Unhidden (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1) (5 page)

Knowing I could use a few more hours of shut-eye, I made my way back upstairs and crashed.

I awoke again at four thirty p.m., dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a loose, white peasant top that hung off one shoulder, and slid on my favorite black boots. They were soft, knee-high leather with heels that were high enough draw attention to my legs yet not so high they impeded running or fighting. In fact, my boots were outfitted with steal tips in the event I needed to participate in an unexpected brawl. I wore my dark hair long and wavy. Then, after a little blush and lipstick, I was ready to go.

There was really only one place I ever went when I needed to either unwind or party, depending on my mood—The Raines Law Room. Raines was only six short blocks from my apartment, but it wasn’t an easy place to find unless you were specifically looking for it. It was a bar in the speakeasy style of the 1930s. Its entrance was under an unmarked black awning and down a flight of stairs from street level. In order to be granted access, you had to ring a bell next to the unassuming door and be escorted inside. Once you were in, it was a sight to behold: all dark and plush, covered in velvet, and exuding sexy with a drizzle of cognac. It felt exclusive and sophisticated, but most importantly to me, private and discreet.

The space was segregated into four distinctly designed rooms. The Kitchen, lined with sophisticated black cabinetry, trimmed in cream and topped with white marble, where guests could wait for a table or watch mixologists prepare drinks. The outdoor Garden with its trellises, fresh herb plants and park benches that were illuminated in candlelight during the evening hours.

When I was feeling particularly social, I liked to spend time in The Lounge. There were always impeccably dressed businessmen congregating on the room’s Chesterfield sofas and around its wood-burning fireplace, sipping drinks and congratulating each other on some job well done.

Most of the time, though, I headed straight for The Parlor and one of the high-backed, chocolate velvet banquettes enclosed by a set of opaque curtains. The curtains were sheer enough to allow me to observe the bar that ran the length of the opposing wall yet didn’t allow an observer to see inside. I was a frequent enough regular that I rarely had to wait for a banquette even on the busiest of nights, and tonight was no exception.

“Welcome back, Miss Hayes. We haven’t seen you in a few days,” said the hostess, Lauren, with a pleasant smile.

“Hi, Lauren. I was traveling overseas on business.” I returned her smile. Although I knew her by name and had seen her every week for more than a year, I didn’t know anything about her, and I wasn’t all that certain what that said about me.

“I hope you went somewhere fun,” she said, leading me to my usual banquette in the Lounge—the one situated closest to the exit, just in case I needed to make a hasty retreat.

“Not really. I was tied up working most of the time and didn’t even get the deal done in the end.” I supposed that was technically true.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you’ll have better luck next time.” She gave me a polite smile, placing a drink menu on the table as I slid into the curved banquette.

She had started to walk away when I called out to her. “Hey, Lauren, are you from New York originally?”

She paused, looking over her shoulder at me. “No, I’m from Oklahoma. I want to be an actress, so I’ve been working hard to get rid of the accent. Did you notice it?” she asked, frowning, her eyes worried.

“No,” I said at once. “I was just curious.”

“Oh, okay.” She hesitated, as if she were about to say something more, perhaps to seek further assurances, but then thought better of it and walked away with less bounce in her step than she’d had before. And that was one of the many reasons why I tried not to take an interest in people. It always backfired on me in one way or another.

When my waitress came over, I ordered an Arsenic & New Lace and made no attempt at small talk. She brought me my drink within minutes and closed the curtain when she left, plunging me into my own Fortress of Solitude. I leaned in to take a sip of my gin and absinthe concoction, satisfied with the burn that sent warmth radiating through my body.

Reaching into my shirt, I pulled out the chain that held the mysterious amulet. It was a difficult piece of jewelry to hide well, given its size, which is why I had chosen to wear a loose-fitting top. I turned the amulet over in my hands, taking in every detail. Running my fingers over the smooth stone at the heart of the amulet, I swear I could feel a very subtle vibration. It felt like the thrumming of a live electrical wire, although perhaps that was just my imagination. I traced the swirls etched into the gold, thinking not for the first time that the patterns seemed distinct, some of which repeated. Perhaps they weren’t simply decorative. Maybe they were some form of writing.

Just then, the curtain enclosing my banquette was jerked aside, and I found myself looking upon the human equivalent of a Greek god, or so he seemed to think of himself. Jason Ryker stood there with his usual smirk, knowing full well the effect he had upon every woman, and even some men, who’d had the fortune to look upon his magnificence. I supposed that wasn’t an entirely fair characterization of his ego. He was certainly aware of the fact that all eyes turned to him when he entered a room, and he took quite a bit of enjoyment from it, but his egomaniac persona was more for humor value than because he actually thought of himself as the embodiment of male perfection.

Jason was tall, about six-foot-three, and built like a fighter, broad and muscular. He didn’t have the bulk of a football player and also didn’t have the leanness of a runner or swimmer; he was somewhere in between. He had golden skin and dark wavy hair, hinting at his Latino heritage, even though his eyes were a pale green. They were all the more striking against his full, dark lashes. His features were strong and chiseled, but it was his stunning smile that drew people in. Infectious and warm, it set off the dimples in his cheeks and made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

That full wattage smile was now directed toward me, but I faced the challenge and tried not to respond in kind. He was impossible when he thought he had a willing audience. “Hey, sugar!” he drawled, over-emphasizing his Texas accent. “You look hotter than two rabbits screwin’ in a wool sock.”

I stared just at him, having never really gotten used to his creative southern colloquialisms.

A smaller, slighter figure slipped out from behind Jason and into the booth to sit on my left, giving me a warm hug. No one else except Daniel would have been able to get away with that kind of uninvited physical contact.

“Hey, little bro.” I hugged him tightly in return.

“You scared the frack out of me,” he said in a rush. “What happened? I saw … I don’t know what I saw. I mean, I think I know what I saw, but …”

“Take a breath, Danny.” He must have been worried. He didn’t even berate me for using my old nickname for him. Years ago, he had made me start calling him Daniel instead of Danny because it sounded more mature. “I am feeling much better, by the way. Thanks for asking.” I smirked in amused disapproval.

He looked abashed for not having asked after my well-being, given the injuries I had sustained. Jason snickered, enjoying Daniel’s discomfort, as he slid into the banquette on my right. Jason was an ardent fan of schadenfreude, taking pleasure in the pain of other people.

“Your bodily condition is always top on my mind,” Jason said with a wink, making an obvious show of looking me up and down. “And you are looking quite healthy to me.”

I gave him a light jab with my elbow while Daniel ignored the exchange. He was used to Jason’s ridiculous, over-the-top flirtations.

The waitress came by and took beer orders for Jason and Daniel and a refill order for me, closing the curtain again on her way out. As she did, the mood in the banquette became more subdued.

I looked down into my empty glass, wishing the waitress would hurry and bring me another. I wanted the added liquid courage before starting this conversation. I needed to know what they had seen, what they had experienced. I was hoping they had seen the same things I had so I would know I wasn’t going crazy. At the same time, if they had seen those things and they were real, what did that mean for the world? I couldn’t even fathom the implications of it at that moment.

I took a breath and steeled myself for their answers either way. “I need you guys to fill in the blanks for me. What happened after … after I came running out of the house?” I couldn’t bring myself to say, “after I was bitten by a little snake girl.” God, that sounded completely ridiculous.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” said Jason, waggling his eyebrows, but with curiosity and expectation in his eyes.

I supposed it was only right for me to get the ball rolling. I played back for them everything I had experienced that night in the compound. I considered holding back or glossing over the description of the creatures that had attacked me, worried they would think me completely insane, but I knew I needed honesty from them, and they deserved nothing less from me. After all, we were in this together, and we needed to share information if we were going to figure it out.

After I finished my story, I looked expectantly between the two men. Jason gave nothing away, his poker face firmly in place, whereas Daniel looked concerned yet thoughtful.

“Ghouls,” he said after a few moments of silence. Jason and I shot him a questioning look. “What you described,” he clarified. “Those creatures sound like a description of ghouls. Geez, didn’t you guys ever play
Dungeons & Dragons
?”

That got a reaction from Jason. He snorted in derision, as if he would never in his life have been caught dead acting in such a geeky fashion as to play fantasy role-playing games.

Ignoring Daniel, I turned to Jason. “Tell me what you saw.”

Jason was quiet, looking off in the distance, as though he was trying to find the right words. When he started speaking, it was slow and deliberate, but he used a calm, matter-of-fact tone, like he was giving a military field report to a commanding officer.

“After I took out the hostiles guarding the grounds so you could gain access to the compound, I moved to a higher position on the ridge overlooking the front of the building to be in a position to cover your exit if needed. A little girl emerged from the house twenty-six minutes after you went in. I saw her head for the gates and figured Daniel would pick her up since he was waiting for you just outside the perimeter. But she was just hanging out by the compound wall. I was about to radio Daniel to go in and retrieve her when you came out. You were running at break-neck speed, and two seconds later, a large, reptile-like creature emerged from the house, hot on your heels.”

I had to give him credit; he didn’t even hesitate when he said it. There was no sign of uncertainty, surprise or embarrassment. He was a soldier through and through.

“It sort of looked like a Nidoking,” Daniel interrupted.

“A what?” Jason and I asked at the same time.

“A Nidoking. It’s a reptilian Pokémon that causes damage by smashing things with its tail.” We both stared at him in silence. “What?” he asked, turning up his hands in a bewildered shrug at the exasperation evident on our faces.

Jason gave him a withering look then continued. “I took it down with five rounds to the head and neck. Tough sucker. Then I saw you approach the girl and figured you would take her out of there. I didn’t really see what happened next, but you went down. I didn’t realize the girl was a threat until you blew the C-4. I figured you wouldn’t have risked her life with an explosion that close unless you meant to.”

I nodded, affirming his suspicions.

He continued, “That’s when things got a little weird.”

“
That’s
when it got weird?” I asked. “And here I was thinking it was odd that I had been attacked by ghouls and a Pokémon.”

With a quick, cheerless smile, he continued, “That guy walked right out of an inferno without even a singe and deflected an entire clip of ammo. Then he picked you up and started to carry you off. That’s when Kung Foo Panda here”—he nodded at Daniel—“ran in to kick his ass.”

“It didn’t work so well,” said Daniel, dropping his head. “Even while he was holding you, he blocked every one of my kicks and punches single-handedly then just waved his hand, and I felt this wall of energy slam into me. It threw me back about one hundred feet and knocked enough wind out of me that I couldn’t recover on time to get to you. When I was finally able to get back on my feet, you were both gone.”

“I was watching it all,” said Jason, “but I didn’t see what happened either. It was like you were there one second and gone the next. When that guy waved his hand, my night vision goggles just shorted out. They went completely white, like someone had turned on a spotlight. But, when I tore them off my head, it was still pitch black outside, and you were both gone.”

“I didn’t see any flare of light,” Daniel said.

“So, how did you find me in that cave?”