Page 9 of Blood Claims
Her address.
The net was being pulled tighter around her until we could finally reel her in. Of course, she only confirmed what she’d already told us when waking to find ourselves prisoner to her foolish actions. And despite Victor’s attempts at trying to prove our combined fate with the use of our own witch, she still held herself back. Still made the wrong decision by trusting another.
As for us, the Kings of this dark world we ruled, we knew the danger lying in wait for her. Because she was being used and any enemy against us would know just how valuable she was to us. Therefore, they wouldn’t think twice about using her as leverage or worse…
Revenge.
Hence why we wasted no time in getting to her apartment, one we hoped we would still find her at. However, what we found instead was her door being opened by a confused goth girl who clearly hadn’t been expecting company.
“Er… hey, Nessa’s not here at the moment, but I can tell her you stopped by,” the girl named Stacey said in a questioning tone that was easy to read as being uneasy. And she was right to be, as this most definitely wasn’t a social call. Her baggy black and white plaid PJ trousers hung low on her hips, whilst her tight black crop top had the words, ‘Witches don’t do Dishes’ written in white lettering. A pair of demonic stuffed ghost slippers completed the casual goth look.
Now had this been an average day at the office, I would have had her throat in my hand scaring the information I wanted out of her. But considering this girl meant something to our Fated, then I knew we would need the talents of our second, Andras. He would get the information we needed out of her.
Which was why my brother nodded to Andras, who was behind us, and said,
“You know what we need, make it quick.”
The order prompted Andras to step forward, making the girl’s eyes widen in a comical way. Then she pushed her big round glasses back up her nose at the same time her mouth dropped a little. But it wasn’t her response to him that had me narrowing my eyes in question. Not when this was only to be expected. No, it was actually Andras’s reaction to her that surprised us both. As well, let’s just say that our second in command wasn’t exactly known for his mercy, nor his gentle coaxing. Yet one look at the slim Goth girl and his whole demeaner suddenly changed.
“I erm… I don’t think you… you should be here,” she stammered as she took quick steps back, her slippers making hurried little swishing sounds on the floor. But instead of just advancing and pulling his knife, he took it slow as he approached, holding his hands out to the side in a non-threatening way. Something that made my brother and I look at each other, silently questioning why. Fuck, but I didn’t think Andras knew any other way to extract information out of someone… woman or not.
So, the question now was what was it about this mortal that caused this reaction? Could it be the same reason that had my brother and I also acting so out of character ourselves? And fuck me, but if it was, then shit just got even more complicated.
“Easy now, darlin’, no one is going to hurt you.”
Victor frowned and mouthed ‘what the fuck?’ at me before then stepping inside the apartment behind Andras. His big body commandeered the small space, that was both quaint and quirky in equal measures.
A small colorful kitchen was off to the left, whilst the only living space was to the right. A narrow table was placed against one of the windows that was only big enough for two. Giving me cause to imagine the friends sharing a meal whilst watching the busy street below.
The same went for the couch, one that looked as if it had seen many hours of use as the girls no doubt watched the TV attached to the wall opposite. As for the rest, a single glance ahead showed three more doors, and it wasn’t hard to guess what was beyond them. However, what did surprise me was the colorful theme of the place, especially knowing who the apartment belonged to and her particular choice of style. One that Andras seemed particular fond of right now, given the way he was eyeing her up and down like she was candy.
“Wh…what do you want?!” Stacey asked, her panic growing as we closed the door behind us, locking her in.
“Your friend, Vanessa, we just want to know where she is, that’s all,” Andras said, his voice taking on a softer, sweeter tone neither of us had ever heard before. But at six foot four of pure muscle, a tattooed shaved head, and piercing light-grey eyes, I wondered if it would have any effect on her. Or were her eyes drawn to the scar across his neck… before questioning how different her day would have gone had the enemy actually managed to slice his blade clean through?
“Who… who are you? Are you like… like cops or something?” she asked, making my brother scoff as Andras told her,
“No, sweetheart, we ain’t cops.”
She started shaking her head, causing one of her pigtails to droop slightly off to one side.
“I don’t know where she is but you’re wasting your time even if I did. I would never tell you,” she replied, and had to give it to the girl, she was loyal alright. Facing the three of us would have made braver men squeal… friend or not. It was amazing what people would do to save their own skins but not our little Goth girl here. Or should I say,Andras’s little goth girl.
Speaking of which, he released a sigh of frustration, as it was clear he wasn’t about to relish this next part like he usually did.
“Shame that, as it would have made this next part so much easier,” he told her, making her eyes grow wide.
With a quick glance at my brother and I, she suddenly turned and made a run for it to the bathroom. At this, Andras looked back at us both and after a nod from my brother, he sighed again before heading in her direction.
“Come on out, darlin’, there is no escaping this,” he warned after first knocking on the door, whereas before he would have simply kicked it in.
“You better leave! I am calling the cops, they are on their way!”
We scanned the small apartment and quickly found her cell phone on a checkered black and white painted coffee table. I shook my head at Andras, telling him she was bluffing.
“Hard to do that without a phone, Angele Mou,” he said, calling her his angel in Greek and giving us both cause to grant each other another look of concern.
“Erm… that one was Vanessa’s, mine is in my pocket!” she shouted back, making me smirk when I took note of the phone cover. So, I walked over and retrieved it, chuckling as I showed my brother… who read it aloud.
