The Dawn of Dae (Dae Portals Book 1) (8 page)

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I grunted, allowing him to decide for himself if I meant yes or no. Sometimes getting information was as simple as letting someone say whatever they wanted without interruption.

If he wasn’t going to spill his guts, then I’d start asking questions.

“Not all of us do,” the artist continued, going back to work tattooing my arm. “I do, though he’s pretty relaxed—until dark, that is. You’ll get used to it. Curfew is between sundown and dawn. Human types like you should stick to it. The really nasty dae come out at night, and they won’t hesitate to take a bite or two if you aren’t on your toes.”

The name Kenneth had hissed was back. Who—or what—were the dae?

There was one possibility, and I refused to believe it. If I had truly tested clean, there was a chance Kenneth hadn’t actually drugged me. If he hadn’t, were my hallucinations
reality
?

There was no way. Dragons, winged werewolves, three-headed giraffes, and sentient macaroni and cheese with an interest in parkour simply didn’t exist. Vampire tattoo artists didn’t, either.

“Great,” I grumbled. “Are you one of those really nasty dae, then?”

“I could be,” he replied. “This tip is on the house, sweetheart. The ones you can recognize as dae at a glance are the weakest. If you’re smart, you’ll keep this in mind: those who look human are usually the most dangerous.”

Chapter Five

The next time a vampire bargained services for blood, I was going to say no. Not only would I say no, I would enforce my refusal with a strand of garlic and a stake driven right up his supernatural ass.

He finished the tattoo as promised, although I had serious doubts on whether or not I’d make it back to my apartment to enjoy it. The hissing snake’s head in black ink on my upper arm was exactly what I had in mind.

I admired his work. “It’s good.”

The artist offered me a stack of bills and displayed his curved and pointy teeth. “It’s good. You’re also delicious. You overpaid. Take the cash, get yourself something to eat, and come back anytime you want to share some of that sweet, sweet blood with me. I won’t even bite unless you want me to.”

I snatched the cash before he could change his mind. “Since when has blood been worth so much?”

“Since dawn brought a lot of dae who love the stuff,” he replied with a shrug. “This morning, to be specific. Get to it, sweetheart. If your dae’s the kind that starts talking once the sun goes down, you better get ready. Baltimore’s going to be a rough town tonight.”

“Just what I wanted to hear,” I grumbled, and testing my luck, I rose from the chair. Years of drugging myself up came to my rescue, allowing me to stay on my feet when I should have fallen. With a wad of cash in hand, I had the means to catch a cab, except the roads were all closed thanks to the madness on the streets. “Those things out there are dae?”

“Sure are,” the artist agreed. He grinned at me one final time, showing off his pointy teeth, and burst into a cloud of sweet-smelling vapor. When the air cleared, a bat fluttered where he had been standing. It flew up to the ceiling and hung upside down from a light fixture.

“Couldn’t you have come up with something a bit more unique?” I demanded. “Really, a bat?”

The man-turned-bat tattoo artist squeaked at me.

I left while I still could, and keeping his advice in mind, I took care on the streets. Thick smoke hung over the city in a shroud, warning me of fires burning somewhere nearby. Really bad riots and disorder hadn’t happened in Baltimore since before I was born, but with the dae rampaging around, I doubted there would be much of a city left when they were finished.

Maybe my apartment, located in one of the better parts of town, would be a safe haven from the chaos. I still wasn’t convinced the tattoo artist was telling the truth. How could so many different and strange species of beings just show up one morning? What had he meant by a dae talking to me?

Colby spoke, although its vocabulary was limited to a single word. Was it a dae? If anything, the fact my macaroni and cheese casserole called me ‘Mommy’ supported the idea I was somehow drugged, likely by Kenneth. An entire city couldn’t change, succumb to chaos, and burn while everyone took it all in stride.

What was the deal with the human-looking dae, anyway? Was Rob one of them?

If so, what made him more dangerous than a flame-puking dog man with wings? Rob didn’t seem all that dangerous at first glance, though there had definitely been something frightening about the way he had faced off against Kenneth without even flinching. Snapping the werewolf’s neck had been scary enough. I hadn’t known, until that moment, someone could have the strength in a single hand to do such a thing.

I still had doubts and lots of them. Maybe I was in a hospital somewhere with a cracked skull due to fainting in my kitchen. At least that scenario made some sort of sense.

I had so many questions and no answers. No matter how strange things were, I couldn’t afford sniffing at Kenneth Smith’s door while shaking from blood loss, hunger, and whatever the hell biting Rob had done to me.

The tingling hadn’t faded; if anything, it had grown stronger. My cheeks flushed. Why had Rob been able to touch me? Of all of the things I had seen since leaving my apartment this morning, experiencing someone’s skin against mine made me hope I wasn’t under the influence of drugs.

I’d never met someone who could touch me without consequence. Kenneth couldn’t. The rash from where his sweat had bled through my shirt still itched. By wearing gloves, the tattoo artist hadn’t added to my misery, although my arm was bruising where he had drawn blood.

I needed food, sleep, and some time to think things through. If I didn’t get something to eat, I wouldn’t make it home to sleep. That would be one way to solve my problems—permanently.

First, I needed to get home alive. I’d figure out the rest later.

Baltimore burned, which made getting to my new apartment interesting. The most direct route was cut off by firetrucks and police cruisers. I gawked at them, wondering how anyone could be organized in the chaos of the dae’s appearance.

Most of the firemen weren’t human—not anymore. Some still
looked
human, but their eyes told a different story. I learned to avoid their gazes. I didn’t like what I saw, and I think they understood I was still just a normal human, a fact that drew far too much attention to me.

Maybe the tattoo artist was right, and
something
was influencing everyone. The dae? Biological warfare? Could Baltimore have fallen victim to a mass hallucinogen? If we were all under the influence of some insane narcotic, it would explain why people were acting like they were—no one would want to be caught under the influence of drugs.

So much had changed so fast, but the rest of humanity—or what was left of it—had accepted the bizarre and downright frightening changes without hesitation. There had to be a logical explanation for it.

I wanted to believe magic didn’t exist, but after all, I had wished my parents out of existence. I flinched, kept my head down, and headed towards home. Logically, I understood it wasn’t my fault their plane had crashed.

It didn’t stop me from wondering if I had somehow been the cause of their deaths.

It was shortly before dark when I trudged my way up the stairs to my apartment and let myself in. I kicked the door shut behind me, sighing my relief.

“Mommy!” Colby squeaked, bouncing towards me to circle my feet. Unlike before, my macaroni and cheese didn’t leave a trail of neon-orange destruction in its wake. I stared at the kitchen.

Everything sparkled, including my accursed refrigerator.

“Wow.” I scratched my scalp, wondering how a creature without fingers, let alone hands, had managed to clean far better than I ever could. “Good job, Colby.”

“Mommy!” Colby bounced onto my foot and bumped against my leg.

I wanted to scream and kick it off, but instead, I dislodged Colby with a careful nudge. Abusing the cleaner of my kitchen wasn’t right, and if it wanted to earn its way by keeping the apartment clean, I’d let it.

I wondered if any of the delivery services were still in business—and if they were serving food
I
could eat. While I had the ingredients for macaroni and cheese, I couldn’t quite bring myself to make it.

How would Colby react to me eating… it? If I made more, would I end up with two batches of sentient macaroni and cheese? Maybe I could name the second one Brie.

I sighed and strode to the refrigerator. Careful of the loose handle, I pulled it open. I blinked when the handle didn’t wiggle in my hand.

Not only could Colby clean, it did basic repairs, too?

“You, Colby, are quite the useful little bugger, aren’t you?” I laughed and steeled myself for the inevitable challenge of making something edible with milk and butter.

Instead of the empty space I expected, my refrigerator was crammed full of food. I blinked at the eclectic collection, which ranged from jugs of orange juice to fruit, vegetables, cheeses, and even loaves of bread.

“What the hell?” I blurted, slamming the door closed. When I opened it, the food would be gone. I was so hungry I was imagining things.

“Mommy?” Colby jiggled before launching itself up onto the counter beside the refrigerator. It bounced in place, bumping against the side of the cursed appliance.

Drawing a deep breath to steady my nerves, I opened the door again. Nothing had changed. I swallowed, reached inside, and pulled out one of the three jugs of orange juice. It sloshed when I shook it and felt real enough. I plunked it on the counter beside Colby.

If the orange juice was real, maybe the rest of the stuff was, too. There was even meat, including
bacon
. My mouth watered. Bacon was one of those foods I never could tire of but often couldn’t afford. Someone—something?—had even left eggs, though I had no idea why they put them in the vegetable drawer.

I had everything I needed for breakfast, which was sounding better by the minute.

“I don’t know who the hell was in my apartment or why, but if they’re going to leave me food, I’m not going to complain,” I informed Colby.

I had cash from the tattoo parlor, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If someone wanted to keep me supplied with food, I wasn’t going to complain. Hell, I’d leave cash on the counter, so if they did return, they’d be paid back for their generosity.

My macaroni and cheese bounced up and down, plopping and squeaking at me. “Mommy?”

What did macaroni and cheese eat? Puzzled, I stared at Colby. “Milk? Cheese?”

My sentient casserole replied, “Mommy!”

I decided it sounded happy enough, so I pulled out several of the cheeses and the milk. Reaching up to the cupboards, I pulled down some plates and a bowl, taking care of my new friend first. Was Colby a friend? I didn’t know—and after a moment of thought, I decided the creature was friendly enough. If Baltimore was suffering from a mass hallucination, I’d just have a moldy mess to clean up later.

I could deal with that. If Colby
was
real, at least I wasn’t burning bridges.

I left it an offering of assorted cheeses and a bowl of milk for its enjoyment. I had no idea how it would eat, and I was too hungry to watch it. I dug through the cabinets until I found a frying pan and went to work making breakfast for dinner.

Once I wasn’t shaking so much, I’d be better equipped to deal with my growing list of problems. Kenneth Smith still topped the list, but I had the feeling that would change soon enough.