Favors

Remembering the pouch in my corset I pull it out and open it. Inside is a piece of crystal quartz and a note. Next time, just call, also I'll need a favor in the near feature. I save her number into my back up phone and take apart my old phone, for now, that's all I'll do.

I dial up Maya after the third ring she picks up, "what now?" she sounds amused.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" she asks there's the sound of feet shuffling then someone's hushed whispering, "my men say he got up and left when that Vamp tried to enter the temple."

"What Vamp?"

"Not anyone we've ever encountered," there's a pause then she speaks again, "if you want, I can have my men look for him."

"I guess my dept's about to increase, isn't it?" I park outside the ruins of Amaranth's manor. "Question is what's in it for you?"

After a long silence, she says, "for now having you in debated to me is enough."

"It can't be that simple."

"You said so yourself, your quotas about to increase," there's a click then a bang, "sorry had to take care of that, I take it this is the number I should contact you on."

"Yeah," how I hate guns there too loud and have such a foul stench and that damned residue they leave after used oh and the fact you can't holster them right away or they'll burn you. They're one of the few things brought over from the Nether Realm that I hate, "oh, could I borrow one of your Shifters?"

"Why?"

"I need to track someone."

"Your friend?"

"Someone else."

"I'll send Jack your way."

"Thanks' I'll text you the address."

"Don't get him killed."

"No promises," I hang up and text her Amaranth's address minutes later I get a text from an unknown number.

unknown: On my way don't shoot me.

me: who is this?

unknown: Jackson

me: got it

After about half an hour a motorcycle pulls up next to my truck. The engine shuts off and the rider dismounts. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his wavy black hair, one of his eyes is amber the other emerald he has a rugged handsomeness to him, a jagged scar runs down his left cheek creating a small gap in his beard.

I roll the window down, "who are you?"

He gives me a crooked grin, "Jackson."

"Prove it."

"How?"

"standstill," I snap a picture of him and text it to Maya.

Me: is this Jack?

Maya: Yup.

Maya: why?

Me: just making sure

"Get in."

"What about my bike?"

"It won't take long."

He sets his helmet down and walks around to the passenger's side. I snatch the contents of the red envelope of the seat and toss them into my duffel.

"Who are we tracking?" Jackson asks.

"What do you know of the person that used to live there?" I point at Amaranth's old home.

After some time, he answers, "I heard she left town, why?"

"She's dead has been for some time an impostor wore her face," I turn to find him studying me, "how long do you think it was?"

"If she's dead why does it matter?"

"Just answer the question."

"Cora started changing the rules to her fight club about a year ago," his eyes continue to search for what I don't know yet, "why does this matter?"

"Because I think the person responsible for Cora's death along with Nik's."

"What are you?"

"What?"

"You smell like Shifter but also like Fay."

So that's what he was looking for, "I'm both," remembering the glamour Fie placed on me concentrate on removing it. When I look in the rear-view mirror my ears are once more pointed and my features sharpened, "now tell me, in that year were there any other changes?"

Jackson looks me as if he could tell what else lives within my skin, "she opened a Club V, it mostly admits mortals and vamps."

"You don't find that odd?"

"Not really, there are plenty of Vamp clubs, any mortal that seats foot in one is aware of the consequence."

"In other words, they won't let us in?"

"Unlikely, it opens at sundown."

"Did Maya give you any restrictions?"

He arches a brow and lets out a sigh, "what are you planning?"

"I just want to dance," I say starting the engine, "what's the address?"

"Your mad."

"You have no idea."

"You can't go dressed like that," he opens the passenger door and jumps out, "follows me," he walks over to his bike and starts the engine.

I follow him down a curved road and onto a residential area. He parks outside an orange and green, house. Orange honeysuckle grows on one side of the house, yellow poppy grows in flower boxes that hang from the windows there are two larger flower pots on either side of the entrance one has pink sword lilies the other two-toned dahlias.

"What?" Jackson asks as I follow him past the gate.

"Nothing," I say, "you seem more like the type to bury his enemies in his back yard then garden."

He lets out a low laugh, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," the smell of two females hits me the moment I step over the threshold. Oh.

"I would hope not," an elderly female pokes her head from a tiny kitchen, "don't get any ideas."

Jackson walks over to the tiny female and wraps an arm around her shoulders planting a kiss on the top of her head, "don't worry Abuelita, I know better than to mess with your garden."

She smacks his chest and gives me a once over, "who are you?"

"Camilla," I extend my hand but she just looks at it, "why are we here?" I pull my hand away and take a look around. The house has a sweet warmness to it the more I take in the more I realize there's a third female scent this one barely noticeable.

"You need clothes," Jackson says.

"I have clothes."

"No, you don't," he says just as the second female walks down the stairs.

She's lovely with dark long hair and summer kissed skin one of her eyes is amber the other emerald, she's either his mom or sister.

"Aren't you pretty," she says, "Jack rarely if ever brings guest home, especially female."

Jack lets go of his grandmother and walks over to the female, "ma not now, please," he plants a kiss on her cheek they're about the same height, "I need some of Mia's clothes."

"Why?" his mom asks.

"I need to get her into a club and she doesn't have clothes."

"This isn't a charity!" his grandma grumbles from the kitchen.

I guess Mia's, the third scent I picked up on, "I have clothes, I don't know why he keeps saying that."

She looks me over then back at Jackson, "What club?"

"Just a club," he runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair, "it's a work thing ma."

"Don't break anything," she steps to the side and Jackson lets out a sigh.

"Come on," he leads me past his mom and up the stairs. Something about his mom seems familiar but I can't place it.

Once upstairs I say, "was your grandmother always mortal?"

"What?"

"You and your mom are wolves but she's mortal."

"Oh, no my grandfather was the wolf," he stops outside a white door yellow poppy painted in spirals.

"And your dad?"

"Who knows," he opens the door to complete darkness, "hold on," he heads back downstairs and returns with a bundle of candles, "grandma doesn't care for magic."

"What about solar panels?" I help him light the candles and set them on the vanity and side tables.

"She won't let me install any," he lights the last of the candles setting it on the window ledge, "see my grandfather and her built this house after they got married, my great grandfather didn't approve of their union and disowned her."

"That sucks, she knows Shifters are magic right?"

"She considers Shifter natural magic," he opens, a door, clothes of every kind hang from hangers, "take your pick."

"Whose Mia?" I ask as I look over the clothes most of the dresses are too small.

"My sister."

"Won't she mind?"

He's quite for some time before answering, "she passed away."

"You want me to wear a dead person's clothes," I place the dress I had pulled out, back on the rack, "are you mad?"

"What? why?"

"I can't wear the clothes of the deceased, it's an insult to them," I turn to face him, "especially since there's a chance I kill someone tonight."

"You're from the Dark Realm?" his mother asks, I didn't even sense her.

"Why do you ask?"

"People from there are big on honoring the dead, with their connection to the Underworld and all."

"My Master's from there," I say.

"Follow me," she says, "and blow those candles out.

Jackson nods and I follow his mom out Mia's room and down the hall to a simple oak door. Candles and mirrors are scattered everywhere illuminating the bedroom in warm light.

"So, what are you and Jack up to?" she locks the door the moment I step through.

"I'm trying to find someone," I say keeping my guard up.

"Relax," she says and heads for an armoire, "the last thing I need is to kill someone from the Dark Realm."

"I'm not from there."

"Then where are you from?"

"The old farmlands."

"My father was from there, he's family left after the mortals were given free reign."

"Why?"

"They were ahead of their time," she pulls several dresses and skirts out of the armoire, "they foresaw the destruction of the farmlands before it even happened."

"Did they warn anyone?" I take the clothes she hands me, some of the dresses are too bright.

"Where exactly are you two going?" she asks when I set all the clothes on her bed.

"Vamp club."

She grins at me and walks over to the foot of the bed popping open the chest and pulls out a red and black dress. The top is red lace while the bottom is leather the skirt comes down mid-thigh.

"Is your friend a vamp?"

"No, he's kind of like me," I say reaching for my boots.

She smacks my hand away and hands me a pair of black heels that surprisingly fit.

"Why is it so short?"

"You're going to a Vampire Club," she says after my silence she adds, "they tend to show flesh, it's easier."

Easier, "oh, for the biting."

"Yes," she takes a color pen and moves towards me at my stillness she says, "it's for your lips."

I stand still while she outlines my mouth then dips a brush in a red paste and tints my lips. Once done she process to add a shimmering powder to my eyes then runs a charcoal pen over my eyes.

"Let's try and pas you of for a vamp, shall we," she pulls a chair over and has me sit she starts working on my hair arranging it so my ears are hidden my hair gets turned into some type of messy updo held in place by various needle-like pins with jasper on the ends, "you can't take weapons into the clubs so this should help."

"Thank you."

"Just don't get my son killed."

I stand and turn to look at her, "why does everyone keep telling me that?"

"You smell like death," she says inspecting her work. I pick my clothes up and use my shawl to carry my weapons down. We head downstairs, Jackson stands by the fireplace still dressed in his riding clothes.

"Why do I have to look like this but you can look like that?" I ask almost dropping my things when I spot the picture on the altar next to the window.

"What's wrong?" Jackson asks.

I set my things down on the couch and walk over to the altar. It can't be her can it? "Who is she?" I ask. The girl's about eight but if I had to guess I'd say it was right before her father dumped her in the Assassins Realm.

"Her," Jackson picks up the picture, "she's my sister Mia."

"Why?" his mom asks.

"What?"

"Why are you asking about her?"

"How did she die?"

"Car explosion body wasn't recovered," Jackson says, "are you alright, your kind of pail."

"Your dad was driving the car, right?"

"Not mine, hers."

How do I tell them Mia was alive up until a few days ago?

Jackson's mom moves towards me, "tell me what you know."

"I don't know how," I say, choosing my words carefully, "I could be wrong."

"Just say it."

I take a deep breath then another before speaking, "I met her a few years ago her father left her at the foot of the academy after Master refused to admit her."

"Why?"

"They won't admit children unless their orphaned, the Assassins Realm has very few exceptions," I consider my words carefully, "Master had no choice but to take her in, he left her in the pouring rain."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me!"

"She might be dead," I say, "we're being haunted, right after Nik disappeared, I got a message that said one down three to go."

Jackson's mom looks like she might destroy the world, "that bastard took her from me just so he could abandon her."

"Te dije que era un maldito bastardo," Jackson's grandma says, "pero tu no me isiste caso."

(I told you he was a damned bastard but you didn't listen to me)

"Are you sure?" Jackson asks.

"Yeah, I met her the year after her arrival. She was angry and wouldn't talk to anyone Master named her Amapola because she liked painting the flowers in red and yellow."

Jackson's mom lets out a sob then a growl, 'when I find him, he's dead."

"You don't have to worry about that," I say, the image of that night still haunts me, "we found him at a brothel not far from here."

"And?"

"There's a reason the Thorn doesn't exist anymore."

"You destroyed it."

"You could say that," I look at Poppy's picture then back at Jackson's mom, "she ripped his throat out. Initially, she had intended on tormenting for abandoning her but when we saw what he was doing," I have to stop and take a few breaths there are things I cannot stomach and this is one of them, "the Thorn used children," I swallow the acid that threatens to crawl out, "it was for their special clientele, he was feeding off them but not before... I can't finish the sentence it's difficult to breathe. Poppy and I where thirteen when we tracked her so-called father down and ended him.

"Did he do those things to her?" Poppy's mom asks.

"She wouldn't say but I have to imagine he did, we used to share a room she'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Until we got rid of him."

Jackson's tension has my skin crawling even the thing within me recoils at it.

"You don't have to help me," I say, picking my things up, "you've done enough."

"You don't seem bothered by Mia's death," Jackson's grandma says.

"What's done can't be undone," I say, "I need to concentrate on the current task at hand."

"You were friends," Jackson says as I open the door.

"You could call it that," I bite my lower lip, "if she's somehow alive I'll let her know you're not dead."

"What?"

"Her father made her believe you were all dead then told her to become an Assassin or die," I don't wait for them to speak I head out the house and straight to my truck. Why, oh why out of all the sifters I had to meet Poppy's brother. Why did I have to be the one to tell them? And who wears clothes this tight my corsets don't feel this constricting my breast feel like they'll burst free.

I toss my things into the backseat and head for the driver's door, Jackson rushes out of the house, "I'm going with you."

"Why?"

"I have my orders," he walks to the passenger's side, "and once we find your friend, we're finding my sister."