Page 9 of The Curse of Eternity (Descendants of Helsing #1)
Mask of Lies
Yeah, like I was going to fall for such an obvious trap, were my thoughts for the last eight days.
Now that I was surrounded by scattered pages of printed railway maps and pencils reduced to nubs from using my high school math compass, I was starting to reconsider. Apparently, my naivety knew no bounds.
It’d been easy to figure out that whichever train had passed through at close to two in the morning last Saturday hadn’t been on any of the public transit routes.
A quick look-see at the Alvarado Transportation Center confirmed that.
What they couldn’t answer was which train might have been on a set of unknown tracks in a vague, general vicinity of where I described when I couldn’t even tell them which direction the train might have been going.
Explaining that I’d been blindfolded at the time, acting like it was some dumb prank I’d agreed to, had only earned me the classic side-eye while the conductors clearly thought I was losing it.
Then there was the fact that any trains carrying cargo claimed by a private enterprise were not strictly public knowledge.
Something about ‘preventing terrorist attacks.’ Because I didn’t have a badge or laminated card to show off—and it’s not like I could charm them into divulging information like a vampire could—I was shit out of luck.
As it turned out, I was as useless at the research as I was when fighting the undead bastard.
Our brief conversation at the library replayed in my head, and I bit my lower lip.
His cocky attitude, certain of my impending failure, was at odds with the pleas he’d made for my cooperation back in his ‘house.’ It could have been the lower level of an apartment, for all I knew.
Frustrated, I crumpled up the papers detailing types of trains by the sounds they made.
I chucked the wad at my growing wastepaper basket.
Brow furrowed, I sucked on my teeth and glanced at the note by my sock-clad feet.
I still hadn’t consulted my family about this dilemma.
Mostly because I wanted to prove to that irksome bloodsucker that he shouldn’t underestimate me.
The least I could do was find his address before fessing up to my family…
Days of reconnaissance throughout the city left my eyes tired from driving and my brain in shambles with growing despair.
No matter where I went, which train tracks I followed, I couldn’t recognize a damn thing.
Even when I retraced the turns I thought the vampire had made when he drove me back to the warehouse, I’d only ended up on I-25 going south into nowhere.
Based on how long it took to drive me back, he couldn’t possibly live further out…
This city wasn’t even that freaking big, and I was still stumped.
I rubbed at my aching temples while glaring at the note.
‘Call me’ —what a cliché. Snorting to cover my annoyance, I snatched up my cell phone and dialed the damn number.
The worst that could happen was that it was a fake.
At least, that’s when I thought he wasn’t actually going to pick up.
“Hello?” An Eastern European accent, thick like he’d just been woken up, spoke out of my receiver. Seconds ticked by, my breath held, and then I closed my eyes.
“Hi,” I said, voice tight, and waited—but not for long.
“Ah, Maria.” His tone turned amused, and the way he said my name—like we were old friends or something—made me dig up the memory of our exchange in his car.
“Drake,” I replied, perfunctory, and he had the gall to chuckle.
“I am pleased you telephoned, though I assumed you would be unable to resist the mystery.” Rustling crackled over the receiver, like he was getting out of bed, and I glanced at my window.
Of course, it was the middle of the afternoon.
The sunlight might not kill them, but they’re a hell of a lot less conspicuous in the dark.
“Where are you?” I asked, straight to the point and hoping he’d divulge either out of boredom or over-confidence.
“Was your reading material insufficient?” Drake shot back, and I wrinkled my nose.
“Fine, you got me,” I admitted, flushing as the back of my neck warmed, and I stood to pace my bedroom.
“Think of it this way,” he said, and I frowned at his bemused timbre, “you must have developed extensive knowledge on a subject you would not have otherwise given its due time.”
“If trains bored me before then it’ll be too soon if I never read about another one,” I snapped, and mentally kicked myself.
Why the hell did he get a rise out of me so easily?
It was worse than with Andrew, who always treated me unfairly compared to his brother and sister.
With Drake… My pride took a hit every time I was forced to acknowledge he might be right. Even if he did laugh at my snark.
“Perhaps now you will reconsider my suggestion,” he said, and hesitated. “I may not tell you my residential address, but I can offer my whereabouts for this evening.”
“So you can lure me into a dark alley?” My eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t think so.”
“It is a well-lit, public space, I assure you.”
I inhaled deeply, glancing at my closed door, locked from the inside.
It’s not like I couldn’t verify the address on my phone, but if it’s around people then it’ll be a double-edged sword.
He might not be able to cart me off so easily, but I also couldn’t behead him if I got the chance.
Since I wasn’t any kind of government personnel that could trace phone calls, I had no other options to get to the bottom of this.
Unless I admitted to my family that I’d lied…
“Fine,” I said through an exhale, and my pacing stilled. “Where?”
“A pub in the city. Its signpost reads ‘Two Fools Tavern.’” He almost sounded relieved, or I was imagining the way his accented voice softened. “I will arrive at seven o’clock. As long as you are alone, I will meet with you.”
“Why are you doing this, anyway?” I asked, genuinely too confused to feel conflicted.
“Because,” he said, as serious as the first night we met, “I rather enjoy residing in this city. If I prove to you that I am not a threat, then I will not be forced to leave.” Melancholy laced his words, and I blinked unseeingly at my window.
“Okay,” I stammered. “Tonight, then.”
“I look forward to it.” His tone returned to its normal, unfortunately attractive cadence—like he didn’t have a care in the world—a moment before the call ended.
The phone beeped while I pulled it away, and then stared down at my bright screen until it faded to black.
What the hell had I just agreed to? Pulse beating fast, I ran a hand through my curly hair, and resumed my pacing.
Suddenly, it was like the room didn’t have enough air in it.
So I yanked on my boots, fastened my machete to my hip, and headed out.
One arm was through the sleeve of my gray jacket—a sad replacement for my lost denim one—when I stopped short in the doorway.
The lingering smell of smoke wafted up the hall, from where the stained-glass window at the end was cracked open.
Rolling my eyes, I walked down until I stood before Ethan’s closed door at the very end, nearly opposite Olivia’s.
While Olivia’s bedroom door had a flowery embroidered sign with her name on it, Ethan’s was plain except for the scratches across its front from when we practiced throwing knives as kids.
A deep sniff confirmed my suspicions, and I pounded on Ethan’s door.
The loud rock music playing inside cut off a moment before it opened.
“Yes?” His thick dirty blond hair stood on end, wet from a recent shower, and he pushed his square-framed glasses up his straight nose.
Crystal blue-gray eyes stared back, innocent enough, but I knew better.
My lips pursed when I leaned into his room, pointedly glancing at the smoking ashtray propped on his open window sill.
“You really should stop doing that, or at least take it outside,” I chided, and Ethan snorted. While he backed into his room, I hovered at the doorway.
“You sound like Liv,” he remarked, and I shrugged.
“Maybe you should kick the whole smoking thing altogether. You wouldn’t want to end up like me.” The comment was ridiculous in truth. It didn’t take cigarettes to get me into the harder stuff, since I’d never actually smoked—tobacco, anyway.
“Duly noted.” Nonchalant, Ethan lifted his smoking cigarette to his lips and took a drag. Staring me dead in the eye, he exhaled a cloud of smoke and said, “So what’s got you all riled up?”
My back straightened. “What?”
“That line between your eyebrows is going to permanently wrinkle if you don’t get over whatever’s bothering you.
” He rocked back to sit in his desk chair, poised before three monitors and a desktop computer thicker than my thigh—and I wasn’t skinny.
Stifling a frown, I rubbed at the spot above the small bump in my nose ridge.
“What do you care?” I asked, diminished, and Ethan shrugged, turning to face his many screens.
“I don’t. It’ll only make me look better by association in our family photos.”
“Fine.” I sighed, racking my brain for a way to make any of this shit translatable without fessing up. “I just agreed to see a guy I met at the library.” Technically, all true.
“He must be pretty boring if he hangs around the library.” Ethan pulled up a game on his computer, his gaze focused.
“He’s pretty damn interesting, actually,” I piped up, and then blinked. Why the hell was I defending him? No, I was arguing for my obsession with getting payback from the vampire. That was it.
“You gonna go on your date dressed like that?” Ethan glanced over his shoulder, his stare disapproving, and then returned his attention to his first-person-shooter game.
“What’s wrong with it?” I looked down at myself. A white T-shirt and denim jeans was classic ‘me.’