Page 32 of His to Haunt
“Hey, Byron, my man, we didn’t… didn’t know this was your place, dude,” Ritter apologizes.
“He isn’t answering back,” cries Kimmie after calling Silas’ name hoarsely. I rush to her, peering down into the dark, pitless shaft.
I hear a loud slapping sound and turn to see Ritter, slack-jawed, holding his reddened face, blood tricking from the corner of his lip.
“Don’t ever fucking come here again, groupie,” says Zand in a low, threatening voice before passing us in the direction of the basement door.
Groupie? Strange choice of words.
Ritter wipes the blood from his mouth, seeming to avoid eye contact with me and Kimmie. We follow Zand around the corner, and Kimmie links arms with me. We exchange doubtful glances. Tonight isn’t turning out as planned.
Zand pulls a small key chain from his pocket, and lo and behold, he produces a distinct ankh-style key to unlock the basement door.
A dank, cool stench wafts when he opens it, turning my expression sour. Zand raises his arm and pulls on a string, lighting the stairs, then glancing back over his shoulder.
“Stay here,” he orders, closing the door behind him.
The basement where Leena spent her days working, clinically rendering the dead for viewing. Did it always smell down there? Wasn’t there a way to keep it from stinking, and why close off the needed source of fresh air?
Why does Zand have the key?
Stacy had said that Zand stopped her from taking pictures of the basement, which was in ill repair. But why had my sister requested that Stacy take photos of the basement in the first place?
There is a loud thumping sound, then footsteps before Zand appears, tugging Silas by the collar of his black dress shirt before shoving him into the hallway. Sila’s pant pockets are turned wrong-side-out as if he’s been searched. His dark hair is messy, and his pale green eyes look lit. Like he’s drunker now than he was when I last saw him, his pupils fully dilated.
If I wasn’t so new here, I would be offended that Zand is treating my guests this way. But I only have one foot in the door. Zand continues to Lord over.
“You saw no such thing!” hisses Zand at Silas, but Silas didn’t say anything. Must be over an earlier conversation. “Wrong. You’re delusional,” he adds as if reading Silas’s mind before striking him in the gut with his fist.
Kimmie gasps, grabbing my hand as Zand shifts his gaze to Ritter, who backs away with wild eyes.
Zand’s eyes seem to glow, glinting in the wavering, uneven light of the chandelier. He lifts his finger at Ritter. “You better keep the fuck out of my gaze, or I’ll drag you into the ground where you belong.” His deepened lower-than-bass tone trembles the room into a state of dead quiet.
He turns back to Silas. “Devika and Templar will hear about this.”
“I told you, it wasn’t on purpose,” says Silas. “I’m not in your shit, man.”
“Bullshit. Get out!” orders Zand.
Silas nods, putting his phone to his ear as if calling a cab.
“Wait outside the gate,” orders Zand.
Kimmie’s jaw is fully dropped, eyes replete with confusion. Yeah, I feel that, too. The alarming history proceeding me in this bizarre place thickens, and our would-be fun night is utterly spoiled. Mom appears in the hall in her robe, hair disheveled and with one of her breasts half exposed.
“Everything okay down here?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I rasp, then clear my throat. “You can go back to bed,” I say urgently.
She darts her eyes between all of us, pausing on Zand, whose eyes still seem to glow. Her mouth slackens. “Uh-huh, okay,” she nods. She glances at me, and I force a smile, assuring her that the tension in the room is not as bad as it seems.
“Tell me if you need anything,” she says over her shoulder on her way back up the stairs.
I puff out air, watching Zand follow Ritter and Silas out.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“Don’t know. Come on, let’s follow,” I say.