The auction wasn’t until tomorrow, and that left me with time to kill. Time to dig deeper into the mysterious amulet and the people who wanted it. I spent the better part of my day visiting occult shops in the city, the kind that reek of incense and are lined with shelves filled with every crystal, herb, and talisman you can think of.
I questioned shopkeepers, some more tight-lipped than others, about the amulet. Information was scarce; it was as if the amulet itself had vanished from public knowledge or perhaps had never really been a part of it. But when I mentioned the Crimson Key Society, I saw a couple of eyes widen, followed by hasty excuses to attend to other matters. No one wanted to talk about it, but their silence told me enough.
My internet searches backed up the nervous looks. They were into some seriously dark stuff, and not the kind you’d put on a mood board for Halloween.
Feeling the weight of that discovery, I bought another taser. It wasn’t magic, but it was something. A girl can never have too many self-defense tools, especially when she’s dealing with a society that’s a target for both magical and mundane law enforcement agencies.
As I left the last occult shop, taser in my bag and unsatisfactory answers weighing heavy on my mind, I couldn’t help but feel the urgency of the situation catching up to me. The Crimson Key Society was dangerous; that much was clear. But what did they want with an amulet no one seemed to know anything about? And more importantly, what would they do to get it?
“I should’ve grabbed that gun from Oliver’s place,” I muttered to myself as I checked my reflection one last time before heading out. But dwelling on what I could’ve or should’ve done wasn’t going to get me anywhere. It was time for Plan B—or was it Plan C by now?
Dressed to kill—or at least distract—I made my way to another mage bar. It was a slightly dingier place than the one I’d visited in Ashbourne, but it had the same eclectic atmosphere, a mix of the arcane and the ordinary. People chatted in hushed voices; some hovered over arcane texts, while others threw back shots imbued with magical essences.
I ordered a drink, something potent with a twist of enchantment to keep my wits about me. While I sipped, I scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot a guy who seemed a bit too interested in his own drink, taking furtive glances around the room as if expecting someone—or something—to jump out at him.
Bingo.
Throwing on my most flirtatious smile, I made my way over. “Is this seat taken?”
He looked up, surprised, then quickly masked it with a smile of his own. “Not at all. Please, have a seat.”
And so, the game began. My objective was simple: get this guy to spill whatever he knew about the amulet and the Crimson Key Society. And if I had to bring him home to do a little more…persuasive interrogating, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
I had pliers, shower curtains, and industrial cleaning tools back at my apartment.
As we conversed, I felt the layers of his resistance melting away, replaced by a fascination I’d become an expert at inspiring. I knew I was getting close, my intuition sensing the web of secrets he carried.
I felt an electric charge in the air, one that wasn’t just due to our conversation. Over the man’s shoulder, I noticed a group of patrons staring at us a little too intently. They exchanged knowing glances, their fingers brushing over amulets and charms hanging from their necks. And that’s when I noticed it: every single one of them had some semblance of the Crimson Key insignia, whether it was discreetly embroidered on their clothes or subtly crafted into their jewelry.
I suppressed the panic bubbling inside and used it to fuel my actions. “You know what?” I said, leaning in to murmur in my new friend’s ear. “I think I left my phone at the last place. Would you mind waiting for me here while I quickly grab it?”
He frowned, hesitating. “I can come with you.”
“No, no, I’ll be right back,” I insisted, already moving toward the exit. I made it seem like I was blissfully unaware, but every instinct screamed at me to get out.
The door led me to a dimly lit alleyway, where the distant sounds of the city echoed. My heels clicked against the cobblestones as I forced myself not to run. Behind me, the door burst open, and the murmur of voices grew louder.
I pulled out the newly acquired taser from my bag.
The alley took a sharp turn which I used to my advantage, pressing myself against the brick wall, ready to strike. Two men rounded the corner, and without hesitating, I lunged at the one closest to me, pressing the taser against his neck. He convulsed and dropped like a sack of bricks, and his companion, caught off guard, took a second too long to react, giving me the window to kick him square in the chest. He went stumbling back, and without waiting, I made a run for it.
I could hear them giving chase, their voices echoing with urgency. My breath came in short gasps as I sprinted down alley after alley.
Suddenly, up ahead, a streetlight revealed the main road and the sounds of late-night traffic. Safety. I forced my legs to move faster, and as I reached the street, a taxi was pulling up to drop off a passenger. Without thinking, I yanked the back door open, jumped in, and yelled, “Drive!”
The cab took off, leaving the alleys and the Crimson Key members behind. My heart still raced, but at least for the moment, I was safe.