*****
My steps are triple time to the throbbing rave song, I cut through the smoky laser show on a one track mind. I head straight to the back of Allure. The suite room curtains whirl in a wave as I pass under the low stoop of the second floor balcony. The stone columns whip past as I leave the safety of curious eyes and witnesses.
I spot the gaudy lounge room and it's precarious seclusion, it seems to be vacant. That can't be, they *must* be here.
I peer in the room; Empty.
The icy touch of defeat has me rigid and locked in place. I have exhausted every alternative.
'There has to be another way.' My mind repeats in a psychotic mantra wheel. But what else is there? I have about as much of a chance finding Ashlen as I will blind searching for the twins.
"You're back, handsome."
That angelic yet mildly husky utterance would normally have me walking in the opposite direction. This time it's absolute music to my ears.
I turn to face the short haired twin, recalling the names though unsure which is which.
The other whispers in my ear as fingers spiderwalk up my back, "Tilda and I saw you coming… Vaguely seventeen hours ago."
These two could easily get the jump on me if it suited their whims. Lucky for me, inflicting pain doesn't appear to be on the agenda and their loyalties to the Thorn are rumored to be loose. If either of them have a slightly different view on the matter this could be disastrous, but I already knew the risks before coming here.
The short haired 'Tilda' looks me up and down unapologetically with her black owl eyes, "The ladies must love that jacket, all one hundred eighty-nine teeth accounted for."
"I know I do," the other twin coos, her hand drifts up my thigh, dangerously close to coping a feel before joining her sister soundlessly.
"What's this? Appears someone liked it a little too much," Matilda teases the tears along the damaged leather.
"And these four slices look rather fresh," says the twin with softer enunciation around her consonants. They look at each other conspiratorially, like chittering raccoons at dusk.
"What kind of mischief have you evolved yourself in?"
The unanswered question encourages the pair to giggle like asylum patients on too much sedative.
I work in my mind how best to adjure their assistance. They answer in harmony before I can utter the first word.
"We already know why you're here."
Then she must be alive, I'm filled with renewed hope.
"And? Will you give me the location then?"
They glance at each other again with devilish grins.
"We'd never refuse you, Sam, but," Delores half elaborates and her sister seamlessly picks up the sentences where it was left off, "We want something in return."
"Done."
They let a bout of laughter ring, the diverted sound collides into the pounding bass. They're hooting is followed by enthusiastic chatter.
"I love a man who knows what he wants!"
"I wish a boy would seek me with such feverance."
Matilda swishes her straight colorless hair as she inquires, "Do you know what we desire in return?"
It's probably a trade for information or a future calling card. I stare at them and wait for their price, I don't want to give them any ideas.
"Just your hand," they reveal in unison, each baring a palm to me.
I examine their hands thoughtfully. I'm about to examine their faces as Matilda's arms thrust out, flat cobra palms slamming into my chest with a thud. Nary a thought crosses my stunned concious as I fall backwards, landing perfectly in a seat that I'm positive was not there a second before.
I tense, jaw clenched and completely still. I follow the sister's causal saunter forward. The other flanks from behind, leaning in. Fingers spread as the dip over my shoulders. The hands bow upward, studying my chest like experienced braille fingers, rounding the base of my throat in an embrace of foreboding sensuality.
I remain frozen as Delores bends forward, pressing her face into the crook of my neck to deeply inhale.
Matilda arcs forward placing her hands on my knees, face to face. I glimpse her primitive nature, something so removed from any natural lifetime. She's truly a primordial being and any inkling of her short mortality died off long ago. She bids for sudden movements like a creature of remorseless instinct. Her mouth and brows arch with mischief.
"Oh and try not to resist," she adds in casually, easing back into her human facade. The beast recedes within the depth of her large pupils.
"We want to explore unhindered by your mental walls," I barely notice Delore's swift disappearance from my shoulders. One hand is running through my hair as she struts in a circle to my side view. She pulls the strands between her fingers, reluctantly releasing the ends, tapping her temple with one sharp nail all the while.
I watch them carefully, considering my reservations about them digging around in my future. I suppose the cost could be much higher. As if I can refuse and they know it.
Doesn't matter, and all things considered this is a minimal invasion. I know I essentially agreed to any terms but if they desired to swap blood, connect by blood… Well, fortunately those aren't their terms.
They back off, both side by side in my wake, leering down with dispassionate expectancy. I empty my lungs in a long exhale and hold my hands out to them.
Their irises blaze in an inferno of radiant color, purple and red blending with the motif of Allure. The vibrancy of a match striking in black catacombs. White teeth glitter as they take my hands in theirs.
"So tense."
"Relax. Cease your attempt to block us out."
I grunt in disapproval but try to ease down my natural guard with my shoulders. Not only did that little power play help me feel *really* secure, putting it down at all feels wrong.
"He's an infiltrator, Tilda. His defenses are good, vocal acknowledgement may help," Delores astutely detects, "Repeat after me, Sam. 'I allow you insight into my fate'."
This is ridiculous. I hate giving anyone free access, but what other options do I have?
I grumble, "I allow you insight into my fate."
They both chuckle at my displeasure, then their faces stretch as if being hit by enlightenment.
"Oh, that looks messy," Delores comments.
Matilda just shakes her head.
I wait, ignoring the urge to block them. I can sense an energy, though this mental prodding isn't nearly as intrusive as other psychic abilities. It's actually less in my mind, more evenly distributed throughout as if it's skimming just above my skin. Still, I don't like it.
"Would you like me to convey what I see?" Delores offers, "It could prepare you for what's to come. Perhaps even change it."
"No," I say quickly, "Only the essentials for getting her out in one piece."
Her expression fills with shock and almost offense, "I'm offering great knowledge. Why discard the keys to correcting mistakes before they are set in stone?"
"I don't want to know what you see, keep it amongst yourselves."
I make my own future. I don't need to be told what I will or won't do by anyone other than myself. I must stay in the present, focused, not obsess about the past and the future as I so often do. It would only serve as a distraction.
Delores opens her mouth to debate but Matilda puts up a hand, "Respect his wishes, Dotty. If he does not want to know, he does not have to know."
Delores eyes me with silent uncertainty as Matilda faintly smirks, "You are so very interesting, Sam. Most desire clarity. Do you thrive on the unknown? Are you an eater of chaos?"
I stare down Matilda, her calculating laser pointer eyes as inhuman as a Terminator's. Her closed lipped grin quirks a touch.
They remove their hands at once, a smooth motion that's precision is of robotic grace.
Matilda examines me unblinking while her sister studies her tight lipped.
"I'd bet my chips they'll use the abandoned caves. That's where the extra naughty ones go. I imagine she's holed up somewhere in the Surilien mines."
Now we're getting somewhere. I've heard of the Surilien ghost town. If it's the one I'm thinking I've got a few hours drive from the coast. I need details to narrow my search.
It's strange how they know what I want without prompting questions. Wouldn't telling me in this manner alter the butterfly effect?
I decide to leave the train of thought alone. I can appreciate the fact I wasn't turned by a Divination vampire. It's not hard to see why everyone perceives this bloodline as crazy, I'm going insane just thinking about it.
"Yes, we had to make an example of some delinquents in those mines," Delores sounds wistful as she remenises, "Thorn are so predictable, rarely straying from convention. You'd think they'd change a few things after a century or so. How boring."
"Ah yes, stale! So old fashioned. I'll bet that master key is used to this day."
"Master key?" I prod, that sounds useful.
"Oh," Matilda coyly pushes her hair behind one ear, "You didn't hear this from me, but most Thorn locks are accessible with the copy of a single key. It makes things simpler though not exactly secure. To its credit, the lock is complex."
"I think that's part of the game though, Tilda. A key falling into the wrong hands? The punishment or reward of it."
I cut to the point, "Do you have this key?"
Matilda's eyes flash, seeing I have the gall to ask for it.
"My, My. You really are a mad dog," she chuckles low, "No, ours was customarily confiscated seeing as we are… Inactive."
"Where will she be in the Surilien mines," my question is more of a demand, not wanting to veer off track.
"Drive north until the main road becomes dirt. An old water tower has been fitted for viewing these events, that is your landmark of reference. The vegetation is still recovering from past excavation, so expect to cross a grand weedy field. The small execution arena is dead center of the slope."
Matilda's face melts into something equally sadistic as it is silly as she comments, "I miss the water tower. It's like a balcony suite at the opera house!"
Delores touches my arm, imploring for my attention. Her violet irises shine with raw warning, "Be cautious, they love to speculate the death of notorious offenders. They will drag her to the stake an hour before dawn."
I don't think Ashlen has done anything to warrant a viewing. Her maker, on the other hand, is definitely a special case. Damn that Reaper, damn her to hell!
"Or they'll abandon her in the pit," Matilda chimes, examining her nailbeds nonchalantly, "It's really up in the air."
"And where is that?"
"I see the execution yard being your best bet," Delores seems to hint, "How long has she been missing."
Did I waste too much time aimlessly searching for clues and questioning the wrong people? My stomach seems to crumple in on itself, "Over forty-eight hours. You don't think she's…"
She shakes her head, immediately putting me at ease, "They're quite traditional. Blood before execution, no sooner than the third sunrise."
The third sunrise is in a few hours.
"What a lucky little ducky you are," Matilda chuckles.
"I need to get going. You two have been extremely helpful," I propel myself off the seat, thanking them with rushed sincerity. Who would have thought the crazy twins would be the crucial piece to turning this whole thing around.
"Be careful," Delores calls earnestly after me as her sister flippantly adds, "Don't get roasted, hot stuff."