The Midnight Society: Penumbra Part 33

"No s.h.i.+t," I said, surprised.

"After that, Duckface disappeared for a while. It's only in recent reports that he's resurfaced, taking on work as a hired gun. What you said, him bringing a little girl with him to the hit, seems consistent with what I've heard. Duckface Duncan has become quite notorious amongst the inner circles."

"This is the first I heard of him."

"I'm surprised," Leah said.

I sighed. "Sorry, I haven't been keeping up with the recent issues of a.s.sa.s.sin's Weekly."

I heard another swallow from Leah's end, just before she spoke again. "My advice is to just stay out of his way, unless you're the one he's targeting. If that's the case, run and pray you're faster than him. The fact that he was hired to kill Elena shows that whoever hired him means business."

"I think it was Calisto," I said.

There was a brief moment of silence before Leah replied. "It makes sense I suppose. Calisto may have had second thoughts about Elena, especially if you were able to get close to her. Elena was a weak link, one that Calisto had to remove."

"But at the risk of a war with Yuen Xi Zhao?"

"Hey, I'm just spitting in the wind like you are," Leah replied. "When it comes to your sister, who really knows what's going on inside her head anymore."

For the past thirteen years, I thought I did. I was wrong, so very d.a.m.ned wrong.

"For now, my sources say that Yuen Xi has sat on the sidelines, allowing Elena to run his empire. He's off on some island retreat somewhere, discovering religion and making peace with his demons." Leah said. "But you can be b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.ned sure that once he hears his only daughter's been murdered, he'll stop at nothing to get revenge. We're looking at a war-one that may completely change the landscape of both the business world and the underground societies."

"Nathan will dispose of her body," I said. "Maybe that will buy us enough time to draw Calisto out and have her confess to Elena's murder. We can hand her over to Zhao after, to appease him."

"Zhao's going to keep her alive and torture her every single day, you know that right?" Leah asked.

"She deserves nothing less," I replied.

"I tend to agree," Leah said. "But once again, when the time comes, are you willing to hand Calisto over to Zhao?"

"How about we work on finding her first?" I said.

There was another pause from her end of the phone. "Sorry Shadow, but there won't be much of a 'we' anymore," Leah said. "My superiors are starting to suspect that something's up. I'm tired of trying to outwit my own people. Please tell me that your trip to Hong Kong thus far has not been a total waste of time."

"I have Elena's cellphone," I said. "I'm hoping I can trace the number."

I had thought about telling Leah that I had enlisted Cairo and Reiko to help me, but that would only lead to conversations about the past, which was filled with too many old wounds. There were reasons why most of us from the Academy no longer spoke to one another.

"So let me get this straight. You flew over to Hong Kong, gave the second most dangerous man in Asia his own empire, witnessed the a.s.sa.s.sination of the daughter of the first most dangerous man, and got your a.s.s kicked in the process. All of this, for Elena's cellphone."

"That seems about right," I said.

"I sure hope you get something out of that phone Shadow," Leah said. "Unless you can get a confession from Calisto and her involvement in Elena's murder, I guarantee there will be more dead bodies before the day's done-possibly of those that you care about."

I thought of Aria, and what her death would ultimately mean to me. I suddenly felt fire sear the back of my eyes as another blinding headache took hold of me.

f.u.c.k, when was this going to end?

"No one else is dying," I said.

"Are you sure?"

I wasn't.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Aria Dusk was always my favorite time of the day. The ambient orange light cast by the setting of the sun, like a candle burning through the last bit of daylight, was always a reminder that soon I would be home. Soon, I could rest.

But that was before the Midnight Society.

I had no home anymore.

I stood against the rail of the old antique steamboat-a wondrous breathtaking construct-as it traversed through Louisiana's waters. Us being the only ones on the boat, it was quiet and peaceful.

I always had a misconception of the swamps, believing they were filled with stained waters, unruly moss, and vicious insects. But standing in the steamboat, staring at the orange sky that was dusted with elegant purple clouds, I realized just how beautiful these swamps actually were. The bald cypress trees that emerged out of the waters reminded me of elderly wise men, standing watch with eternal patience, while the world slowly eroded. The leaves from the trees drifted downwards like wet strands of emerald hair, casting a morose look on their weathered visage.

There was a beautiful sadness to these trees.

"Careful you don't lean too far over the edge," Beau warned. "I swear the gators in these parts of Louisiana are possessed by demons themselves. They'll leap right out of the water and shear your arms off that picture perfect body of yours."

I shot Beau an incredulous look.

"Sounds like a tall tale," I said.

He smiled back at me with a backwards southern grin which told me he was up to no good. Beau looked handsome in the black, slim fit suit of his. I had to admit, his roughneck charm was endearing at times, though more often than not, it fell into the 'annoying' category.

Tonight, he was dressed to impress.

Lincoln on the other hand...

"Did you have to cut the sleeves off my s.h.i.+rt and my suit?" Lincoln asked. He looked absurd with his bare arms protruding from what once was a fine looking suit.

"Let's get it straight, that suit you're wearing is actually mine, and I thought a fellow like you, with ink-temporary by my guess-all over his arms, would want to display those magnificent pieces of artwork.

"I look like trailer trash," Lincoln stated. "The least you could have done was given me dress shoes too."

I looked down at his feet and couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his faded pair of sneakers.

"Had I had known you'd sabotage my formalwear, I would have went out and purchased something," Lincoln said.

"My formalwear you mean," Beau grinned. "And quit your complaining. You should be thankful that the extent of my revenge is removing the sleeves off the suit you're wearing. It could have been much worse. A bullet through the back of your skull is a perfect example."

Beau had a point. In terms of revenge, this had to be one of the more hilarious methods I've seen.

"Prepare for docking," I heard the s.h.i.+p captain announce as the old steamboat chugged along, heading steadily towards the wooden dock.

We were cras.h.i.+ng the wedding ridiculously early, but as per Isadora's instructions, I was to meet with her before the start of the wedding ceremony to sort out the final details of our deal.

I stared with baited breath as we docked onto dry land.

"Here we are," the captain announced, "Paradise right in the heart of Louisiana."

We had landed on an island, smacked dab in the middle of the swamp, right in the center of which stood a magnificent, white plantation house.

It was similar to those I'd seen in movies; a two story colonial inspired home with large white columns stemming from ground to roof. In between the columns were large bay windows that reflected the orange glow of the setting sun. Outside in the yard, workers were busy preparing for tonight's festivities, setting up tables and chairs and stringing lights alongside the large white tents where the dinner and dancing were to take place.

"Well isn't that something," Beau said as he marveled at all the work that was being put into the wedding.

An elderly man in old-style butler garb greeted us. "You must be the guests that Lady Isadora's expecting," he said.

"Lady Isadora?" Beau guffawed. "She's royalty all of a sudden?"

The servant frowned.

"Beau, shut up," Lincoln said, as he turned to the butler. "We're honored to be guests at her lovely home."

The butler eyed Lincoln's suit-more specifically his bare, tattooed arms-and wrinkled his nose.

"Yes...well do come along then," he said, gesturing towards the big white plantation house. "Ms. Isadora wanted to see you the second you arrived. It's best we not keep her waiting."

We walked up the purple carpet laid out on dirt path that led up to the house.

I stepped through the large doors of the estate and smiled. The inside of the home was exactly how I'd pictured it. The walls and ceiling were painted white from top to bottom in contrast to the dark brown hardwood floors. A brilliant crystal chandelier hung from the center of the foyer, accentuating the wealth of this lovely home.

Things were lively inside as well, as servants frantically ran back and forth, hands filled with flowers, food, drinks, and other necessities for a bride's perfect day.

The butler led us up a wide staircase and onto the second floor. We were greeted by a row of closed doors.

"The very far door on the right," the butler said.

The three of us began to walk towards it, but the butler was quick to hold out his hand, blocking our paths.

"Only her," he said.

"Can't I watch?" Lincoln asked.

The butler shook his head. "Experiencing the gift of Lady Isadora's magic is something that is sacred and private. Only Lucy..." he paused as he glanced at me with curiosity in his eyes, "...is granted this blessed experience."

"We can stand outside the door though? In case any sneaky s.h.i.+t happens?" Beau asked.

The butler sighed. "I a.s.sure you, no sneaky s.h.i.+t will happen. You are our guests, and will be treated as such.

"It's okay," I rea.s.sured them. "I'll be okay."

I wondered if I sounded convincing, especially since I was nervous as h.e.l.l. I walked slowly towards the last door on the right and stopped in front of it.

I took a deep breath and raised my fists, ready to knock. However just as my knuckles were about to make contact with the door, Isadora called me in.

"You may enter," she said.

Did she hear my footsteps from outside?

I braced myself for what was likely inside-a black cauldron perhaps? Maybe some decapitated monkey heads on sticks? Or snakes slithering around the bones of old sacrificial victims?

Inside, I was greeted with a normal looking bedroom-a king sized bed on a beautiful rosewood bedframe, elegant flowery drapes, a vanity mirror that went hand-in-hand with a milk-white makeup table, and a black leather chaise pushed up against the window.

I'd watched too many B-rated horror movies as a kid.

Isadora sat on the bed, wearing a stunning long black dress that flowed from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s all the way down to the floor. Even without make up on she had looked gorgeous but now, with a few touches, she was a G.o.ddess. Her beauty was enchanting.

"Oh wow," I said, surprised by her radiance. "I swear you're going to steal the bride's thunder."

Isadora smiled. "I hope not," she said. "Otherwise I'll never hear the end of it." She gestured towards the edge of the bed. "Close the door behind you, and then come and sit."

I did.

"Do I have anything to worry about?" I asked, bluntly.

"Have a little faith," Isadora said, "After all, this is what this experience is about: Faith."

She reached for a wine gla.s.s, filled with a clear liquid, by the bedside table. She handed it over to me.

"Drink," she instructed.

"What is it?"

"A potion."

I stared at the contents and wrinkled my nose. "You're drugging me?"

Thankfully, Isadora seemed to have a lot of patience with me tonight. "Do you know why I chose you from the others?"

"Because I'm the least annoying?" I speculated.

"True," Isadora said, "But that's not the reason why. Out of the three of you, the ghosts that haunt you are the strongest-both the ghosts of the living and the dead."

I was puzzled. "How can the living be ghosts?"