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EMILY
Ember woke me up just after dawn approached, shoving clothes into my hands. “Change into these,” she said, closing the door behind her.
I pulled on the clothes—tight black jeans, a black tank top, and a black zip-up hoodie—and dragged myself in a circle, groggily displaying the outfit. “What do you think?” I asked, my sentence breaking into a yawn. My outfit resembled Ember’s typical clothes more so than my own, though it was leaning toward tough rather than sexy this time.
Ember dipped into her bag, pulling out the colorful chalk she’d used to color my hair before the bonfire. Grabbing the red, she brushed through a few chunks of my blonde hair, streaking them with a crimson color.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, gesturing to the hair and clothes.
Ember primped her hair, attempting to make it look a little rough around the edges. “When I got my car last night, I grabbed a few things. Figured we’d better prepare before heading to somewhere like the Black Hole. Trust me, it’s better to blend in than stand out when it comes to that place.”
Such an ironic statement, considering the clothes she wore stood out to me.
Once she was done, I was shocked at how much Ember and I resembled one another. We truly looked alike, as if we were related. Sure, Ember was a bit older than me—which, I still hadn’t asked her age—but we could almost pass for twins with our matching red hair and similar facial structures. Only, she had different colored eyes and piercings on her face.
I wonder what I’d look like with piercings…
Before I could even ponder that thought, Ember led me out of the bedroom and to her car to get on our way.
We drove for a while and eventually, Ember parked her car on a secluded street, locking the doors. Was it secluded because it was the ass-crack of dawn, or because it was a street that few wanted to venture? She unlocked the trunk, pulling out a wheel clamp and putting it on her car’s back driver’s side tire. “So no one steals my shit,” she said, closing the trunk with a final thud that held an ominous undertone.
This was it. We were really doing this.
Ember led me along a stroll through the sewers. That was how I chose to think of it—a stroll—because it stank to high heavens, the pungent smell making me gag and dry heave every few minutes.
Why the hell would somebody come down here?
Maybe that was the purpose—a deterrent to keep away anyone who wasn’t searching for an underground black market for the supernatural. Otherwise, these people were crazy to make their setting one that was so foul-smelling and rancid.
My heart hammered into my chest, unsure what to expect, and I wiped the sweat from my palms against my tight black jeans. A few people clamored ahead excitedly, as if they were on their way to a concert and not a potentially dangerous underground market.
The entire experience was tripped out, to say the least.
After walking the underground sewers for nearly a mile, we approached a cavern with a set of double doors guarded by two massive dudes. The atmosphere was jarring, and I glanced at Ember, who was hunched over and taking deep breaths.
“I just… need a minute…” she said between huffs. The poor woman was having a power overload of emotions. When she regained her composure, she straightened her body and plastered a devilishly sly smile on her face, striding inside like she owned the place.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I muttered, only loud enough for her to hear.
Ember shrugged. “Not a clue. But something tells me we should go this way,” she answered, leading me through the crowd of supernatural entities that I’d never dreamed I’d be surrounded by.
She brought me to an entrance with red mist that was almost solid in form, acting as the doorway, and black vines covering everything within sight—not that you could see much past the mist. There was a heavy feeling of intoxication in the air that paired with perfection to the sensual giggles that were heard from beyond the red mist curtain. An intensity surrounded the room, and I raised my eyebrows when I heard a slight moan coming from inside the room.
Ember shrugged and faced the guards. “We need to speak with Raul.”
We were led to a man with nearly white skin and black veins that pulsed in spurts of red covering his body. His hair was dark, a major contrast to his skin, and long—though it was pulled into a ponytail. He wore a suit and carried himself with an air of confidence and debonair sophistication.
I had no idea vampires even existed in this realm, and here I stood only three feet in front of one.
His lips curled into a devious smile, and he gestured for us to follow him down a hall that resembled a hospital but was decorated more like a swanky hangout. Why did they need so many rooms? What did they do in those rooms?
When we reached a room toward the end of the hall, he took a seat on the couch and motioned for us to sit.
“We’re here to obtain some information, and my sources tell me you’re the guy.”
A light chuckle escaped his lips, and he tilted his head back in dramatic laughter. “Of course. I can give you what you need, but I require something in return.”
“Like I would expect anything else,” Ember mumbled, sitting up straighter. “Name your price.”
