The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Seventeen - Screams

Screams

October:

I hung up the phone with Darren and quickly placed Ace’s cell on the coffee table. She’d been kind enough to let me use it to call Darren while the boys went out and did the shopping. I would have gone with Parish, but Spade owned a motorbike, which meant that he could only take one other passenger. Ace offered to take me on her bike, but someone needed to man the shop. Parish and I had a little chat and decided that he’d be safe with Spade and that it wouldn’t harm anyone if I stayed in the shop with Ace.

Not even five minutes after the boys had left – on Spade’s stunning BMW– Ace dragged me into the den. She yanked out three giant, heavy and extremely old books each about the thickness of my thigh and set them on the apothecary table in front of the couch that served as a coffee table. I helped her peruse through the books, searching for stories or pages that would give us an idea of what was going on with me and Parish.

The books were filled with stories about Buruburus and Kelpies and Kitsunes and all kinds of other supernatural creatures I had never heard of. I’d just been about to ask her if she truly believed in all the nonsense in the books when the kitchen phone rang and she leapt out of her seat to answer it. By that time, I’d been holding her cell phone for over ten minutes, unsure what to say to Darren.

When she left, I’d inhaled deeply and dialed his number – which Parish had written down for me on a piece of paper before he left. The conversation with Darren had been alright, even though he’d sounded a little worried. It was to be expected, I guess. We had been missing for four days. I’d hung up quickly when I heard the shop bell ring, signaling that The Black Tarot had a customer.

A very large part of me wanted to see what Ace and Spade did in the magic shop, so I let curiosity get the best of me, and wandered out of the den and to the front of the large house. I stepped into the hallway that led to the converted foyer just in time to see Ace cross her arms over her chest and shake her head.

“Gomez isn’t here. What’s this about Doyle?” She asked the surly faced man in front of us. If he hadn’t been scowling, I guess I would have called him a handsome man. He was Ace’s exact height, with a strong jaw and deep set dark eyes. His blond hair was slicked back and the sleeves of his shirt were a little too big for his skinny arms.

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped, taking a step close to Ace. She didn’t budge, didn’t even blink, but looked him straight in the eye. It reminded me of this documentary I’d seen once; Ace was claiming the shop as her territory and not allowing this strange, angry man overpower her in her own domain. “Go and tell your boss to get his ass out here right now. I’ve got no time for games today.”

“Either you need to invest in a hearing aid, or your memory’s going to shit, Doyle. I told you, Gomez isn’t in today. If you have a problem, you’re going to have to sit your misogynistic ass down and talk to me. Or come back when Gomez is here.”

“You bitch. Are you seriously incapable of shutting your mouth to keep yourself out of trouble?” he took another step closer until he was almost in her face. Despite how angry he was and how little regard he seemed to have for Ace, that didn’t stop him from taking a lewd peek down the front of her shirt. He gave her a malicious smile, “Run along and get Spade then. He’s the one I’ve got the problem with anyway.”

Ace cocked an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, “You have two seconds to step the hell away from me and address my face before I make you.” Almost unnoticeably, Doyle swallowed and took a cautious step back. Even from where I stood I could feel Ace’s anger. I could only imagine how hard it had hit Doyle. “Spade obviously isn’t here either,” she continued after a slow breath. “If he were, don’t cha he’d have come out to see why you were throwing a tantrum? Like I said earlier, you can either deal with me, or leave and come back later.”