shop, which was appropriately named “The Voodoo Shop.”
“Hello hello,” she said. “Welcome to the Voodoo Shop.”
Isadora gave her a wink. “They’re not customers, Delilah,” she said.
“Oh, I figured that much out,” Delilah said. “They don’t look like tourists.”
Isadora turned to us. “I’ll need a minute to myself, and then I’ll introduce you to Mr. Friday,” she said.
“Mr. Friday is here?” Beau asked, in disbelief.
“Why yes, of course,” Isadora replied. “I believe the message delivered was that you’d speak to him today.”
“It was
,” Beau replied. “I just never thought Mr. Friday would agree to a face-to-face. I thought he’d use a proxy or something.”
“Mr. Friday has high regard for the Midnight Society,” Isadora replied. “He thought a face-to-face meeting was in order.”
“I thought you said you did business with Mr. Friday before?” Lincoln whispered to Beau.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I did do business with him, but always through a middleman,” Beau said. “Much like how Shadow and the high ups would never dig in the trenches of the Midnight Society’s shadier businesses.”
“You’d be surprised how dirty some elite members of the Midnight Society get,” Lincoln said.
“Maybe so, but I haven’t seen any of those rich shits this far down the hole yet, so I have my reservations.”
I gave Lincoln a coy glance.
“You’ll meet Mr. Friday today,” Isadora repeated, interrupting the private conversation Beau and Lincoln were having.
“I hate to say it, but I’m kinda nervous,” Beau said as he leaned in closer to Isadora. “I heard he has a vicious bite to him.”
“Only if he’s angered,” Isadora replied. “You three better be on your best behavior. He’s not a forgiving man. Get on his good side though and his generosity knows no bounds.”
I watched as Isadora disappeared through a beaded curtain and entered into the back of the shop.
“Please, feel free to look around,” Delilah said. “I’m here if you have any questions.”
I wandered over to a row of shrunken heads that lined up the insides of a display case. They were hideous little things. Their eyes and mouths were stitched shut with twine, and their long dark hair was coarse and scraggly.
I scrunched my face, trying to not look too disgusted by those terrible things. “Are those real?” I asked, pointing to a head.
Delilah laughed. “Good heavens, no,” she said. “They’re composed of paper, dried fruit, paint and some animal skin for texture. The only thing sinister about them is the ridiculous prices we can charge for them.”
I bent down and looked at the price tag for one of those things. Five hundred dollars.
“Holy smokes, someone actually pays that much money for something so ugly?”
She nodded. “They sure do. It’s amazing what you can sell with a good story behind it.”
I couldn’t dispute her on that one. I thought of Calisto, and all the stories she spun to draw me into the Midnight Society.
“The cops never ask about why you’re selling fake heads?” I asked.
Delilah shook her head. “As long as we pay our taxes and keep the tourists happy, we don’t get hassled. Besides they know this establishment is under Mr. Friday’s protection and in terms of pay-offs, Mr. Friday has been very good to the police.”
I walked over to some other displays of pagan nature. On the far wall, skulls of various animal heads were mounted. Many of them looked to be inspired right out of a horror movie. Another shelf had an assortment of voodoo dolls, some sinister and some cute looking.
I stopped in front of a tall, black bookcase housing different editions of voodoo bibles.
“So is any of this real?” I asked.
“Voodoo itself is real,” Delilah said. “All you see in this store are trinkets for tourists and wannabe witch doctors who want to put on a good show. Our top customers are a cult of wealthy teens who believe they’re vampires. I try to squeeze them for every last penny.”
“So this store is nothing but a sham?”
Delilah shrugged. “The only thing in this store that’s real voodoo is Isadora,” she replied. “She herself is a living, breathing mojo. She has revolutionized voodoo and redefined the laws and limitations of this religion.”
“So you believe in voodoo as well?”
She smiled. “You can’t possibly live in New Orleans without stumbling upon a bit of magic here and there.”
“Makes sense,” I said, to appease her. I still wasn’t sold on the idea of magic. I walked over to Lincoln who was flipping through one of the books on the shelves.
“Find anything interesting?”
He showed me the cover.
“The Spiritual Magic of Sex,” I read aloud.
“I was wondering if it could teach me a few moves,” he said. He opened up to a page he had thumbed. There was a drawing of a woman, her hands and legs bound to two adjacent trees, completely spreading her body wide open in the shape of an X. Meanwhile, a man was on his knees, performing oral sex on her while his hands reached up and pinched her nipples.
“Is this turning you on?” he asked me in jest.
I pictured myself being tied up while Lincoln licked me. The thought of his lips and tongue brushing against my pussy folds made me hot.
I thought of Shadow, his hard cock sheathing inside me while I was physically bound and helpless to his desires, and let out a gasp.
“Are you alright, Aria?” Lincoln asked as he closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.
I nodded. Get a hold of yourself girl. Now wasn’t the time to have fifty shades of fantasies.
“Just a little anxious, that’s all,” I replied.
Isadora emerged from the curtains, this time wearing a low cut crimson dress that fit snug against her skin. Her cleavage was fully on display and judging by the seedy grin on Beau’s face, he was enjoying the view.
“Mr. Friday is ready to meet with you,” she said. “Please follow me.”
We stepped through the beaded curtain and traversed through a narrow hallway. The wooden paneled walls were lined with faded yellow pictures of various people engaged in ritualistic acts. I shuddered. It was creepy as hell.
The lighting in the hallway was dim. The bulbs that hung from a rusted iron chandel
ier emitted a faint orange glow while the light cast dark shadows along the wall that moved to the beat of our echoing footsteps. I couldn’t walk through this hallway fast enough.
At the end of the corridor was a faded red, wooden door. Isadora opened it and gestured for us to enter.
Inside was a normal looking study with a clean desk, shelves filled with books, a liquor cabinet, and most surprisingly a framed university certificate hanging against the back wall. I looked at it with keen interest.
Isadora Lalande, graduated from the University of New Orleans in theological studies with first honors.
“I still don’t see Mr. Friday anywhere,” Beau said as he examined the liquor cabinet. “But you do have a vintage scotch in here that I’d be interested to try, that is if you’re willing to offer your esteemed guests a drink.”
“Once business is done,” Isadora said, as she took a seat behind the desk as crossed her legs.
I looked at the way she was sitting, in an authoritative stance with an amused look on her face, and an idea dawned on me.
“There is no Mr. Friday, is there?” I asked. “It’s only you.”
“There are partial truths in your words,” Isadora said. “There
was
a Mr. Friday, and he
was
a great man that deserved be feared as well as respected. He died over two years ago.”
“And you’ve been running the show since, behind the scenes?” Lincoln asked.
“Any successful partnership must begin with trust,” Isadora said, “And so I have trusted you with the greatest secret amongst my organization. I trust you will keep it?”
Lincoln nodded. “Of course,” he said. “The Midnight Society keeps the secrets of everyone they’re in bed with.”
“I figured nothing less from the Midnight Society.”
“How did Mr. Friday die?” Lincoln asked.
“Does that matter?”
“I’m just curious to know how a man so great met his end.”
Isadora sighed. “Mr. Friday was a man who enjoyed many vices. One of them ended up being the death of him.”
Beau’s mind looked boggled. “So for two years, a voodoo witch has been running the show?” he asked. “The person I’ve been dealing with all this time was you?”
Isadora shrugged. “Is it so hard to believe that a woman can run an entire empire by herself?”
Beau shook his head. “I don’t question your abilities,” he said. “I’m just surprised that behind all
the vicious murders and acts of violence over the past couple of years, is a beautiful woman such as you.”
“Bite your tongue you ape,” Isadora warned. “You don’t have any evidence to prove I murdered anyone.”
“It’s no secret that Mr. Friday has been more ruthless to his enemies over the past couple of years,” Beau said.
I could tell Isadora was starting to get annoyed.
Lincoln must have sensed it too as he was quick to interject into their discussion. “Isadora, has Beau told you why we’re here?”
She nodded. “You want the Midnight Society’s investment back.”
“And our stash of weapons as well,” he replied. “The money that Beau gave you was not meant for investment purposes.”
Beau seemed to take offense to Lincoln’s words. “Don’t be a sour puss about it,” he said. “The investment decisions I made have more than doubled the Midnight Society’s money. I’m not gaining a cent from any of this.”
“If you gained nothing out of your business dealings with me, why do it in the first place?” Isadora asked.
“Heck, why does anyone do anything these days? I was bored.”
“So you decided to play with our money?” Lincoln asked, still composed.
“It was a safe bet,” Beau said. “I never gamble unless I know I’m coming out a winner.”
Isadora smiled. “It’s true. I’ve made a lot of money for the Midnight Society through the initial investment.” She pulled out a notebook from the desk and flipped through the pages casually. “Ah, here we are. Last year’s earnings.”
“And?” Lincoln asked.
“A net profit gain of three million dollars, cash, from what you put in.”
Lincoln looked at Beau and shrugged. “I give you credit, you’re not a bad investor. What did you invest in?”
“The surefire money maker around these parts,” Beau said, “Crystal meth. The drug has gotten quite popular after a wonderful TV show put it in the spotlight.”
Great, our future relied on the business decision
s from a sex-obsessed TV junkie who exchanged his television for a mirror.
“Can we have our money
and weapons then?” Lincoln asked.
Isadora shook her head. “
Weapons are not a problem. The money however…when Beau first gave us money to use as investment for the crystal business, it was understood that the investment had a three year locked-in period,” she replied. “Currently we are in year two. To shift the funds around now would leave us both at a loss.”
“You said we made three mil from this,” Lincoln said. “You’re telling me none of that money is available to us?”
“That is correct,” Isadora said. “Delilah is a genius when it comes to business ventures, and dare I say prophetic. Any profits made are reinvested in other channels of our business to maximize profits. My estimates are that by the end of year three, you’ll have a return of close to five million dollars.”
“Three million will do just fine,” Lincoln said, “And we’ll take it now. Please.”
Isadora shook her head. “No.”
“Then this is a problem,” Lincoln said. “Once again, that money was not for Beau to invest in this business venture.”
“It
is
a problem,” Isadora agreed. “But it’s not
my
problem.”
“What if we were to take back the initial investment of one million only?” Lincoln asked.
“You nuts boss?” Beau chimed in. “You’d leave two million on the table?”
Lincoln nodded as he shot Beau a scathing look. “Yes. We need the money now,” he said, coldly.