Chapter 22
Ophelia crept down the steps into the shop, cursing herself for offering to go first. She’d been banking on Jena putting up more of a fight, and now she was stuck leading the fucking charge. Ophelia frowned. She wasn’t gonna make that mistake again.
A line of muted light came from beneath the heavy velvet curtain at the base of the steps.
Ophelia nudged it aside and peeked out, Jena’s rapid breath hot on her neck.
Damn it. The curtains over the massive bay window in the front of the store had been ripped from their rungs, and the smoke-filled street beyond was on full display.
Ophelia scanned the rest of the shop, craning her ears, but couldn’t tell if there was anyone else in there.
tha-thump…tha-thump…tha-thump…
Her breath caught at a steady beat over by the windows. She turned back to Jena. “Do you hear that?”
The witch’s eyes widened. “Hear what?”
tha.thump.tha.thump.tha.thump.tha.thump.
Wait, was that…? Ophelia’s brow knit, and she put her hand to Jena’s throat—
“Oh my God! What are you doing?!” the witch screeched, batting her hand away.
“Shh! Quiet! I’m checking your pulse. I think I hear— Just shut up a minute.” Damn. Ophelia licked her lips. “I can hear your heartbeat, little Aggie’s, and I’m pretty sure there’s someone alive in the next room.”
“Really?” Jena whispered, a hand on her abdomen, then scowled. “Her name’s not Aggie.”
“Sure it isn’t. Come on, I think it’s okay.
” At least, Ophelia didn’t hear anyone else alive in there.
Granted, that was kind of a subjective criteria, considering the virus was keeping her heart pumping, but it was more of a sa-swish, and she didn’t hear that, either.
She slipped from behind the curtain with Jena on her heels.
Other than the ruined drapes, the shop looked completely normal.
They picked their way through the display tables to the storefront window.
Right below it, a woman’s legs stuck out from beneath a mound of velvet, and the heartbeat was definitely coming from that direction.
“Stay back and let me go check it out,” Ophelia said, darting over in a crouch.
She knelt and dragged away the heavy fabric. The woman beneath it was in sad shape, but she was breathing, no thanks to the long purple bruise running over her temple. If Ophelia had to guess, Greg had ripped the curtains down and bludgeoned the witch with the rod.
“This her?”
Jena put a hand to her lips and nodded, looking ill. “Yeah, that’s Luna.”
“Okay, well, she’s alive,” Ophelia said, frowning at the unconscious woman. She was thin, but tall. All that dead weight was gonna be a bitch to lift, and with Jena pregnant…yeah, that wasn’t happening. “But now, what do we do? I can’t carry her upstairs by myself and you’re not helping.”
“And those aren’t going back up anytime soon,” Jena said, scowling at the mangled curtains.
One of the fixtures had been torn from the window’s casement and the rod was bent.
She chewed her lip. “Damn it. Splitting up was stupid. We all need to be upstairs with the rest of the coven. Let’s get Otis and Clint from the basement. They can carry her up.”
Ophelia stared at her. Was she for real?
“What?” Jena asked, clueless.
“Have you ever watched a single horror movie? Like, even one?”
“Of course I have, why?”
“Then you know how fucking stupid that is. ‘Oh, let’s just go into the basement, do-do-do.” She rolled her eyes, then pulled her thumb across her throat and made a face. “I might as well kill you now and save whoever’s down there the trouble.”
Jena scoffed, crossing her arms over her breast. “That’s not gonna happen.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re not wearing your six-inch hooker heels so you can fall dramatically when you try to run away,” Jena snarked, batting her lashes. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”
Yes, but abandoning everybody and shadow walking to Klineville to wait this out didn’t seem like an appropriate answer. Ophelia glowered at her, not totally taking it off the table, but goddamn it, this friend thing sucked. “Okay, fine, but this time, you’re going first.”
“Fine.”
“Yeah, well, it better be fine,” Ophelia muttered, standing.
Jena started back across the shop. “I just said it was.”
Ophelia took one more look at the woman on the floor and trailed after her. God, this was a bad idea. “You know I hate you, right?”
“It’s mutual and so very, very much.” Jena wet her lips and pushed the door to the storage room open. It squeaked loudly, because of course it did.
“Good. As long as that’s clear.” Ophelia fingered her ear, still hearing heartbeats. It was like a bizarre version of tinnitus. How the hell did she turn that off?
“Is there anyone in there?” Jena whispered.
Ophelia paused for a minute. Not in there, but… “No. I’m pretty sure there are people downstairs, though.”
Jena froze. “People? Like, more than two?”
“I don’t know, more than one. It’s not the easiest thing to count, and yours and little Aggie’s are loud as hell.”
“Will you stop it? I’m not naming her Aggie!” Jena seethed.
“You are, but whatever.” Ophelia pinched across her temples, trying to concentrate on what she was hearing. “Three. I think there’s three.”
“But there’s only supposed to be two!”
“Oh my God, I know, so are we going or not?”
Jena screwed up her mouth and karma sparked purple at her fingertips. “Yes, we’re going.” She opened the basement door before Ophelia could protest. That, surprisingly, didn’t squeak, and they blinked at the bright light coming from below.
“They must be using one of Chase’s LED spots,” Jena murmured, starting down. “Mr. Fynbender? Mr. Rondo?”
Ophelia winced. How fucking stupid was she?
There was no way she’d ever watched a horror movie, because they were definitely about to be murdered by some dude with an ax.
The way the steps creaked beneath their feet was on point, even if the light wasn’t.
It was bright enough to see the motes of dust they were kicking up.
That shouldn’t have been creepy, but it was.
Ophelia shivered with more than dread. It was colder down here than she remembered.
And completely empty. What the hell?
The little rectangular windows had cardboard over them, and a big spotlight was in a corner, illuminating the rest of the room.
“I thought you said you heard heartbeats.”
Ophelia shrugged, going over to retrieve her shoes from the last stupid adventure the witch had signed her up for. “I thought I did, but it’s not like I’m an expert.”
Jena put a hand to the wall where the secret entrance to the Below was. “Where do you think they went?”
“I dunno, but we probably shouldn’t hang around—”
The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, and the light went out. They gasped, and a low chuckle rumbled through the darkness.
The light flicked on again, and Ophelia held a hand over her eyes, squinting.
“Boo.” A tall man stood with his face over the spotlight, stark shadows running up his face. He laughed again, straightening up. “Just kidding. I couldn’t help but overhear you two discussing horror movies and decided to have a bit of fun.”
Holy crap, that was the guy who killed Chambers—Jena’s dad. What the fuck was he doing here? He stepped to the side of the spotlight wearing a tailored, black suit and bowler hat right out of the 1800s.
Jena scooted to Ophelia’s side and put a hand on her arm, trembling. “W-what did you do with Mr. Fynbender and Mr. Rondo?”
“Hmm? Oh, those two.” He adjusted his cuffs.
“They’re in the parlor upstairs, probably wondering the same.
We had been having such a lovely chat before you two interrupted.
But, no matter. I also brought up that young lady you left on the floor of the shop.
Rather callous of you to abandon her like that, darling.
Really, anything could have happened to her in that compromised state. ”
Jena’s mouth opened like she was going to say something, then she closed it again and took a slow breath. “What do you want?”
He put a hand to his breast as if wounded. “Why, to better know my child, of course. Isn’t that every parent’s most fervent desire?” He moued, his bottom lip sticking out. “We parted on such poor terms. Let’s make amends, shall we? Forgive and forget?”
“You’re crazy.” Jena stumbled back and Ophelia steadied her. “You need to leave me alone.”
“Alas, I’m afraid that’s not in the cards.” He smiled, and it was panty-dropping charming.
“Damn,” Ophelia murmured. Jena scowled, elbowing her. “What?” It wasn’t like she was interested, but just…damn.
“Ah. And there’s the little queen. You’ve been very naughty.
” He waggled a finger at her, and his emerald-green eyes flicked over their shoulders to the wall where the hidden door was.
“But, alas, now’s neither the time nor the place to become acquainted.
A contingent of the Crimson Guard and several scores of vampire revenants are about to swarm out of that tricky little hole in the wall.
Now, you ladies can either come with me, or, well, let’s not dwell on the alternative. ”
Jena’s throat bobbed, and she glanced at Ophelia. “I don’t believe you.”
“I do,” Ophelia whispered hoarsely. She wasn’t sure what she was hearing, but it was getting closer—fast. With that stupid LED on, there were zero shadows in the room to escape into, and even if they could get past Jena’s dad, she wasn’t going to be able to waddle up the stairs fast enough to outrun the Guard.
Jena’s father’s grin widened, like he knew Ophelia had just figured out he was the only option. “Then shall we?” he asked, holding out a hand. A pentagram tattooed over his palm writhed.
They both stared at it, then jumped as something hit the wall behind them, scrabbling. A rat’s snout poked from a crack between two of the stones.