Sacrifice (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult) (14 page)

“What in the
fuck are you guys talking about?” Mike finally asked.

“I promise I
will explain everything eventually, but right now, I just have to take care of
this.” I patted his shoulder like he was a child. Mike didn’t need to know, so
I wasn’t going to tell him. Cyrus hadn’t filled me in to protect me and
himself, I was sure, and for the same reasons, I wouldn’t damn Mike to the same
occult hell spiral.

“Over my
dead body.”

“That can be
arranged,” Cyrus said under his breath. He let out a heavy exhale and stood.
“There’s no need to argue. I’m going back alone.”

“The hell you
are.”
Tell me I can’t do something.
I
stomped over to the table in the entryway and snatched up my keys. I didn’t
look back when I swung open the door and left them all sitting in there
watching me walk away.

I was
halfway down the walkway when I heard Cyrus and Mike practically fighting each
other to get through the doorway.

“Dylan,
stop!” Mike yelled, bossing me around as usual.

“Dylan, it’s
not safe for you and you know it.” Cyrus followed after him sounding more like
a father than a lover.

I didn’t
listen to either of them. I made it to my car door before either of them had
their hands on me. When the first grabbed my arm, I thought perhaps they’d
clamber around together and carry me back inside. Instead, each yelled at the
other not to touch me as they both held me tightly around each arm.

“Get your
hands off her! She’s not going anywhere with you!” Mike bellowed.

“I don’t
want her with me! She’s not safe with me!” Cyrus yelled back.

If either of
them took a moment to hear the other, they’ would have realized they were
arguing when no argument existed. I rolled my eyes, practically crossing them
in frustration.

“Stop it!” I
screamed and jerked my arms from their grasp. “I’m going to New Orleans to try
and help my friend. I am either going alone or I’m going with your help.”

“Don’t you
realize what
he’s
done to you this
year?” Mike pleaded.

“I’ve done
it to myself, dammit.” I pushed air through pursed lips as I let the full
weight of my admission settle in. I’d done it to myself. I’d done it to her.
“Fine, come with me. I don’t care who helps me. All I know is some fucked-up
shit has happened to me in a very short period of time and I can’t really
handle that very well right now. My best friend is in trouble and I am the
cause of it. I am going to do whatever I can to save her because I love her.” I
closed my eyes and honestly held back tears. “If you love
me
, you’ll help to save
me
in the process, no matter the situation.”

They were
both still for a long breath. Each huffed, “Fine.”

“Thank you,”
I whispered.

I didn’t
bother with
Tweedle
Dee and
Tweedle
Dum again. I turned to go back inside and actually grab a few things for the
trip. Like Mom’s credit card because I’d maxed mine out paying bills over the
summer. Hooray for poverty. She was standing in the doorway watching the whole
thing go down.

“Hey, Mom.”
I hugged her.

“What have
you gotten yourself into?” She shook her head and it bobbed against mine.

“Some heavy
shit, Mom.” I fought the urge to cry.

“When are
you going to stop being an idiot?”
Thanks,
Mom.

“When I’m
dead.” I kissed her on the cheek.

Without a
word, she handed me her Visa. “If those two hunks can’t stop you, neither can
your mother,” she smiled, but it was sad and scared, and I didn’t like it.
“Bring our girl back, please.” I didn’t know if she was talking about me or
Tatum, maybe both. She nodded her head over my shoulder. “Way to go,” she said
with a wink.

That was my
mom for you. She’d kill me if I chose Cyrus over Mike. Shit, she’d kill me if I
chose cheesecake over Mike; she loved him so damn much; but, she sure as hell
wasn’t blind. She knew I had my hands full and in any other situation; those
would be two very pleased hands. Still, this was life and death we were talking
about. No time for love, Dr. Jones.

“Thanks.
I’ll bring your card back in one piece.” She touched my face, handed me my bag,
and nodded me away. She knew me too well than to try to fight the subject. We
all knew how it’d all go down if any one of them tried to stop me from trying
to do anything.

“You douches
ready?” I asked as I sauntered past the two and got into Cyrus’s car parked at
the curb.

Leaving them
no other choice, the two followed suit, and in a minute, we were all sitting in
the car.

“So you
expect me to believe that you’re a vampire?” Mike said with
snark
.

I’d missed a
piece of conversation. A juicy piece it seemed.

“No,” Cyrus
replied in a tone that suggested Mike’s assumption was preposterous, but didn’t
bother to elaborate. “The only thing you need to know is most of your knowledge
is wrong.” Mike grunted a retort but Cyrus ignored him. “What you know of the
world. Or what you think you know.”

“Haven’t we
had this conversation before?” Mike asked correctly.

“Yes, once, before…before
all this. Before you needed to be aware of other forces around you.”

“Like what,
Master Yoda?” Mike asked, in his true skeptical nature.

“Everything
you’ve ever heard or read is true,” he said, ominous tension filled the space
in the car. “Except the sparkling, and the garlic, and
Wolfman
.
Okay, so not everything,” he huffed. “Let me rephrase – things that people make
movies and write books about are real. The facts are wrong, very wrong, but the
bones are there.” Well, no need to sugar, or blood coat things.

“You’re
trying to tell me there are vampires and werewolves and witches and ghosts?”
Mike asked. I could practically hear his eyebrows touching his hairline.

“Basically,”
Cyrus answered plainly. He had never offered up such an easy explanation to me.
Maybe he feared another ass kicking.

“And where
exactly is it we are going?” Mike complained.

“We’re going
to kill a bitch,” I answered for Cyrus.

 
We all slammed our doors in unison. The
instant pressure in my ears made my eyes water and regret my gumption.

“The hell we
are,” he protested.

“Look, I’ve
gotten into shit you can’t understand and –“

“What?
Drugs? Dylan, why didn’t you tell me? I can help you. Do you owe money or
something?” Mike tried to offer help as if my conundrum was a human variety.

“Mike,
you’re never going to accept the facts so please just stop.”

“I’m the guy
with the badge and the gun here. Let me decide what the facts are.”

“You’re such
an ass.” I sighed and dropped my head to my hands. Fuck it, I thought. “When I
was in New Orleans, I pissed off an
über
powerful
voodoo priestess and she sent a bunch of headless zombies busting through my
living room door.” I stopped to take a breath. “Oh, and remember those kids I
beheaded? They worked for her; those buckets of blood in that basement? Hers.
Everything that has transpired since March was because of her. The dead girls,
Reggie, Sam…it was all her.”

He shook his
head in disbelief. “You’re full of shit.”

“I wish that
was the case.” I reached up mindlessly and touched the medallion I wore.

“You guys
are nuts!” he yelled and sat forward in his seat to yell at Cyrus closer. “It’s
all you! You’ve put this shit in her head! You and your Goddamned shit sucking
vampires!” He pointed angrily at the side of his head.

Cyrus sighed
heavily, “Listen. I understand you have a…relationship with Dylan, and I’ll
respect the fact that you love her with your soul; and would never allow harm
to come her way if you could prevent it, even if it meant your life, but you
need to sit down, shut up, and shoot someone when I tell you to. Got it?”

He wasn’t
overly aggressive, but an extreme difference from the man huddled on my bedroom
floor bleeding from his face. He’d been holding back with Mike, and likely
because of me.

Mike looked
like he was about to shove his fist right through Cyrus’s face. His jaw
twitched with rage. I held my breath, waiting for shit to hit the fan. I
grabbed Mike’s attention— I was sure with my Jedi thoughts —and he looked away
from Cyrus and at me. It was a quick look, but long enough for him to see the
stress in my eyes. He swallowed hard. His eyes darted back to Cyrus and
squinted.

He let out a
huff and hit the headrest of the driver’s seat. Cyrus’s head jarred with the
inertia. He gripped the wheel, turning his knuckles white with the pressure. If
I hadn’t been there staring them both down, they’d have likely killed each
other. Well, my money was on Mike, but I couldn’t discount Cyrus. With all that
had come to light I realized there was a lot I didn’t really know about the
man. One of those things could be super human powers, who the fuck knew.

Tension made
it hard to breathe in that oversized cabin of Cyrus’s SUV. I took the liberty
of cranking up the air, turning the knob quickly. Air blasted me in the face
and my hair flitted around my eyes. Cyrus loosened his grip on the wheel. His
head turned to me and he smiled. In one swift motion, he lifted his hand and
brushed the loose hairs off my forehead. It was an intimate gesture and not
intended for my benefit. I could hear Mike’s teeth grit and he clenched them
together. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to me and it definitely wasn’t fair to
Mike.

Instead of
making a big deal about it, I just shook my head and sat back in my seat.
“Drive,” I said as I closed my eyes.

Those two
were a bigger headache than a voodoo bitch with a bone to pick with me. At
least I could kill her. I couldn’t kill these two. Unfortunately.

Maybe I
could just kill myself. There. Problem solved.

Just my luck I’d be brought back as a
fucking zombie.

Chapter Ten

Cyrus used his company credit card to buy all of our plane
tickets. Mike protested at first, offering to pay for both our tickets, but
Cyrus won. I mean literally won. The two raced to the ticket desk, credit cards
in hand. They looked like fools. Like the douche bag derby.
Vagasil
is in the lead with
Summer’s
Eve in a close second.

I didn’t run. Oh, no, I never ran unless I was being chased.
And for once, nothing was chasing me. Other than my purse, not one of us had a
bag. We had nothing. Wallet, keys, phone, that’s it. Mike had to leave his
service gun in the car. We had not one weapon among us. We were literally tits
deep in shit and it was starting to stink.

The woman behind the desk flinched when Cyrus hit her
counter at a full sprint. I could see her thoughts roll through her head even
from yards away. Cyrus was after all Iranian, or Persian, rather, and not to be
stereotypical, but let’s face it, shit happened. She looked even more terrified
when she saw Mike coming up behind him as if he had been chasing him. All was
well when Cyrus presented her his platinum card however.

Money fixed everything. Well, most everything; Sex and drugs
do the rest.

Mike was very near to shoving Cyrus out of the way until it
appeared his senses told him otherwise. Starting a full out brawl in the middle
of LAX probably wasn’t the best idea. Patriot Act and all.

With tickets purchased and flight times approaching, we all
power walked to the terminal. We’d barely made the flight time, and would be
forced to wait another five hours for another flight to Louisiana.

Security was annoying, as usual, but it had to be done. When
all was said and done, we were on the flight and ready for takeoff two hours
after Cyrus sat in my living room pissing off my mom.

No words had been spoken during the drive to the airport.
And other than the “I got this” argument that led to Death Race 2000, nothing
had been said to one another in the airport either. It was time to change that.

In order for us all to be on the same flight, we had to take
whatever seats they had available, but I wasn’t complaining. Cyrus had booked
us first class; it wasn’t like we had to ride in the cargo hold or anything.
But it did prove for a difficult conversation. I sat near the steward station
near the magic curtain that separated the pee-
ons
from us cool folks. Mike was two seats up and one over from me, and Cyrus was
in the seat two down from that. There was much that needed to be discussed; and
not one word of it could be shouted across a quiet plane cabin.

As soon as the seat belt sign was off, Mike was standing and
making his way to sit in the empty seat across the aisle from me. Cyrus watched
him and seemed to assess the seating arrangement. Honestly, I needed Cyrus’s
attention more than Mike’s. Cyrus was the answer man.

“You owe me an explanation,” he demanded.

This is the shit he was good at, and one of the downfalls of
our relationship.

“I owe you shit. You are only here to shut you up. I was
going regardless, and I wasn’t about to have you do something stupid like put
out an A.P.B. or something to keep me off a flight.” I wasn’t fucking around;
it was something he’d do.

“Maybe I should have. This is the most reckless thing you’ve
done yet.” He wasn’t fucking around either. It was the most reckless thing I’d
done.

I was fully aware of what I was getting myself into, unlike
my previous conundrums. This time I was a willing idiot in my own demise. And
all of it for a friend I didn’t even know if I had anymore. Loyalty? Yeah, I
had it. Best not to ask Mike that, he’d disagree, and he’d be right.

What a rotten twat I
am.

My ears caught Cyrus whispering to someone in his row, but I
couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. This isn’t
something I can walk away from.”

“You’re right, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and
that’s your fault. I’m here. I’m with you. I deserve to know what I’ve gotten
myself into.”

He had me there. He didn’t have to come with me, but he did.
He did it because he loved me. Most people spend their lives waiting for
someone to love them as much as Mike loved me. Then I went and fucked it all up
with stupid life choices.

“Hi,” said stupid life choice du jour from the seat directly
in front of me.

“Oh hey.” Was all I could say to his simple
‘hi’.
We were careening through the air at
thirty-thousand-feet toward certain doom and he says, ‘hi’.

Mike just snarled and turned his body to face me more.

“So…” I pushed. “You ready to fill me the fuck in?”

“Do you sit around and think of new ways to insert the word
fuck?” Cyrus asked, expertly avoiding my questions as he so often did.

Yes, I actually did. It was usually while I was taking a
shit. But, that was not his business.

“Can you stop fucking around and tell me exactly how royally
fucked I am? Please.”
Fucker
.

I smiled smugly, but only on the inside. If I let a smile
hit my face, it might take on a mind of its own and distort into some creepy
stress induced sardonic grin. Didn’t want to frighten folks.

“Look, guy, I hopped on this plane knowing only that two
people I care about are in trouble, and only by your word. I need to know all
the information, now, or I might have to assume you are the sole cause for
their trouble.” Mike had his cop face on. It didn’t seem to sway Cyrus.

He’d seen too much by now. I’d seen more than my share in my
short time skimming the surface of the occult. I felt it in my gut that Cyrus
had spent more than his fair share around some seriously scary shit. Detective
Michael Petersen was not a blip on the spooky shit radar.

“You need to know that the only reason I am telling you
anything is because I might need you. Dylan might need you, and at this point,
your ignorance will get us all killed. However, you must understand, you won’t
believe anything I say. Not one word. I am prepared for that. I just need you
to be prepared to be proven wrong, and not get killed when that happens.” It
was a good preemptive strike as far as preemptive strikes went. He laid it out.
He warned Mike. What other choice did he have? Kill him?

Is killing people
your first resort, you fucking psycho? Nip one head and you want to kill
everything.

Mike nodded. Lord only knew if he actually agreed, or just
wanted Cyrus to spit it out already. I didn’t really care. I wanted Cyrus to
spit it out already too.

Cyrus closed his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. I
wondered how many times he’d had to have this conversation. Like, had he
practiced this or was he just as scared as the rest of us nobodies?

“There are things, bad and good, that exist right alongside
you. You see them every day; you just don’t know they are what they are. Your
mailman, your coffee barista, your damn doctor, they are everywhere.”

“Vampires? My doctor is a vampire?” Mike asked
condescendingly.

“Damn it, listen. Vampires, or what you would call a
vampire, aren’t the only thing that is hiding in plain sight.” He stopped and
waited for further comment from the peanut gallery. Peanuts were silent. “All
you must know are they exist and they will not hesitate to defend their secret
by any means necessary.”

“What secret?”

“You’re a detective?” Cyrus teased.

“Nothing is definitive until you see the proof,” Mike
retorted.

“I guarantee you it won’t be long before you have your
proof,” Cyrus promised.

The two were challenging each other without saying it
outright. Mike refused to take anything Cyrus said seriously and Cyrus was
intentionally being vague to piss Mike off. Unfortunately, in the eye of the
storm, their antics would get us all killed.

“Look, you two can have fun killing each other when we are
back in L.A. and back to our lives.”

“Dylan, darling, your life will never be what it was before.
There is a point of no return when it comes to the world under your nose, and
you are one tumble away from it. This choice you’ve made, regardless of your
intentions, has all but sealed your fate. Even if you, and I, and Mike, and
Tatum, are all alive tomorrow morning, not one of you will be the person you
were yesterday. The knowledge you hold, what you will experience from here on
out, will open doors that most human beings never see. And most of them are not
good. How many positive folktales have you heard in your life? There’s a reason
for that. What hides in the shadows is there, and not because it is just too
good to live among humanity. People banished evil to the dark corners, but it
didn’t disappear; it only found better ways to stay hidden.”

“What kinds of things are we talking about here? Vampires?”
Mike inquired, a bit more open to the idea.

“What you would call a vampire, yes. But it’s not as simple
as all that.”

“What else? You owe me that much.” I deserved to know
everything he had to tell, whether or not he’d oblige was up to him.

“You need to understand that these things I’m talking about
are not like what you see on TV. Vampires are make believe. Dracula and the lot
of them are pieces of fiction. But, art imitates life. As they say. Blood is a
necessity, but not the only life sustaining consumption. Food, water, these are
also needed.”

“What about sunlight and garlic and wooden stakes?” Mike
asked, his tone was condescending, but he seemed genuinely intrigued.

“These are all things made up by authors and directors.”

“But I watched Dylan stake those two guys,” Mike pointed
out.

“Two facts – those boys were not ‘vampires’, and shoving
something through a heart generally will kill it.”

“But he was also shot,” he argued.

“I can only attribute that to bad aim and adrenaline.”

“Don’t discount the fact that he was Azelie’s minion, Lord
knows what she had coursing through his veins.” It was my turn to point out
facts.

“Also true,” Cyrus agreed.

“Who the fuck is Azelie?” Mike was catching up, but he was
far from the alpha male.

“A freak of nature I wish I never crossed paths with.”

“She is so much more than you realize. She has power.
Centuries old power, I don’t know how to contend with,” Cyrus admitted with
disdain.

“So, what I’m gathering here is there are vampires, but they
only need blood, and nothing else about them is like vampires we know. Oh, and
there
are
 
powerful
witch people too.” Mike summed it up well.

Cyrus sighed heavily, “Mike…detective, please just listen.
The moment you step off this plane, you become a target. The information you
are about to receive will be the catalyst. And your safety will forever be in
jeopardy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before you took me to
Embrace?” I asked, clinging to the knowledge that I was once just a chubby
little journalist with an idea for a book.

“At that time, you were just a cute girl I was trying to
impress.” Mike choked out a quick insult, but it didn’t stop Cyrus. “I thought
you’d get your fill and lose interest after a night of vampires and fun. If I
had any inclination the recent events were on the horizon, I would not have
involved myself with you and sent you on your way none the wiser.
Unfortunately, of my many accomplishments, knowing the future is not one of
them.”

“Okay, so, we’re all fucked and on a one way ticket to hell.
What are we supposed to do about it?” Mike asked, placing himself in the same
hand basket I sat in.

“Try to stay alive,” Cyrus said.

“Try to not get cursed, I think needs to be on that list,” I
added blankly.

“So, lay it on me. You have my attention. I may not believe
you, but I’m listening.” Mike finally let his head wrap around the possibility
of monsters.

“What you will come into contact with tonight is old, and
with that age has collected decades of knowledge and power. I don’t know her
intentions, but they somehow involve Dylan.”

“Who are these people? Dylan, if you were in trouble, why
didn’t you call me?” Mike asked, still hanging on to earthly issues and earthly
baddies.

“These people, this person, what I have on my shoulders
won’t be swayed by your fancy badge and gun. I’ve only seen a part of what she
can do, and it scared the shit out of me. I know you; you’d run in guns blazing
like you’re actually going to arrest someone and bring them to justice. It
doesn’t work like that here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” he asked me.

“Hell,” I said, not exactly kidding.

“Mike, the woman who has my head in her sights is
responsible for Regina, for the other headless dead girls, for Diego and Sam.
Lord knows how many other
Sams
and
Diegos
and
Reginas
she has out
there. How many other towns and cities are missing their precious hookers and
transients.
”