Pool of Crimson

chapter 12



I’d gone back and forth from work to my car for the last three days. At 3:45 a.m., I was three hours away from starting another new day, nowhere near sleep and driving through downtown, trying to keep my eyes open. The caffeine had worn off hours ago.

The city was dead. The only lights at four in the morning were the street lamps along High Street and the epilepsy-inducing LED lights flashing advertisements and news headlines from the square at Broad Street and High.

Candace Capeloni charged through downtown like someone was chasing her, revving her engine and squealing tires at every light.

I followed a block back and a street over on Fourth Street heading North. Her engine revved like a lion’s roar in the silent city as it bounced off the buildings and filled the empty space of downtown. I crossed over a block, closing that distance as I stopped at a red light. The Charger crossed in front of me. I made the right on to High Street and followed for another block and a half until she made a left onto Vine, off the main drag.

I circled the block and waited for the lights to come out on the other side. When they didn’t appear and I didn’t hear the roar of her engines, I parked the car and took off toward the North Market on foot.

The air was frigid as the crisp early morning breeze funneled through the dark alley behind the Hampton Inn. It was like walking through a wind tunnel. The glare of headlights reflected off the tinted windows of the hotel up ahead. I made my way toward the end of the alley in an easy, quick jog.

The North Market sign stood tall above the two-story building. The glare of light from the sign cast its blood red shadow over the empty parking lot. The parking lot in front of the building and the spaces along the alley were empty with the exception of a familiar white Charger and a dark-colored town car. The two vehicles sat quietly kitty-corner across several spaces.

I had to get closer.

I crossed the street, careful to remain in the shadows, and headed toward the exposed fire escape on the opposite building. I had to leave the shadows and inch closer to the two cars, along the back of the buildings facing High Street. I was too exposed.

I grabbed the hundred-year-old iron of the fire escape and started climbing as quietly as I could. The rust from the iron flaked under my hands as I rose but if I could get to the top, I would be out of scent range and out of sight. As I continued upward, approaching the roof, the soft click of a car door opening filled the silence. My muscles and lungs burned as I pushed myself harder in the cold night air. Just a few more rungs and I would be clear. I bit down on my bottom lip and forced myself to continue. Four more rungs. Three more rungs. Two.

I vaulted myself over the crest of the roof as a second door opened below.

I slid down the three-foot wall surrounding the top of the roof, then pressed my back against the brick surface next to the fire escape ladder. My lungs burned from the four-story climb. I sat for a moment, trying to catch my breath. I had to even out my breathing so that I wasn’t panting in the silent morning.

“There’s been a change of plans,” a familiar male voice rang out through the darkness.

I turned slowly and lifted my head up over the wall. The grime of the tar and gravel roof clung to me as I moved, and I fought not to move too much. The grime seeped into my clothing, but I didn’t care. I finally had a chance for a lead, a real lead. I peered down to the street below.

The Marlboro Man stood across from Candace Capeloni.

“What do you mean, there’s been a change of plans?” Candace snapped brusquely. The push of the Marlboro Man’s power filled the area and licked along my skin like a cold shot of winter. I sat four stories up and still felt when he bristled against her rudeness. It was faint, but I still felt it.

“I paid you to kill that witch for me, and you failed. Consider the payment a gift,” the Marlboro Man said with a warning that echoed in every word. He stood ramrod straight with his chest out and his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He seemed uncomfortable, as if she was beneath him.

“That’s not going to work for me,” she growled at him. She rolled her shoulders forward and shifted to the balls of her feet.

“I don’t care what works for you. We are too close to the New Moon to risk any interference. Your inability to finish a job has brought attention to us,” he hissed at her. He paused for a moment before he continued. His voice was soft, almost wistful as he spoke. “I’ve discovered that The Blushing Death can be useful to me in the future, and I don’t want her harmed.”

“She challenged me,” Candace bit back, chomping the air as if her canines were showing.

“What did you expect?” he cooed. “She’s an alpha female. She’d have to be, wouldn’t she? Poor Candace,” he chided her. “Do you think she can beat you?” he asked, having just a bit too much fun taunting her. “If it makes you feel any better,” he added nonchalantly, “I think she can beat you, too.”

Candace roared at him and stomped her foot like a child throwing a fit. The Marlboro Man’s laughter echoed between the buildings as she continued her tirade. She definitely didn’t like being told ‘no’.

“Enough. Do not touch her,” he ordered.

“Who’s going to stop me?”

“My darling Candace, would you really like your Gaoh to find out you’ve been conspiring with me to kill him?” The Marlboro Man folded his arms over his defined chest and waited for her answer.

“Your Gaoh can’t touch me. He wouldn’t dare. You, my dear, he can torture into submission or just kill you,” The Marlboro Man said with satisfaction. “He has that right.”

“You wouldn’t,” Candace replied, a quiver in her voice. “You need me too much.”

“You’re becoming too costly, my dear. Don’t push me.”

The sound of his voice and the confidence in it gave me chills as his words sunk in.

Candace took a step back toward her car but didn’t say another word.

“Remember what I said, no harm comes to the Blushing Death,” he ordered. She nodded obediently, her gaze downcast.

He turned, then opened his car door. “Good Evening,” he said with forced cordiality before getting into his car.

Candace watched, motionless, from her spot by the Charger as he drove away. His headlights disappeared around the corner, and she remained frozen where she stood. Balling her fists up at her sides, she released a rage filled roar. Her primal anger echoed around the empty square. She turned quickly, faster than my eyes could follow and drove her fist through the back window of her car, then the driver’s side window. She roared one last time before her blood-covered hand fell to her side.

“God damn it,” she yelled into the early morning where only I could hear her. “GOD F*ckING DAMN IT!” She stood frozen for a few long minutes before she yanked open the driver’s side door, brushed the broken glass off her seat, and got in. She fired up her engine, revving it hard as she hit the gas. The tires squealed and the gears ground as she raced down the empty street.

I sat back down on the roof and released the breath I’d been holding. I didn’t like the idea that the Marlboro Man wanted me alive. At least, when he wanted me dead, I knew where I stood. Now, I was stuck in some limbo waiting to see what he wanted to do with me. I liked the other way better.