Then again, as he reminded me, he’d never heard of a human capable of seeing beneath veils.
I’d correctly identified three daemons. And for every vibe I got, it matched up with the daemon’s auras. Two of them gave me buzzy feelings and had glowing auras, and one made me feel so apprehensive that I got a little nauseous. He was a hideous creature with a pig’s nose, tusks coming from the corners of his mouth, and a viscous black aura around him.
One of the daemons with a super bright aura gave me that sweet thrumming feeling, and while she was not as beautiful as the royal fae at the bar, she was very pleasing to look at in a weird, almost alien way. With a teardrop face, pointed chin, and large black eyes, her entire frame was delicate. She had golden hair that reached her waist with shimmery wings poking out from her back that fluttered the entire time she sat at a table, talking to a human man.
So fascinating and I resolve to start sketching each of these creatures from memory. While I might not have Fallon’s Fine Arts degree, I do share some artistic talent with my twin in the form of drawing. I’ve always been good at it, and it’s a way for me to relax. Not that I’ve had a lot of time lately to devote to such a notion.
Carrick calls it a night, and we leave the bar to head the six blocks back toward The Prestige. It’s a nice evening in the upper fifties with no rain in the immediate forecast, which was the pre-requisite for us deciding to walk.
His strides are long, and I have to practically jog to keep pace with him. As we pass other pedestrians and sidestep the homeless lying next to buildings, he’s quiet. Even as upper class and trendy as Belltown is, it’s not immune to the city’s homeless problem. Many of the displaced have set up large camps in various parts of the city and these places can be dangerous. Most are out of work and have no home due to addictions to drugs like meth and heroin, and almost all have mental health complications. These camps are staunchly defended, many of the homeless having modified weapons with which to fend others off.
But even outside the camps, they are prevalent in the city where they might be able to panhandle their next fix. They’ve not only become a nuisance to regular passersby, but they can be criminally dangerous, always on the hunt for the easiest way to get their next fix.
Frequently, that is a simple mugging of an unsuspecting person.
It’s not something I worry about walking beside Carrick. Not only is he big, but he also has a presence about him that would cause even the most whacked-out drug addict to give a wide berth around him.
This is evident as some even shrink back from him as he passes by, but Carrick is oblivious to his effect on them.
Certainly oblivious to their plight.
I’m not always able to look the other way. An older woman sits against the marbled wall of a bank that long ago closed business for the day. She’s bulked up with several layers of clothing, the easiest way to carry the most important possessions she owns. Her gray hair is matted, her heavily lined face is dirty, and she holds a little piece of cardboard that says, “I’m hungry.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a few bucks I have stuffed there. When I hand them to her, she mutters a “thank you,” which carries the strong scent of alcohol toward me.
Oh well… not my business to decide what she does with her money. She has to eat so maybe she’ll use my money for that. I choose to give them all the benefit of the doubt because of that whole “there but for the grace of God go I” thing. Or maybe I just want karma to remember these little things in case I need help one day.
By the time I straighten, Carrick is half a block down and hasn’t noticed I’m not near him. I have to break into a legit jog now, and I’m regretting I chose the ballet flats instead of Chucks tonight.
As I’m passing a side alley, though, I hear something.
A scream?
Definitely female, but I’m not even sure it came from down that way.
Skidding to a halt, I peer into the darkness. The lighting is virtually nonexistent except for a floodlight near the end that hangs over a service door. In between that light and me, it’s impossible to penetrate the dark.
Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe I didn’t hear anything.
Hesitating, I hear nothing except the mewl of a feral alley cat and decide it must have been what caught my attention. I turn quickly as I’m sure Carrick is probably more than a block away now, but I crash right into a brick wall of muscle.