Chapter 4 A Devil's Call

Lucian

"Whiskey. Double. Keep them coming," I said, my voice sounding like it was covered in gravel.

Mick looked up from the glass he was cleaning. He saw my face and his hands slowed down. He didn’t say anything for a second, just grabbed a heavy glass and the bottle of the cheap stuff I usually liked.

"Lucian," Mick said. He threw a dirty rag over his shoulder. "You look like you just came from a burial."

"I might have. Just pour the drink, Mick."

He poured it. The liquid was dark and smelled like fire. And I drank the whole thing in one go. It burned my throat, but the burn was better than the thoughts in my head. The wind from the ride over was still ringing in my ears. I wanted it to be louder. I wanted it to stop me from thinking about the mansion and the man who lived there. It didn't work.

"Rough night at the estate?" Mick asked, pouring me another double without me asking.

"Every night is rough there," I said.

"Heard your father threw a big party," Mick said. He started leaning on the counter. Mick always talked too much. He thought we were friends because I’d been coming here since I was old enough to hold a bottle. "The whole town is talking about it. Alistair Hale gets what he wants, doesn't he?"

"He gets what he buys," I muttered. I stared at the amber liquid. My mother was the only thing he couldn't buy, and he’d still lost her. Or maybe she’d just given up.

"Well, he bought something real pretty this time," Mick said. He chuckled, a wet, annoying sound. "I saw a picture in the paper. She’s young. Real young. I guess the old man finally decided he needed a trade-up. He needed a fresh face around that big, lonely house."

I felt my hand tighten around the glass. I could feel the edges of the heavy crystal biting into my palm. "Watch it, Mick."

"I'm just saying," Mick went on. He didn't know when to stop. "A man like Alistair, he can't be alone. He needs a wife to keep the name going. And honestly, Lucian, it was time. Your mother... she's been gone a while. This new girl, she’s a good replacement. Better than a ghost, right?"

The word hit me like a physical punch. Replacement.

"What did you say?" I asked. My voice was very quiet now.

"I said she's a good replacement," Mick said, still smiling like he was saying something nice. "Every man needs a..."

I didn't let him finish. The glass in my hand was already moving. I didn't think about it. I didn't plan it. I just felt the heat in my chest explode. I smashed the glass right into Mick’s face.

There was a loud CRACK. Blood splashed across the back shelf, covering the bottles of gin and vodka. Mick went down hard. He didn't even yell. He just hit the floor behind the bar.

I stood there, breathing hard. My knuckles were stinging. I looked at the blood on the floor and didn’t feel bad at all. I felt a little bit better, actually. For about five seconds.

People were shouting... then the front door kicked open.

"Police! Hands up! Now!"

I didn't move. I didn't try to run. I just looked at the two cops coming toward me with their guns out.

"He called her a replacement," I said. I wasn't looking at the cops. I was looking at the empty space where Mick’s head had been.

"Get on the ground, Hale! Now!" One of the cop yelled. He sounded nervous.

"I heard you," I said. I moved slow. I put my hands behind my head and knelt down on the sticky floor.

"Face down! Get down!"

I laid down. The floor smelled like stale beer and old cigarettes. I felt the cold metal of the handcuffs snap shut on my wrists. They bit deep into my skin. I didn't fight them. I knew how this worked.

The police station was bright and smelled like floor cleaner. They put me in a small room and told me I had one call. I sat there for thirty seconds, looking at the black phone on the wall. I didn't want to call Alistair. I’d rather rot in a cell for ten years than hear his voice tell me how much of a disappointment I was.

I dialed the private hall line at the mansion. It was the line that sat in the main corridor. Alistair never picked it up. He had people for that. I didn't know who would answer. I just knew I didn't want it to be him.

The phone rang twice.

"Hello?"

The voice was quiet. It sounded careful, like she was afraid the phone might bite her. It was her. The new wife.

"It’s me. Lucian," I said. I leaned my forehead against the cool plastic of the phone. "I need you to come get me. I’m at the downtown station."

There was a long pause. I could hear her breathing on the other end.

"The… police station?" she asked. She sounded shocked.

"I don't have a lot of time," I said, looking at the guard by the door. He was watching me. "Listen close. There is a safe in the study. It’s behind the painting of the mountain. The code is zero four, twelve. Got it?"

"Zero four, twelve," she repeated. "Lucian, what happened? Why are you..."

"Take what you need for bail," I interrupted. I didn't want to explain myself. Not to her. "And don't tell my father. Just don’t let him know."

"Lucian, I should tell him. He’s your father, he can..."

"Don't tell him," I said. I lowered my voice. I hated the way I sounded. I sounded desperate. "Please."

That word felt like it was tearing my throat out. I never said please.

"I'll come," she said. Her voice was firmer now.

"If one word of this gets back to Alistair..."

"I won't tell him," she said.

Then the line went dead.

I sat back on the hard bench. The silence in the room was heavy. I couldn't believe what I had just done.

The hours went by slow. Every time a door opened, I expected to see Alistair’s angry face. I expected him to come in and tell me I was nothing. But he didn't come.

I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I thought about the way Mick had looked when he said that word. Replacement.

"Hale," a voice barked.

I opened my eyes. A guard was standing at the bars of the holding cell. He was jingling a ring of keys.

"Your ride's here," he said. "Paperwork’s signed. You're free to go."

I stood up. My legs felt stiff. I walked out of the cell and through the station toward the front desk. My heart was thumping against my ribs.

I didn't know if she had come alone. I didn't know if she had called Alistair and he was waiting outside in the limo to scream at me. I didn't know what kind of woman she really was.