“Hey, lovely.”
My grip tightened on the device, threatening to snap it between my fingers. Panic arrested every instinct within me as I spun in every direction.
His breathing was unmistakably labored as he rasped, “You can relax. I’m not there.”
That much I did know. I couldn’t sense him, but that didn’t mean someone else hadn’t been sent in his stead.
“Sorry for not being there to see you off, but I’m a bit under the weather.” Blaine tried to laugh. Instead, a ragged cough greeted me from the other end.
For the most part, the entire platform was visible. Nobody else was there. But even if I managed to get on the train without a problem, who’s to say there wouldn’t be a band of thugs waiting to snatch me up at the next stop?
“You won’t be followed. I can promise you that much.”
My whole spine stiffened. Could he really read my thoughts? How else had he known where I’d be?
“But you can’t run forever.” Any attempt to sound lighthearted was gone. “The time will come when we’ll need to consummate our bond. And I will come to collect you.”
Without having to look, I knew I’d ignited at least three runes, because light was exploding from my sleeve and my whole arm vibrated from the surge of restrained power. I wanted him here. I wanted him standing in front of me so I could bury my fist into his skull. I wanted to rip his heart clean from his chest. I wanted to kill him.
Warmth spread over me, and I furiously whipped around. The fear uncoiled at the sight of razor-cut brown hair appearing over the top of the payphone dock. It was Reese, jogging towards the platform with a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder as gears shrieked from down the tracks. The train was pulling into the station.
“I know you hate me,” Blaine murmured. “But you will change your mind, someday.”
“That’s not today,” was all I said, placing the phone back on the hook.
Epilogue
The onslaught of rain made it virtually impossible for Maddox to see anything as the wipers zipped across the windshield. Showers hadn’t been shown on the forecast, but this sudden downpour came as no surprise. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And the weather always had a strange way of reflecting it. The tires kicked up rock fragments as he swung his Escalade into the gravel parking lot. Cutting the engine, he hiked up the neckline of his frock coat and raced out into the storm up to the front entrance of the establishment.
“Basin Street Blues” played in the distance as the smell of beer battered onion rings and char-broiled burgers greeted him upon entering. The 1920’s throwback speakeasy held some fond memories that very few nowadays remembered. Unfortunately, the bar had recently taken up new ownership, making the clientele almost entirely of the demonic variety. The young man didn’t mind his fellow workmates, but he still preferred to never mix business with pleasure.
“Welcome to Nucky’s,” began the hostess before surrendering her gaze to the man hustling down the main hall towards her. “Oh, it’s you.” She scoffed, setting down the menus she had preemptively grabbed.
The young man brushed his sopping ashy locks from his eyes and shook out the rainwater clinging to his leather coat, making a deliberate mess on the floor. He hated having to deal with succubi like Eva. They were always holier-than-thou, like they were Satan’s gift to the world.
“I need to see him,” the young man shouted over the music and loud clamor of the club.
“I’m sorry, but he’s in the middle of a game right now,” she replied with fake pleasantness, casting him a nauseating smile. “He’s not to be disturbed.”
“Trust me, he’ll want to hear what I have to say,” the man remarked impatiently.
“Well, why don’t you go join the rest of the mutts over there, and I’ll let you know when your number comes up.” She cocked her head over towards the bar where he immediately recognized at least a handful of his colleagues who were clearly already waiting to have an audience with the boss.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I haven’t got time for this.” He plowed past her and pushed his way through the mass of people occupying the dance floor.
“Maddox!” The hostess squealed, racing clumsily after him in her towering heels. “You can’t go back there!”
“Read ’em and weep, gents,” declared the Englishman, laying down a straight flush onto the table of the private gaming room. Everyone moaned, tossing their cards back into the pile. The wood paneled space was engulfed in a calm haze of smoke as all the men took long drags on their cigars and cigarettes. As the entryway door yanked open though, the smoke swirled restlessly above the gaming table as the young man crashed to a halt upon arrival. His throat bobbed at the sight of his boss positioned at the other side of the room. Everyone fell quiet as they observed the lad.