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  Livia frowned, her mind throwing up more brick walls.

  Egan decided not to press the issue, at least for the moment.

  Instead, she said, “It’s the strangest thing. When I tried to think of what the woman looked like who was kissing Jason, my mind came up empty. I’ve got great recall.” She fished free her key-fob and unlocked the ‘Vette. “Thanks for covering for me, by the way.”

  She flashed a warm smile at Livia.

  “Any time,” Livia said, sliding into the passenger seat. “That’s awful—about Jason, I mean.”

  “It is. I can’t make heads or tails of it. What would make him chalk white?”

  Livia shrugged. “Who knows?” She closed the door.

  Egan nestled behind the steering wheel. She loved the sleek comfort and speed of her Corvette. When she was away from city life, she’d floor it, zooming through country roads, feeling free—something she seldom felt in her normal daily life.

  She stared at the place where they’d found Jason. A dark blood stain marked where he had been placed.

  She flipped on the headlights, illuminating the street. “Yeah, and out here of all places.”

  She waved her arm at their surroundings.

  “I know.” Livia shuddered. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  Egan pressed the gas pedal and they sped off, heading toward Club Akeldema They pulled up outside the club at around three a.m. A sign on the door read “closed.” Egan strode toward the entrance, pounding on it with her fists.

  “Go away,” a man shouted from inside.

  “This is the police,” Livia said. She turned to grin at Egan. “I never get tired of saying that, do you?”

  Egan smiled as the satisfying sound of locks turning met their ears. “Nope. Nor do I tire of seeing their faces when they see who…”

  The door flew open and a balding man stood, blinking at them. His suit jacket appeared rumpled, like he’d slept in it—either that, or wore it for two days straight.

  “What is this?” he growled. “You said you were the police. You’re far too pretty to be the…”

  “We’re consultants,” Egan said, brushing him aside as she strode through the door. She squinted, trying to adjust to the harsh lights.

  The man hurried around her, blocking her from entering the main floor. “We’re closed. Trying to get out of here.”

  Egan and Livia peered over his shoulders.

  Clinks and loud clatters, and then the hiss of water, came from the kitchen.

  A couple of huge guys in suits sat at a corner table—presumably the club’s security—tossing back shots.

  A woman swept the floor with a large broom, her movements swift and hurried.

  “Are they off duty?” Livia asked the man. She pointed to the beefy guards.

  “Yep.” He tugged at his shiny blue tie, loosening it. “Look. It’s late. It’s been a long day. I want to go home. What can I do for you?”

  He stood as a barrier between she and Livia, and the rest of the club.

  “Thanks for offering. We’ll have a couple shots, too, right Liv?” Egan winked at her.

  “Right,” Livia said.

  “Jameson for me,” Egan said.

  “Same,” Livia said.

  “I didn’t offer,” the man spluttered as they sidled past him like water around a stone.

  “Can you tell the owner we’re here to speak to him about an important matter?” Egan said, settling onto a bar stool.

  “You’re talking to him,” the man complained.

  “Super. Name’s Egan. This is Livia.” She peeled back her jacket, revealing the badge on her belt. “Shots, please.”

  His expression a study in gloom and discontent, the man stalked around the bar-top. He reached for the Jameson, whacked a couple shot glasses on the solid wood, and proceeded to pour.

  When he finished, Egan picked hers up and held it out to Livia.

  “To solving tonight’s mystery,” she said.

  They clinked glasses and tossed the whiskey down their throats.

  “I always think better after a Jameson, don’t you, Liv?” She smiled.

  “Absolutely.” Livia returned the smile. “Now, let’s get down to business. We’d like to see the camera footage from tonight.”

  The club owner placed his palms on the counter and leaned forward. A stringy strand of graying hair fell into his eyes. “Not happening. This is a private establishment. Our patrons know we respect their privacy.” His gaze fell to something behind the bar.

  Egan craned her head to see what caught his attention.

  The owner swept what looked like tiny baggies of white powder into a drawer.

  Looks like cocaine, she projected to Livia. “Well, then…” Egan said the words slowly, as if he made perfect sense. “What business of it is ours to pry, right Liv?”

  “I don’t think we have any business prying in a club’s private business, Egan,” Livia said, a look of adorable innocence on her face. “If you don’t mind us doing drug sweeps every night this week.”

  She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “What? That’s a death sentence!” He threw his hands into the air.

  “And the week after,” Egan added. “More, please.”

  She gestured toward the Jameson.

  Scowling, the owner reached for the whiskey and poured them both another finger of alcohol.

  “Thank you,” Egan said, hefting her glass to Livia’s. “To the owner’s cooperation and willingness to retrieve the security footage.”

  She tapped Livia’s glass once more.

  “I second that,” Livia said. “Or, we could toast to drug sweeps. And, there could be other investigations. One of your patrons showed up dead tonight at the other side of town. It’s your choice, Mr.…What did you say your name was again?”

  “It’s Danny. Danny Evers.” He looked apoplectic. “I’ll go turn it on. Wait here.”

  He held out his hand like commanding two German Shepherds to sit and stay.

  “I love it when they see reason,” Egan said. She leaned toward Livia. “That’s where they were.” She lifted her hand toward the corner table. “The pair was sitting right over there where Huey and Dewey are sitting.” She indicated the bouncers who sat eying them hungrily. “Jason looked paler and paler the more they kissed.”

  “How could you tell? They always have the strobe lights running.” Livia’s face was lined with concerned interest.

  “I don’t know. I swear he looked white as a sheet. And he started to sway. But I hustled after you and forgot about it until seeing his dead body tonight.” Egan drummed her fingers on the countertop. “Do you think the girl was a vampire?”

  Livia shook her head. “No. His skin looked unreal. It almost looked like clay or flour. I’ve never heard of a vampire doing that. They just leave a bloody mess behind for us to clean up. And, they seldom shoot their victims.”

  “True.” Egan lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip.

  Danny Evers returned, waving a remote. “Okay, okay, I’ve got it cued up. Here.”

  He pointed the remote at the television overhead.

  Images of people dancing, drinking, and partying flashed in front of their eyes.

  “What are we looking for?” Danny asked.

  “We’ll let you know when we find it,” Egan said, her gaze focused on the screen. Her hand shot out, pointing at the television. “There. Right there. Stop.”

  The picture froze.

  “Back it up. Better yet, give me the remote.” She seized the device out of Danny’s sweaty grasp.

  “Hey, boss,” one of the beefy guys called. “Bring us another shot.”

  Danny’s lips pressed together but he complied, scurrying toward them, bottle in hand.

  Egan rewound a few seconds until the footage showed Jason Chambers at the corner table. Sitting with no one? “That’s odd, where’s the girl?”

  “Maybe she arrived later?”

  “No, look. That�
��s the guy who hit on me right after I saw the couple. He’s bee lining it for me.” She pointed at the vampire who had tried to impress her with the meaning of the club’s name. Egan called to Danny who now sat with the guards. “There’s no zoom feature on this, is there?”

  He turned to give her his attention. He seemed to puff up with pride. “State of the art security, baby.” He gave her a thumbs-up.

  Livia projected, Drug traffickers love to have high tech gear to protect their asses.

  Egan smirked.

  Danny held his hand up like it was the remote. “Press this button.” He pointed toward the left side of his palm. “The one with the plus sign.”

  Egan pressed and the image enlarged, even though it was fuzzy. “Look, Liv, see what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I see it. He’s growing paler. But he doesn’t appear to be with anyone.” She let out a snort. “It’s like he’s kissing a make-believe person. And groping his invisible friend.” She giggled. “He looks like an idiot.”

  “Right?” Egan said.

  Danny tromped across the room in their direction. He paused, staring at the monitor. “That’s…that’s Jason Chambers,” he said, his face appearing as pale as the man on-screen. “Are you telling me he’s dead?” His voice sounded shaky.

  Egan barely glanced at him, ignoring his question. “I think we have what we need. We’re going to have to confiscate that tape, Danny.”

  “Yes,” Livia said. She got to her feet and held out her hand. “Give it here.”

  With trembling fingers, Danny retrieved the tape and placed it in Livia’s palm.

  “Thanks so much for your cooperation,” Livia said, as the two women sashayed from the club.

  “And the shots,” Egan called over her shoulder. Once the door had slammed behind them, she said, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Oh, yes. We’re dealing with an unknown supernatural,” Livia said.

  “How can it be unknown? We lived with every kind of supe known to humankind.” Egan paused, tapping her lips with her fingertip. “Where can we get answers?”

  Livia wrinkled up her nose. “I think you know.”

  “No!” Egan said. “No way we’re going back there.”

  Livia nodded. “What choice do we have? They’re the best freak-show study site on the planet.”

  Egan threw back her head and let out a groan. “I hate that place.”

  Livia reached for her hand and tugged her toward the car. “So, do I. But, we need answers. And they’ll have them. I think we need to dig around in the archives of our old nightmarish stomping ground—Psi-3891.”

  With a sigh of trepidation, the two women set forth to visit Psi-3891, the last place on earth either of them would like to ever see again.

  Livia

  The next morning, Egan and Livia headed out of the city to the place they both wished they could purge from their memories. The only thing positive that ever occurred there, was meeting one another.

  As Egan drove, Livia stretched her legs out onto the dashboard and reclined her seat.

  “You remember anyone with the ability to drain someone to white through kissing? I’ve searched my brain all night.” Livia asked, looking out the window at the tall birch trees stretching high into the gloomy, overcast sky.

  She held her cup of coffee from the local cafe in her hands, letting it warm her palms. The scent of vanilla and caramel was pleasant, but did little to prepare her for what lay ahead for their day.

  “I don’t,” Egan said, shaking her head as she weaved her way through traffic and toward the interstate. “You’d think we’d remember something as odd as that.”

  “Oh, I remember some craziness,” Livia said, taking a sip of the coffee. “But, there are some fuzzy bits I can’t quite piece together.”

  Egan glanced at her. “Me too, Liv.”

  A moment of silence passed between them, and the air grew thick with tension.

  In a soft voice, barely above a whisper, Livia looked down at her coffee. “Do we have to go back, Egan?”

  Egan took one hand from the steering wheel to place it on top of Livia’s. “I know, sweetie. I don’t want to go back either. But, we have each other.”

  Livia forced a smile. “We always have.”

  “We always will,” Egan replied, giving Livia’s hand a squeeze.

  The asylum.

  It loomed over them like a Gothic castle, dark and foreboding, as if warning them to stay away. Any sane person would have. Livia and Egan had never been accused of being sane, however.

  The universe must have felt the gravity of this homecoming, for the dark sky crackled with lightning and released cold droplets of rain onto their heads.

  “Just our luck,” Livia said, following Egan as she ran up the cracked stairs that led straight to the front door of the building. “Even God doesn’t want us back here.”

  Their boots splashed dark water as they made their way to the top.

  Livia stood under the awning, which hung heavy and twisted from lack of care. She turned to look back toward the car. When she turned back, she met Egan’s hard gaze.

  “We’ve come this far. We’re doing this.” Egan knocked on the door.

  “Don’t you remember how hard it was to escape?”

  “Of course, I do. That’s one of my only good memories. We got our nightly knock-out meds. The nurse started to sweep our mouths with her latex clad finger to make sure we swallowed them.”

  “But I planted a thought in her brain that she was needed elsewhere.” Livia grinned.

  “Right. Then, I snuck into the laundry room and set everything on fire.” Egan smiled, too.

  “And then you burned the back-exit door while the staff dealt with the fire.”

  “Yes.” Egan rubbed her arms with her palms. “I was so scared they’d catch us before we turned eighteen.”

  “Oh, my God, me too. We both did. I think I’d kill myself before being institutionalized again.”

  “Christ, Liv, don’t talk that way.” Egan leaned on the doorbell again.

  Livia shivered and looked out at the bleak countryside. No one could hear you scream for miles. She squeezed her eyes shut at that notion. How many times had she cried out for someone to save her?

  Feeling ill, she leaned against the stone wall of the asylum and took in a few deep breaths.

  Egan held her by the forearm. “Liv? You okay?”

  Livia nodded, but kept silent. Her mind focused on calming her breathing and forcing out the thoughts that threatened to send her running back to their car in tears.

  The door opened. Livia turned to face whomever stood between them and what they’d come for. “Sister Mary?”

  “Good lord,” the nun said.

  Relieved, Livia cracked a small smile for Sister Mary-Margaret Chabot. Only about a decade older than Livia and Egan, Sister Mary was their only savior during their time in the asylum. Fresh, young, and kind, she came to the asylum with true intentions, and saved them from the worst of what the institution had to offer.

  Livia couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around Sister Mary and buried her face in her dull blonde hair. The scent of lavender brought back a flood of memories.

  “I can’t believe it’s you two. What are you doing here?” Sister Mary asked, clutching Livia in a tight embrace. If there was one person that would be a mother figure for Livia and Egan, it was Sister Mary.

  “We came to see look at some old files,” she said, returning the hug. “We work for the police now.”

  When Livia pulled away, Sister Mary beamed.

  “Do you? I’m so proud. If anyone could succeed in life, you two could.”

  “What are you still doing here?” Egan asked.

  Sister Mary ushered them into the dimly lit foyer and closed the door behind them. “Where else would I go? I made a vow to look after this old place. After the authorities cleaned out the bad, I was left with children that needed my support and love.”

  �
��Wow,” Egan said, turning around to take in their surroundings. “Nothing has changed.”

  “Oh, but it has, dear. This is a place for good now. The evil has been banished.”

  “You can’t wipe away the evil that easily,” Egan said, looking up at the paintings stretched across the vaulted ceiling. “I can still feel it here. We need some sage and a shaman.”

  Livia giggled.

  “Nonsense,” Sister Mary said. “I’ll not have that pagan nonsense spoken before me.”

  Egan shot her a look.

  “You know what they did to us,” Egan said. “Liv and I were considered real freaks, her with her mind control and me with my Umbra-Pyrokinesis. They tortured us here. We’ve seen real evil, and when I say I can still feel it, you should listen. It clings to the air, like a blanket trying to smother us all.”

  “Egan,” Livia cautioned. You’re upsetting her.

  Sorry. Egan softened her gaze. “But, maybe it’s just me.”

  Sister Mary pursed her lips. She turned her back on them. “Come now. You said want to look at the files, correct?”

  “Yes,” Livia said. “We promise to be in and out as quickly as possible.”

  “No rush. I’m taking the children to the inner garden for the afternoon. Follow me.”

  She led them down a series of hallways that made the asylum feel more like a maze than anything else.

  Steeped in memories, Livia hugged herself, recalling the time Egan had raced down this very hall, fighting off the drugs she’d been dosed with, to find her. Afterward, they’d both been beaten and locked in isolation. Little did they know—she and Egan could keep in touch, mind to mind.

  Sister Mary unlocked a door with an old, brass key. She swung open the door and stepped aside for them to enter. “All that’s left is in those cabinets and crates in the corner.” She pointed past old wooden desks shoved against the walls. “I’m afraid most of the files were destroyed. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

  Livia nodded and watched as Sister Mary left them to go down the hallway that led to the old kitchens.

  It was odd being back there, and Egan was right. Livia could feel the overwhelming sense of dread as well. She shuddered, the sensation of being watched creeping over her skin.