A Job From Hell (22 page)

"No worse than the time my appendix burst," I said.

Devon turned to face me, smiling. "You're funny. I've heard al about your ride and the wonderful séance."

"Gossip travels fast here. You should get television."

Devon's gaze remained locked with mine. For a moment, he seemed to want to say something, but decided against it.

"I bet Angel's waiting for me," I said.

He nodded, and we walked in silence to the eating quarters where lunch was served. Angel jumped up from her seat and hurried over as soon as she saw us enter. Devon said goodbye and disappeared.

"You took hours. Are you okay? What did she say? She's beautiful, isn't she?" Angel grabbed my hand and pul ed me to our dining table. She started piling steaks, mashed potatoes and vegetables on two plates, then handed me one.

"You must tel me everything, but wait until it's more quiet." Angel nodded toward the curious faces staring at us.

We ate in silence near the window overlooking the woods. Angel finished first and got up to bring us coffee and dessert. She insisted I eat up.

"Trust me, you'l need it. The people here don't sleep a lot. You can only keep up if you compensate with food and caffeine." I shot her a disbelieving look, but she didn't seem to be joking.

"Does she spend al her time in that dark dungeon?" I whispered so the others wouldn't hear us.

"You mean Deidre?" Angel shook her head. "She comes out every now and then to fulfil her duties."

"She seems very young, but the way she speaks—"

"It's freaky, isn't it?" Angel cut me off. "No idea how old she real y is, but legend is the Fates made her queen. She took great care of me when I arrived here. She made everything easier to understand and accept."

We finished our dessert and left, passing through a narrow gate until we reached a corridor with several doors. Angel opened one and entered, motioning me to fol ow.

"This is where I live." She peeled off her jacket and threw it haphazardly over the back of a chair, then went about pouring two glasses of water from a bottle on her dressing table, and handed me one. "Water's good for your skin. They're al so beautiful. I'l take whatever little help I can get."

I sat on the chair and peered around. What should I say? That she was pretty and special? I thought back to that fateful night when I first met Clare. I felt the same way. With al the perfect immortals around her, no wonder Angel's self-confidence was non-existent. I decided to change the subject. "You should be an interior designer with your fantastic taste."

It wasn't a lie. The room was bright and spacious with white wal s and a red carpet covering the marble floor. A large, glass bookshelf was mounted over a long fireplace. On the opposite wal were a four-poster bed and several blooming orange trees in flowerpots. It looked minimalist chic and expensive, straight out of a magazine.

"Thank you." Angel beamed and took a sip of her water as she pointed to a chair. I took a seat and placed my water on the glass table. "Now, tel me what Deidre said. Are they going to train you?"

"Looks like your wish was granted," I said. "I got a life sentence in Shadow Land, whatever this place is."

"Real y?" Angel hugged me tight for a long moment before letting go. "I did wish on the right star."

"Guess that makes one of us."

Angel shook her head. "No, you'l love it here. I promise I'l help you adjust."

I recal ed my encounter with Deidre. Angel kept asking question, forcing me to repeat the exact conversation a few times.

"I wish someone told me what to expect," I said.

"It'd have spoilt their surprise moment. If it wasn't for that vampire, your fate would be a different one."

"Real y? What is my fate?" I didn't want to hear any more gossip, not before I talked to Aidan and let him tel his side of the story, but I couldn't resist.

Angel leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I heard Devon and a few others talking after you arrived. They said if the vampire finds you he'l kil you."

"So, my fate is to die?" I smiled even though fear choked me. Angel nodded, wide-eyed. I smirked. "Awesome."

She wasn't tel ing me anything I hadn't heard from Devon but, coming from a girl I was slowly starting to trust, the words seemed to carry more weight. Why would Aidan want to murder me when I saved his life? He could've kil ed me plenty of times back at the house. Then again, maybe he only kept me alive so he'd learn how to use my gift to reach his precious Rebecca, after I stole the prize from right under his nose. A thought struck me. Did he want to use me as a vessel, like when Patrick Swayze jumped into Whoopi Goldberg's body in the movie Ghost? No guy would turn me into a zombie while Rebecca possessed my body. I jumped at the knock on the door.

"Your new room's ready," a girl said.

"She's in shock," Angel said. "Can you come back later?"

The girl bowed and left. At the back of my mind I wondered why someone would bow in front of a mortal fifteen-year-old, but the thought evaporated just as quickly. Images of a dream flooded my memory. That fateful night when I stole the gemstones, I dreamed Aidan wanted to kil me. Could the gift have warned me? Like a premonition, or—even better—a prophecy? No, a prophecy would imply a definite, imminent death. I breathed in and out, my heart thumping. Talk about a crappy job. The pay wasn't even good enough to warrant the possibility of death.

"Hey, you're safe here," Angel said, rubbing my shoulder. "We'l take care of you."

I shook my head. No, I wasn't safe. He'd come to get me because I had what he wanted. And somehow it was al connected to his dead ex. Or why else would he stil keep Rebecca's clothes and need someone with the ability to communicate with the dead, unless he planned to find and raise his zombie bride?

I spent the day with Angel. Devon popped in a few times to check on us, hesitating a tad too long in the doorway, as though he wasn't keen on leaving us alone, but had more pressing issues to tend to. It was clear the Shadows were waiting for something, but no one would tel me more.

My new room was a surprise: in size very similar to Angel's, but furnished in the colours of late summer leaves, dark green and brownish-red.

Big, giant bed fit for a queen: check.

Over-the-top-bathroom with a Jacuzzi: check.

Magical skylight on the ceiling: check.

Wood fireplace designed in ancient rocks reflecting the love of timeless style: check.

The pad was like something out of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. I spun around slowly as I took in al the details, almost expecting Robin Leach to pop up yel ing, "Champagne wishes and caviar dreams."

I gave up on my escape plan because the window couldn't be opened. Besides, we were hundreds of feet above ground.

After dinner, I retreated to my room with a borrowed book, faking tiredness. As much as I enjoyed Angel's company, I felt a strong need for some solitude. Angel didn't seem too happy, but she caved in. I went to bed early with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

In the middle of the night, I opened my eyes, drenched in sweat. Al traces of sleep gone, I knew instantly something was wrong. A strong wind shook the trees, whistling against the double-glazed window. Somewhere outside, a door slammed. If I stayed in bed, I'd end up tossing and turning for hours, so I pushed the sheets aside and stepped onto the wooden floor.

The fire in the fireplace had died down, but the logs stil gleamed orange in the dark, spreading their last heat. I walked to the chair next to the window and slipped into my jeans and shirt, the cold material turning my skin into goose bumps.

The floor groaned under my weight as I walked to the door. For a while, I just stood there with one ear pressed against the wood to listen for sounds, my heart pounding in my chest. A voice at the back of my mind told me I had to find out what was going on. Maybe it was just the guards on routine patrol or friends leaving after a late night. Should I venture out? Was satisfying my curiosity worth catching frostbites, hypothermia, or a nasty cold? I shivered. The comfortable covers beckoned to me, but something didn't feel right so, natural y, I had to investigate. My heart pounded harder. Just a tiny look, and then I'd return to the warmth of my bed.

I turned the handle quietly and paced onto the corridor. "Here goes nothing," I whispered to myself, glancing left and right.

Several torches were lit, casting flickering shadows on the wal s. Low voices echoed from around the corner. Someone said my name. Were people talking about me? I wasn't into gossip, but they might be mentioning Aidan, and that I couldn't miss.

Holding my breath, I crept slowly toward the voices, when I realised there were more than two people whispering. One was female and obviously excited; the male barely said more than two words. A palm pressed against my mouth. Turning, I shrieked, but the sound remained trapped in my throat.

Blake's voice whispered, "Found her." My heartbeat sped up. Aidan was here. Somehow they had sneaked in, and now they were going to kil me. I punched and kicked, ready to scream should Blake's grip loosen, but he didn't let go. He dragged me around the corner to where Clare hung onto a guy's arm.

"That's her?" the guy asked. "I thought she wanted out. We should've brought cuffs and a gag."

Clare frowned. "What's wrong with you, Blake? This is a rescue mission, not a kidnapping."

Blake shrugged and stepped aside. For a moment, I was stunned to find myself free to move. I opened my mouth to scream, then closed it when Clare gave me a tight hug whispering in my ear, "Us girls have to stick together, right?"

Didn't look like she harboured any murderous thoughts. The other guy turned and I recognised Devon. He helped the vampires now?

My fluttering heart calmed down a little. Whatever was going on, Devon seemed to be leading the whole operation. But could I trust him? I punched him in the arm. "You have some nerve, Shadow boy. Tel ing me I'm crazy for dating a vampire, and here you are with a bloodsucker al over you." I let out a huff. "Guys and their double standards. How long have you been dating Clare, you hypocrite?" Devon shot Clare a questioning look.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Clare said. "Let's get out of here."

"No." I stood my ground. "Aidan wants to kil me."

Clare wrapped her arms around me, pul ing me forward. "That's nonsense, sil y. Now, stay quiet. If they notice us, we're al dead."

I turned to Devon. He truly cared about my welfare. Out of the bunch, he was the only one I was wil ing to believe. "I thought you said Aidan was the bad one and the Shadows the good ones."

Devon smiled, face flickering like bad reception on TV. "You couldn't pay me a mil ion dol ars to live here in Freak Vil e. Deidre's a nutcase."

They sure liked to change their al iances. My gut feeling told me to trust them, but then again it was the same gut feeling that advised me to take the housekeeper job, and that had been a bad move.

"Ready?" Clare asked. When I nodded, she motioned the others to move. Devon shot me a lazy grin. Something moved beneath his slightly tanned skin, stretching and flickering for a few moments. It disappeared as quickly as it started, but I couldn't stop staring at him as he led us through the corridors, halting to sniff the air at every turn. Eventual y, he signal ed us to stop and stay put. Drawing a deep breath, he turned a corner with Blake on his tracks.

"Going out?" a male voice asked, fol owed by a groan and the hard thud of someone dropping to the floor.

This was getting stranger by the minute, double standards al the way. Either Devon was a traitor, or he had a mission to fulfil. He'd been preaching the peacekeeping of Shadow Land, and less than a day later he whacked someone over the head. Why agree to a deal with me when he was clearly helping the vampires to get me out?

"What're we doing?" I whispered to Clare as Devon's head appeared around the corner. Clare just shrugged and pul ed me forward, glancing behind her as if to ensure no one was fol owing.

The door stood wide open; a strong gust of wind whipped against my skin as I fol owed Clare out into the night. I couldn't help but picture Mel Gibson in Braveheart, shouting "FREEDOM" at the top of his lungs.

"We need to be fast," Blake said, elbowing Devon. "You're a big fan of races, so show us what you've got." In a fluent motion, Blake draped me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing, knocking the breath out of me.

The trees blurred to a continuous line of darkness as we sprinted past, branches hitting and scratching my arms. Hanging upside down, I held on to Blake's waist, fighting the nausea rising inside my stomach. Several times I thought I heard voices cal ing my name, but when I held my breath to listen, al I could hear was the howling of the wind.

A few minutes later, Blake stopped and put me down next to Clare. I peered around, dizzy from the bumpy ride, mumbling, "I hope you get a speeding ticket." The forest stretched around us as far as I could see. It didn't look different from the woods I'd visited in my childhood when camping with my parents. If it weren't for the bad weather and the scary vampires, I could've been in Cornwal .

Devon—his face flickering again like a light bulb going on and off—reached us a few seconds later. The flickering thing stopped, and I gasped.

It wasn't Devon standing before me, but a tal , large guy about my age, clad in ragged clothes and gleaming red eyes. He looked like a relative of Cass's. How could I've been so stupid and fal for their trick? I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping it'd wake up the forest and beyond. My legs turned, ready to head back up the muddy path, but Blake clamped his hand around my mouth once again, pressing me against his chest until he squeezed al air out of my lungs. Choking or not, I wouldn't surrender easily. I kicked and tried to bite, arms charging to the sides to grab hold of a branch I could use as a weapon. Clare stepped forward and restrained my legs, whispering something I didn't understand.

"Looks like the lass doesn't want to be saved," Cass's relative said.

"Give her a break. She's been in there for almost two days. Who knows what kind of stuff they fil ed her head with." Clare pul ed a face and tightened her grip, talking slowly as though to a child. "Amber, this is Thrain. He's a friend. Trust me and I'l explain later." She took a deep breath.