“I’m not sure what you’ve seen before. I’m guessing you’ve seen some crazy stuff since we all have, but this . . .” He trailed off as he stopped in front of a gray door with a small window. “Yeah, this is something else.”
Unsure of what I was preparing myself for, I walked through the door he opened and made it a couple of steps before I came to a complete stop. Horror rose within me, robbing me of the ability to speak or even think.
The house lights were on, glittering like sharp diamonds. I spotted David standing next to Miles and Henry. Dylan and Jackie were standing near what used to be the shadowy corners. And then there were detectives staring up, and I had to wonder if they had ever seen anything like this before.
People hung from the ceiling.
Humans.
Their bodies were swaying like branches in the wind.
People were scattered across the floor.
Their bodies left behind like discarded trash.
Some were nude, and some were fully clothed. They looked like staff. The men were in black slacks, and some were still wearing white uniform shirts. Others were bare-chested. Some women wore slinky black dresses. The closest body to me belonged to a female. She had one high heel on her foot. For some reason I looked down to see if I could find the other shoe, and I don’t even know why that was important, but I looked and then I saw her.
It was the waitress I’d seen the night Ren and I had come to Flux. She’d been serving Marlon and the ancient whose blood had opened the gates. I’d suspected she’d known what they were, based on her wariness around them, and how she seemed to know that she was about to be fed on when the ancient had grabbed her. Now she was dead and cold on the floor, staring up at the dazzling lights.
They were all dead—dozens and dozens of humans. Some hanging from the ceiling. Others splayed across the floor and in between tables and chairs.
And all of them had been fed on until there was nothing left but pale skin and tainted, darkened veins.
~
It was late Tuesday night when I got home. Tink was asleep, or at least that’s what I guessed he was doing, because his door was closed and no sound was coming from inside. But I was too disturbed to sleep.
I sat on the corner of the couch, wrapped up in the soft chenille blanket. The TV was on, the volume turned down low, and I had no idea what was being said or what was happening.
I couldn’t un-see what I’d seen in that club.
As long as I lived, I would never forget the sight. Glenn had been right. I’d seen a lot of crazy and messed up stuff, but nothing ever like this. So much death—senseless death.
Even David had been unsettled, and it wasn’t because he couldn’t hide that many deaths from the public. The detectives were going to spin it as some kind of cult—mass suicide or something—but people weren’t stupid. Some were going to be seriously suspicious, but they’d never believe the truth anyway.
I’d overheard Kyle say he’d seen something like this before once in Dallas, where the fae had turned on the humans that had served them for one reason or another, feeding on all of them until they were gone. That too had been pawned off as a cult offing themselves because a comet hadn’t shown up or something.
I didn’t understand why this had happened. The fae didn’t need humans for anything other than food, but having their assistance in some areas had to be helpful. Why would they kill them, and why now? There were too many questions.
Before I left, I’d closed the waitress’ eyes, and on the way back to my place I’d called Ren. There was still no answer, but I didn’t leave a message for him this time.
Ren’s face blurred with the waitresses’ and back again, and instead of seeing her, I saw him, lying on his back, his beautiful green eyes dull and unfocused, all life gone from them. Once that image was fully implanted in my brain, I couldn’t get it out.
Hours passed, and I might’ve dozed off, but it felt like I blinked and then it was morning and Tink was sitting on the arm of the couch, a few inches from my face. And not tiny Tink. Oh no. This was full grown Tink . . . in pants.
A hell of a way to wake up.
I jerked into a sitting position and drew back, staring up at Tink dumbly. “You’re . . . people-sized.”
He cocked his head to the side. “There’s something about using the word ‘people-sized’ that just sounds offensive.”
My gaze dropped. “And you’re wearing jeans.”
“You like them?” He looked down at himself and nodded. “Got them off of Amazon. They were something called True Religion.”
“You . . . you bought True Religion jeans?”
Tink batted his blue eyes at me. “They were like two hundred dollars, so I figured they were good jeans.”
I stared at them and plopped down on the other end of the couch, planting my face into the pillow.
“I thought you’d be happy about the fact my junk isn’t hanging out,” he said.
I closed my eyes.
“And here I thought I was doing a good thing.” Tink paused. “I guess I could go naked—”