Maleficium (Devil's Playground Book 2) Read online

  “That’s what they do here, bud. If you don’t get up and move your ass, we could be next,” Mel answered none too gently.

  “Gimme a second.” He brushed across his mouth with the back of his hand, then wiped his glasses with a corner of his t-shirt before standing to face us. I could tell he was doing his best to remain composed.

  “We can go back to how we got in right? Maybe there’s a way to--.”

  “You saw what just happened,” I swiftly interrupted before he could get carried away. “Do you really think it would be that simple?”

  “Then where do we go? Tell me its far away from this place.”

  The undeniable fear radiating from within his eyes solidified his station. It would be on me to make sure he stayed alive. How did I get so lucky?

  “Back that way.” I motioned with my hand.

  His throat bobbed and he nodded. “I’ll follow you again.”

  That was for the best. We began walking in the direction he and I had initially come from. There was an unspoken directive between the three of us to keep an eye out for anything or anyone.

  It was a bit easier to breathe with Mel back with me, but nothing was remotely close to being okay. There were so many things to say and until we found Grace and Selena, I wasn’t sure how to bring any of it up. She wasn’t saying much either, which was highly unlike her.

  “How did you end up in that chair?” I asked after we’d walked for a minute.

  “I was taken there, but I woke up somewhere else. I had a blindfold on until I was put in the chains. I heard people whispering, Lana. I think this situation is bigger than we can even begin to fathom.”

  “After what I found, I think you’re right.”

  “What did you find?” Dion questioned from behind us.

  I shared a look with Mel and gnawed on my lower lip. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let a few things slip. Thinking about what I’d seen back inside the Abyss—all the death certificates and the pictures. I filled them in, remembering to mention the odd photo from the cabin.

  I added as many details as I could, still leaving out the fact our families were involved in all of this. I wasn’t worried about Dion hurting me but telling someone you were sort-of the reason their life had gone to shit probably wasn’t going to go over well.

  “The lady you mentioned, this Margo, she was with you in the other place?” he clarified.

  “Goetia, and yes.”

  “See, that’s not right.” He moved so that he was on the opposite side of me on the sidewalk. “You need a coroner to get a legitimate death certificate. There’s a legal process behind it.”

  “He’s right,” Mel said.

  “Then it either wasn’t real or...”

  “Someone counted her as dead before she died,” Dion finished.

  “Or they have someone in their pockets,” Mel alluded.

  Two of the three seemed like a reasonable explanation. I’d wondered the same things. When considering who the founding families were and their limitless connections, however the medical examiner and paperwork wouldn’t be an issue to get handled.

  “What about this Board of Infernal Syndicate? Any ideas on what that could be?” Mel inquired.

  He shrugged. “Sounds like some mafia secret society bullshit to me.”

  He was more on the money than he could begin to imagine with that one.

  “Do you know where Gracelyn and Selena are?” Mel asked me suddenly.

  “No. I was just about to say we should focus on finding them for now. That’s prerogative numero uno. There are maps here like back in Goetia. It told us to go to where you were.”

  “And riddles, apparently” she stated dryly.

  “Those too.”

  “Which way did you two come from?”

  “The left,” Dion replied.

  “Then we need to go right,” Mel asserted. She looped her arm through mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  It had never taken this long to find another map before. I didn’t know if this was because the Devil’s Playground was larger than Goetia or because the game masters had upped the stakes. Game masters being our demented ass parents and their deranged friends. It was better to call them that than family.

  Looking through the windows of all the buildings we were walking by it struck me again how much effort went into constructing this place. I hated to admit it, but I was impressed.

  Dion reached out and touched one of the panes of glass, shaking his head. “Why would someone do all of this? Do you know what kind of bread went into all these details?”

  “I don’t think the person responsible for this was worried about how much it cost.”

  Coming up on another intersection, the only way we could go was right. Straight was blocked off with large concrete dividers and Road Closed signs. Left didn’t exist. We rounded the corner and one of the first things we saw was another bus stop beside a bench. It was a few feet away, identical to the last one aside from one minor detail.

  “Is that a skeleton?” Dion asked.

  “Looks like it,” Mel quipped.

  I approached the sack of bones wondering if it was real. Thin wires were wound around its limbs and then looped through the holes on the bench’s backrest to ensure the skeletal frame remained upright.

  It was dressed in ragged clothes that were stained a muddied brown color I assumed was meant to be old blood. Wrapped around his or her neck was a white sign that covered the chest. On it another riddle to be deciphered written in streaks of red.

  Release what’s kept hidden inside.

  The choice is yours.

  Live or die?

  “Sorry ya’ll, I honestly got nothing for this one,” Dion confessed.

  Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary this time around. There was a slight chance I was becoming increasingly paranoid or delusional, but I believed all of this was meant to be personal. Specific to me and the girls. Maybe even Dion too and he didn’t know it yet.

  I reached out and touched the skeleton. There were chunks of rubbery-like flesh still on some of the bones.

  The body lacked a stench of decay and there weren’t any bugs swarming to feast or nest. That’s what made me think it wasn’t real.

  “Feels like rubber,” I noted, tracing over some of the flaps.

  Could something like this be preserved? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know that answer. I stepped away and joined Mel in front of the map with Dion.

  “There’s more names crossed off,” he commented.

  “Sarah was the girl tied up beside me. I heard someone mention her name. Who are all these other people, though?” Mel asked.

  “Well, we know one of them was the woman we saw back in the building. Morrigan is his girlfriend. I don’t know about the rest. I haven’t seen anyone else.”

  “But there’s other people in here going through the same thing we are?” she speculated.

  “I guess?”

  My reply came out as more of a question.

  There were other people here, yes, but I wasn’t sure it was necessarily because of us or in any way related. The Sarah chick being killed off so nonchalantly didn’t fit Mel’s theory. None of us had truly interacted with her. Focusing back on the map, I pointed out our next destination.

  “The place we need to go is super close. Look at the trail.”

  “Man, they’re really into this devil shit, huh?” Dion murmured.

  Mel turned and stared down the road. “According to this thing we’re a block or less away from there.”

  Staring in the same direction, I didn’t see anything that resembled what we should be looking for. I glanced from the map to the street and then back again.

  “We’re much closer than that,” Dion concluded, stepping out into the road. His eyes slightly narrowed, and he studied each of the opposite buildings carefully.

  “It’s over there.”

  I peered in the direction he was pointing. “How do you know that?”

  “Look
at those windows compared to the rest. We can see inside them. That one is purely reflecting the street.”

  Once more, I found myself appreciating his presence while still being suspicious of him. It took me a second longer than Mel to see what he was referring to. When I did, I sought out the entrance to the storefront he’d singled out and realized I couldn’t see it clearly from where I was standing.

  “We need to get closer.”

  Without waiting for either of them to reply I walked across the street and cautiously approached the building.

  When only my reflection was staring back at me in panes of shiny black glass, I subconsciously dampened my lips.

  “Is this the place?” Mel asked as she came up behind me.

  “Has to be.” I gestured to the double doors sitting back out of view.

  A small white plaque with Devil’s Inn scrawled across it was hanging above them.

  “This isn’t what I was expecting,” Mel said.

  “You had expectations?”

  “Not really, but the other signs were flashy and big. It’s like this one was purposely hidden.”

  “How is this an inn?” Dion questioned as he joined us.

  “Only one way to find out, right?”

  “I’ll go first,” Mel volunteered.

  I held my arm out and gently pushed back against her chest. “I’ll go first. You were just tied to a chair.”

  “So that means be a pussy and sacrifice my best friend?”

  I rolled my eyes and surged ahead before she could think to stop me. I didn’t like not being able to see inside this place. It gave two-way mirror vibes. If something—someone--was waiting on the other side, I would be the first to know. Grasping the solid door handle, I took a deep breath and pulled, triggering an overhead bell.

  Nothing dramatic happened.

  There was no masked killer waiting to take me out or ominous riddle from an overhead speaker. I entered the inn, holding the door so Mel and Dion could follow.

  The sweet, fragrant lemonade scent that filled my lungs reminded me of pine-sol. Golden sconces adorned burgundy damasked walls, going all the way down a long hall. They were each dimmed, but bountiful enough that the inside of the inn was well lit.

  The door audibly clinked as it locked behind us. At this point that was more expected than surprising.

  “This is real Bate’s Motel-ish,” Dion commented.

  “I think even that was more modern than this,” I retorted sarcastically.

  To the left of us was a check in counter. I tucked one side of my hair behind my ear and walked over to it. A notecard like the one from the cabin I’d woken up in was the first thing that captured my attention. I picked it up and read what was written out loud.

  “Welcome to the Devil’s Inn. Refreshments await you in room six-one-six. Take the key and proceed ahead.”

  “That number sounds familiar,” Mel replied.

  I thought so too. But where had we seen or heard it before?

  Six-one-six.

  I repeated the number in my head, taking a better look around. My eyes eventually landed on a silver key hanging by its lonesome on the back wall. I tossed down the notecard and retrieved it, turning it over in my hand.

  The symbol embossed on the cards was engraved into the handle—an eye in the center of a triangle.

  “Look at this,” Mel called.

  I pocketed the key and turned to see what she’d found.

  “That thing looks pretty old,” Dion pointed out.

  “Feels like it too. Who do you think all these people are?”

  “Were,” I corrected, watching her flip through the thick, yellowing pages of a ledger.

  “The names end here…with ours.”

  “What?” I circled the reception desk and came closer.

  Dion sighed heavily, rubbing the top of his head. “That’s some freaky shit.”

  “Inks fresh,” Mel disclosed, angling the page towards me. “So, we’re being watched. I guess I assumed that already but to know for sure…”

  “They hid their cameras pretty damn well, right?” I clipped, eyeing every corner of the front lobby. I wondered, were they watching us right now? Or did some other random person have their attention? With as many flat screens that I’d seen back in that ballroom, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were doing both.

  The question of why was still looming over my shoulder. Abuelo had mentioned this was an initiation. What the fuck were we being initiated into? Purgatory? I chose to keep my rambling inner thoughts to myself for now. There was no point in adding more unknown variables to this shitty equation.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Mel rubbing the back of her neck, almost directly in the center. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if Dion hadn’t done almost the same thing in the woods. My own tingled as if to remind me I had too, right after waking up in the cabin.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Her attention shifted to me, fleeting confusion in her silver eyes.

  “Not really. It feels like something pinched me.”

  “Turn around.” I took the book from her and sat it down on the clerk’s desk.

  She did as I asked without question. I stepped up behind her and gently draped her hair over one shoulder. There was a bit of redness standing out against her porcelain skin, but nothing else.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “It could be from whatever they used to knock us out,” Dion suggested.

  “I guess.” I took a step back, feeling as if we were missing something.

  “Or--.” he started then paused.

  “Or what?” Mel asked, sweeping her hair behind her back again as she turned to face him.

  He gave the slightest shake of his head, making a point to glance at the ceiling before he replied.

  “Or they gave us drugs.”

  “Hopefully, some good stuff then,” Mel responded dryly, catching on right away. He didn’t want to say too much knowing we were being watched.

  “Let’s go see what’s in this room.”

  “I’ll go first this time,” Dion implored, making sure he got to the hall before we could.

  “I’m beginning to feel like this is a competition. Which one of us will volunteer to die first?” Mel joked.

  “None of us are going to die. Think positive thoughts, girl.”

  “Oh, you’re still on about that, huh?” she glanced back at me and flashed a somber smile.

  We followed Dion down the narrow hall, reading the door numbers as we went. None of them had peepholes. I thought that was weird considering this was supposed to be an inn. If they stayed shut, though, I didn’t really care.

  “Room six-one-six?” Dion asked.

  “Yeah. Here’s the key.” I dug in my pocket and handed it to Mel so that she could pass it off to him.

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttered.

  I placed my hands on Mel’s shoulders as he inserted the key into the lock. If worst came to worst, I could fling her ass out of the way. The lock turned over and Dion reached for the knob. It twisted without resistance, the door opening with a small groan.

  “There’s a bathroom to the right. I can’t see inside it, “he warned us, slowly entering the room.

  We stepped in behind him, easing past the open doorway. When no one jumped out and I saw things didn’t look to be too out of place, I relaxed and let myself breathe a little. Come to think of it, nothing that bad had really occurred. There was the window woman, being choked out, and witnessing a girl take a pickax to the skull. Considering what I’d already seen and where we were, that wasn’t hardly anything at all.

  “This ain’t nothing but a regular ass motel room,” Dion openly observed, a bit of tension visibly leaving his shoulders. “Is that water safe?”

  I stepped around him and looked over the small welcome package that had been left for us. Recently, based on how solid the ice in the bucket holding bottles of water was.

  “If it’s sealed, it shou
ld be.”

  “Should?”

  “There’s no way of knowing for sure until you take a sip.”

  “It might quench your thirst, might make you drop dead and foam at the mouth,” Mel explained, clearly recalling the Blight House incident.

  “Is it the same for the tap? Cuz I think I’ll wait to rinse my mouth then.”

  Mel screwed up her nose, giving him a disgusted look. “After what just came out of there? I think you should take your chances.”

  “Noted,” he mumbled, bravely grabbing one of the bottles of water. “I’ll be in the bathroom.”

  Leaving him to it, I went over to the most obvious place one would go in a room like this, the desk.

  “What have they left us this time?” Mel asked from beside me.

  “More junk.” I sifted through a stack of white papers labeled as invoices, allowing her to see them too.

  “That’s a shit ton of money.”

  “It’s all being marked as paid to Moloch Enterprise, subsidiary of the Infernal Syndicate,” I read aloud.

  “Since when is the Moloch company a subsidiary?”

  I shrugged, continuing to sift through the invoices. A familiar name caught my eye, and I flipped back three.

  “Aaron Woolfe. Don’t we know this guy?”

  “Uh, we know of him. He owns resorts and shit, ironically.”

  “He must be doing good business then. Look how much he put invested just last year.”

  Her brows lifted as she shook her head. “What could they possibly be doing with all these shitbags’ cash?”

  “…building and running two big ass cities?” I replied slowly, phrasing the statement as a question.

  It was rhetorical.

  My Abuelos’s reference to generous contributions had an explanation now, somewhat. There was still too much I didn’t understand for me to say without a sliver of doubt, that this is what he’d been talking about. Even if that were the case, again, one thing remained unclear. What was the point?

  “Lana?” Mel nudged me with her elbow.

  I glanced over to see what she wanted to show me. It was another ledger of some kind. I read it from top to bottom, crushing the invoices within my hands.

  “Both Gracelyn and Selena are listed here, but they spelled her name wrong.” She tapped beneath where Selene was written on one of the admission lines.