Urban Extinction: A New Adult Paranormal Fantasy Page 4

  “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.

  “Come on,” Egan said. “I don’t want to linger here longer than we have to.”

  “Neither do I,” Livia said.

  They closed the door behind them and stood in the cramped office with damp walls and slick concrete floors. Crates and file cabinets awaited.

  “This is going to take forever,” Livia said, surveying their surroundings. The smell of wet paper and stale air made her cover her nose.

  “You take this side, and I’ll take this one,” Egan said, pointing. “Teamwork, right?”

  Groaning, Livia nodded. “I guess.”

  Egan nudged her. “The faster we go through the files, the quicker we can get out of here and get some Thai food.”

  That perked Livia right up. She clasped her hands together. “Right. Let’s do it.”

  For what felt like hours, they searched every old manila folder for any clue as to who was responsible for Jason’s death.

  Livia sat behind one of the battered school desks, a pile of folders stacked higher than her head. She placed her phone and her clutch on top of the desk and settled into her work. She flipped through folders, read bios, and stared at pictures. “I don’t see any info about anyone with her abilities. Do you?”

  “Nope,” Egan said. “Which is pissing me off. But what do we have to go on? Turns people to chalk with a kiss?”

  Livia yawned and pulled her damp hair back into tight bun. “She has to be around our age.”

  “I know. I thought the same. There weren’t many blondes back then. There was Sarah, the shapeshifter, and Megan, the witch. That’s all I remember.”

  “Well,” Livia said, “people can dye their hair.”

  “Please, don’t make our job harder. We could be looking for anyone, then.”

  “I just can’t remember her face.”

  “I can,” Egan said. “If I see it again.”

  Livia’s phone buzzed, nearly vibrating across the desk top and to the floor. Egan caught it.

  Her brows furrowed.

  “Alec? Who the hell is Alec?” She asked, showing the phone to Livia.

  Clearing her throat, Livia avoided Egan’s stare and answered, pressing the phone to her ear.

  “Um, hey, Lt. Danvers.”

  Egan’s eyes widened as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “Hey, Liv,” Lt. Danvers said. “I have the toxicology report on my desk. Looks like some new drug was in his system. When you come back to the station, I’ll give you the information.” He gave her a few more details. Then, his voice lowered. “As well as something else.”

  Livia’s cheeks burned. She turned away from Egan and said, “That sounds good, sir. I look forward to it.”

  He chuckled. “I promise to make it good.”

  She disconnected, wishing she had cold water to splash on her face.

  “What do you look forward to?”

  Egan’s voice felt like a pitchfork, tossing guilt in her tummy.

  Livia tried to overlook the expression on Egan’s face as she relayed the information to her. “A new drug was in Jason’s system. Something exotic. The same one that guy was selling that night at the club.”

  Egan nodded, suspicion on her face that Livia knew she’d have to soon address.

  She forced a smile as she hung up. She took Egan by the arm. “Looks like we have a lead.”

  Egan shrugged her off and headed for the door.

  “Yes,” Egan said. “Let’s go then.”

  Dread washed over Livia.

  It was time to tell Egan the truth. But first, they had to go talk to one of the scumbags of the earth—Renner Müntz—in a place that could compete with hell.

  They headed to Oblivion Maximum Security Prison, one of the darkest places on the planet.

  Egan

  Dread sent icy chills of apprehension up Egan’s neck as she sped up the winding roads toward the prison known as Oblivion. Fog gathered in wispy clouds, smothering the landscape. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she peered through the windshield. She had to flick the lights to dim while in a fog bank
, driving at a grandmotherly speed, then back to high, as they popped in and out of the white condensation pouring across the hills. Soon this entire valley would be socked in.

  The prison—a dark and dirty structure that always seemed to be in shadow—loomed in the distance. An ore processing factory—the kind that spewed toxic fire and foul smells from its smokestacks—surrounded the prison. Mined in distant places Egan didn’t care to know about, melted and hammered into shape by the prisoners, the resulting metal structures were sent to hospitals around the world.

  The metallic substance could far out live stone, brick, plastics, and all other metals. It had the strange ability to regulate heat inside a building, saving companies hundreds of thousands in electrical bills.

  The sought-after structures came at a cost, however. Newsfeed articles constantly featured stories of the deaths of those who worked at the factory. The work was brutal and the environment poisonous. No one else in their right mind would ever work there.

  “We need to talk,” Livia said. She hadn’t said a word since climbing in the car.

  “Can you believe this place?” Egan said, pointing up the hill. “Most people don’t believe in magic but this place must be cursed by some warlocks. This whole area is a nightmare.”

  “Did you hear me? We need to talk.”

  “I can’t understand why hospitals would want to use metals shaped by depraved individuals.” Egan shook her head. “I read an article last week—something about the conducive properties of this particular rare ore and how they use it to direct those new healing rays to cancer patients. Crazy, huh? Maybe the energy of the depraved sticks to the metal and that’s what does the healing. It attracts the cancer. You know, like follows like?” She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  Livia put her hand on Egan’s arm. “Egan, would you listen to me? We need to talk.”

  Egan’s head whipped in Livia’s direction for one brief second before directing her attention back on the slick roads.

  “You need to talk. But I’m not in the mood for listening, okay? I hate this place.” She scrubbed her hand in the air, tiny sparks shooting from her fingers, wishing she could cleanse this entire landscape. She balled her hand into a fist, shutting off the light show. “Hate it. So, let’s get this over with and then if you feel the need for true confessions, we can deal with it. But not now.”