Dangerous, Diabolical
Chapter 6 - Run Rabbit Run

About ten minutes after Leofstan had left, I bolted out of bed. This Grahame character might be able to protect Willow, but I didn’t know him and I wasn’t about to risk it. Heading toward the window I unhooked the old window stay and pushed the pane wide.

The moonlight caressed the landscape below. Dusky lamplights flickered as a few persistent cars still sat in the hospital car park. After a quick skim for any sign of life, I climbed on the window sill. Normally I’d push a bit of magic into the whole ‘don’t look here’ vibe, but despite Leofstan healing the worst of my bumps and scrapes, the reserves were still shockingly depleted.

Standing atop the fifth floor, the wind ungracefully buffeted the flimsy hospital gown. My other clothes had disappeared. Considering the state they were left in, I wasn’t too surprised.

I was sad to lose the jeans.

With nothing but a deep breath, I stepped out. There was something about being weightless. No matter how many times I did it, there was always the moment falling when the world went by quickly, but time slowed to a crawl. As soon as I pushed my wings free into the air, the force was not dissimilar to hitting the ground. The power of the air smacked into them with a jolt, suspending me momentarily and leaving the rest of my body, still human-shaped, dangling awkwardly.

The updraft gently floated beneath the stretched skin of the elongated bones and I greedily inhaled the scents carried within it. Drifting steadily to the ground I bent my knees slightly for the impact, snicking my wings back into my human guise. I stumbled as I landed, running a few steps to absorb the motion. Unpracticed, and under-transformed, my landing was too fast; propelled forwards - skinning my palms and the gem - off the ground, I froze, waiting to see if the world changed again.

Instead of a memory, a homeless drunkard gaped at me. “Well yeah, you try landing on two feet!” I snapped at him, struggling to stand. He merely took a swig of his drink, face agape. “How about you give me your jacket and I let you live?” I proposed to him. He didn’t need to ask twice. He shrugged it off, passing it over with trembling hands.

“Lord forgive me, I’m going to get sober. I promise I’ll repay my debts.” His voice wobbled.

The long trench coat was mottled with dirt and dried alcohol. It smelt acidic and was a strong contender for being worse than the hospital. It was either that or running in a hospital gown up the street. “Good for you!” I told him, shrugging the rough material on. Leaving the homeless man standing in a t-shirt I briskly made my way to find Willow.

Irritatingly as the club came into sight she was nowhere to be seen. Marching toward the club, I didn’t wait for the bouncer, I slammed the door open myself.

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa!” The bouncer called, his arm coming to halt me on my breastbone. Oh, I knew this one. Grabbing the thick wrist, I slid my hands to link through his fingers.

“Markus, you’re not going to deny a girl some fun right?” Biting my lip as I looked up at him, he smirked handsomely back. He worked the most shifts so I saw him most nights more often than not.

“You know you’d have a lot more fun if you came home with me, Andy.” He twirled me into his chest and I obliged. Whilst I could smell the human in him, underneath lurked something other. Like me, he seemed to fill more of a room when he was in it. Whatever his other self was, it was something big. Several times I’d daydreamed about taking him up on his offer.

“Sorry handsome, I’ve got errands to run, people to eat.” I winked at him.

Watching intently from under his eyebrows he drew my hand to his lips, gently brushing my knuckles. I tightened my other hand behind my back, relieved he hadn’t grabbed it. The smell of his longing hung in the air and the urge to drag him out back was beginning to overtake the previous worries about Willow.

Hopefully, she knew how to regrow herself... with a sigh I pulled out of his grasp, giving him a little wave. Markus made a show of pouting, holding his hand out longingly. Flashing a smile I entered the door curtain, the burn of his eyes on my butt, scanning through the low lighting.

Girls danced, and the smell of sex, sweat and alcohol was heavy. This was why I rarely came in. With the weak human males, it was like an all-you-could-eat buffet, but with all the scents, it made it very hard to control. Lamentably there had already been a couple of accidents.

Concentrate! I chided as a rather plump male who would be perfect to chew looked my way.

A subtle gold shimmer flickered from near the bar, and I immediately pegged it for my goal.

“Andy?” I saw Willow mouth curiously as she raised a shot of vodka, trading it for a tap of a card on the reader. Tonight she was on shot tray duty. Excusing herself from a male’s couch she sashayed over, sporting a waist-length straight-black wig, the ends beaded with gold. Once I’d managed to give her a quick once over, it felt as if I could finally relax. The beat of the club music seemed to come to focus, as the chatter of the patrons, and the clinking of glasses added noise to the undertones. When she got close enough to think she could be heard over the music she hollered, “What the hell happened to your clothes?”

I looked down, surely I didn’t look too bad. The hospital gown was just about passable as some kind of kinky attire, but I guess the trench coat wasn’t the best accessory.

“I was chewed on by a zombie!” I yelled back over the music so she could hear me. Her face crinkled in laughter, offering me a shot. “I’m serious!” I protested, taking it gratefully.

She stopped laughing, shooting me one of her trademark ‘what the hell did I just hear you say’ looks. This was followed by me raising my eyebrows and nodding. ‘Yes, you are correct’. She mimed biting aggressively with her teeth, so I pointed to my scabbed-up shoulder. At which point she shot me a dubious glare. Understandably, it didn’t look like I’d been ravaged recently by undead. There didn’t seem to be a universal look for ‘I was magically healed’ either, so I gestured to the shots instead.

We both took one, clinking them together and downing. “C’mon.” Willow gestured towards the back where the private rooms were located. As we slunk into the room, there were many curious looks and glare from the bartender as she handed back a half-full tray.

The rooms were nicely decked out, with plush seating holding secret compartments, which she quickly began foraging through for the spare outfits. The club volume was muted, to match the interior of feeling more intimate. I began to peel off the coat and shredded gown, revealing the large extent of bruises, scabs and minor cuts. The recessed lighting showed them off brilliantly.

“A. Freaking. Zombie!” She squealed, as she considered, then discarded a thong.

“Some kind of Lycanthrope. Maggots were thrown in and all.” I wiggled my fingers like creepy crawlies and she grinned at me.

“Was it like the movies?” She squealed, holding a bodice up, before shoving it back under my alarmed face.

“Nah, it bit me a few hours ago and I haven’t converted yet.” I gestured at my shoulder.

“That’s a few hours old?” She paused to look closer, pulling a confused face. “That appears to be at least a couple of weeks old.” She reasoned, glaring suspiciously, before darting to examine the door, poised to run.

“Do you feel hot, clammy?” Willow quizzed, leaning over to smack a hand to my forehead.

“Don’t worry, it was a councilman that healed me.” Willows’s head lurched, and she almost pulled my head off. I swatted her hand away. “Zombism isn’t settling in.” I was sounding quite far from being reassuring.

“Pity.” She reacted, holding an angry finger up. “if you were a zombie you might be less of an idiot.” She wiggled the angry finger at me. It was so cuttingly direct. “Mother Earth Andy!” I winced as she swore. “What are you thinking putting yourself around them still?” I busied myself moving pulling on a club logo t-shirt.

“It’s purely coincidental,” I argued. She just groaned, throwing me a pair of jeans. “Plus one of them is a vampire. Come on, even you can admit that’s super cool.”

“He didn’t drink your blood did he?” Turning to roll my eyes at her she sighed but returned to hunting for attire.

“Nah. He looked a bit suspicious actually, luckily didn’t stick around for long.”

She threw a pair of heeled thigh-high boots at me. “Because he knew you weren’t human at all?” She guessed. I just smirked in reply.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “One day you’ll tell me right?”

“Perhaps.” I shimmied in the new attire. “Suitable?”

She eyed me critically. “A little overdressed actually.”

“I’m only wearing a shirt.”

His eyebrows shot up as she gestured to the club and her barely-there outfit.

“At least find me some trousers.”

“Only shorts.”

“Fine.” I compromised as a glittery spandex pair was thrown my way. I pulled them on awkwardly over the boots that were far too much effort to take off again, shoes that long should come with laces.

The Spriggan fae watched me, just shaking her head. “So I take it you’re not only here for a wardrobe update?”

Gritting my teeth I honestly answered, “Apparently you might be a target.”

“Oh.” She squeaked, her fingers went to her neck, cradling the necklace I’d given her.

“I think you should consider treeing out for a while. Somehow there’s a Spellcaster tied into all of this.” My voice was soft, but it still came out more demanding than I had meant it to be.

Somehow there’s a Spellcaster tied into all of this.” My voice was soft, but it still came out more demanding than I had meant it to be.

Slowly, she gave an uncertain nod of her head. “I guess so, I’ll finish up my shift and let the boss know I might be out of town for a while. It all depends on whether the king agrees.” She was referring to the king of the fae court which held her allegiance. A solo fae creature that had nowhere to call home was never long-lived, but it was also for that very reason they were rarely registered with the council.

The fae kings and queens did not look fondly on their subjects devoting themselves to two rulers.

“I’ll wait if you want to walk to the treeline behind my house?” I was surprised by the relief on her face as she nodded.

We went back to the main room, and whilst she went to finish her shift, I took a seat at the bar. The bartender poured me a glass of wine. It was sweet, almost like blackberries and my mind drifted. Leofstan was going to teach me magic. It both caused me to wiggle in excitement and the bottom of my stomach to flip anxiously. If even for a minute he suspected my true nature, then things may quickly go very badly for me.

My leg tapped to the beat of the music. The smell of the club, the sway of the bodies, and the lull of the wine were making it very hard to sit still on top of anticipating what could happen tomorrow.

Willow came back for a new tray. I gave her a reassuring smile, but she was stiff, eyes darting to the door every time it opened. I was concerned she might tree out there and then.

A few males came to entertain me with conversation so I allowed them to stay and keep me preoccupied until they seemed to grow in confidence. As soon as they became too cocky they were then fixed with a strong glare which rapidly ran them to the other side of the club.

On the second such man that hurriedly left I felt the burning gaze of being watched. From across the bar, blood-red eyes locked onto me in a stern glare. Poor Grahame looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.

I smiled sweetly, raising my glass in a toast. “Grahame! Fancy seeing you here,” I spoke normally against the music and observed his expression darkening. He had heard me over the music alright. I smiled sweetly, raising my glass in a toast. He did not oblige. The man must have left his sense of humour in the coffin.

The music suddenly skipped a beat and the mood in the club shifted. Sure enough, behind the bar, the clock hand snapped to 3 am. I downed the last of my drink as the shadows responded to the call, the magic in the air growing thick. Any humans still lingering gained a glazed expression on their faces.

Grahame stood, trying to take in all the movement around him as whilst everything still appeared the same, beyond a doubt it was different. The club suddenly appeared to be heaving at the seam with new bodies.

“Welcome to the witching hour,” I whispered to him, holding my glass out for a refill. His attention darted to me as a red liquor was tipped in with a clink.

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