Chapter Twenty-Eight
CANDRA REACHED THE BOTTOM STEP before she recognized the customer in the gallery. He stood with his back turned to her, but she would have known him anywhere regardless. His head tilted to the side, examining a carved couple sitting on top of a bronze sculpture of a meteor. She went to check the door and found it locked. Candra presumed Gabe had left the latch off and the lock had slid into place after Philip entered. Assured there would be no other late customers, she made her way over to Philip. Her heels clicked in the silence of the soundproofed building. Brie had made it that way so people experienced the gallery as a sort of sanctuary from the bustle of the city.
“Philip,” she greeted him, friendly but business-like.
He didn’t respond. Philip stood stoically, apparently entranced by the embracing couple entwined on the pedestal in front of them.
“I had no idea you were into art. Maybe I should go get someone to help you out.” Candra ignored the goose bumps rising on her forearms. Not referring directly to Brie was intentional. Candra didn’t want Philip to know who was on the premises. It felt like a strategic move but not one she had made consciously. Pins and needles ran over her scalp.
“No,” he answered. “It’s you we want.”
Candra automatically scanned the gallery in search of anyone else. She saw no one. She considered the possibility of someone hiding in the storeroom but dismissed the thought since the door was usually kept locked.
“We,” Candra echoed haltingly. The last thing she wanted was to feel scared. The old her would have been indignant at this intrusion, but when Candra smoothed down her shirt, she realized her hands were trembling. Philip had made a nuisance of himself anytime they had met since they broke up. She couldn’t ever remember him making her feel threatened. If anything, she’d pitied his attempts to win her back because his fragile ego demanded he keep a perfect record of cast-aside conquests.
Philip rocked forward onto his toes and then back onto his heels. Candra took another step back, sensing something off about the situation. Her heart faltered, and her stomach knotted. The voice inside her head that she hadn’t heard in so long rang in her ears. Go now.
Candra flinched at the demanding and distinctly male voice. Her knees locked in position. The voice came again. Leave.
The instruction, underlaid with penetrating urgency, did nothing at all to still her shattered nerves. Her feet refused to move. She pressed her lips together, considering her next move. It seemed almost irrational to be afraid of Philip, but her instincts had never failed her so far. The internal voice was always right. In reality, she knew it couldn’t really be her father because he no longer existed. Candra hoped it was some latent memory of him left behind in this world, a ghost of the angel he had once been that remained to protect her.
Philip’s fingers twitched by his side as their protracted silence wore on. Candra found herself peering at his grubby fingernails, a reddish mud gathered underneath them. Candra blinked rapidly. No, it wasn’t dirt. It was blood…dried, encrusted blood.
Adrenaline fired up and burned through her system, creeping up her spine and awakening every sense. Her body was like a steam engine, building pressure, ready to power across open space and trash anything that got in her way. Candra’s fists clenched mercilessly, and the muscles in her arms strained as she concentrated on reeling in the power surging through her and manifesting as a faint glow across her skin. Brie…She had to remember that Brie just a short distance away. Candra closed her eyes for a moment and forced the power back down.
Philip’s shoulders rose sharply, accompanied by a deep breath. The exhale from his open mouth seemed to slice through the air like a garbage bag split open to release the rancid stink of rotten meat.
“You positively reek of goodness.”
Candra stiffened. If he could smell goodness, the vile fragrance emanating from him was pure evil.
“Time to go,” she ground out through clenched teeth, desperately trying to get a grip on the bubbling energy inside her.
I am here with you…listen.
Her whole body jerked in reaction to the words. They were not her words—she was sure of it now—yet, they were coming from inside her. The voice she had always thought of as her father’s, wasn’t. Candra didn’t recognize the soft enunciation at all. She had always thought her life would eventually drive her insane and wondered if it had finally happened.
“We answer to her, not to you,” Philip said flatly, snapping her back to the situation she should be concentrating on.
Get through this now, and go crazy later, she told herself. “Her?” Candra inched her feet wider and softened her knees, although she wasn’t sure if it was to run or fight. Surely she could use the strength in her muscles to fight off whatever Philip was about to do. Every molecule in her body told her he was about to do something.
Philip laughed, and the malevolent cackle echoed around them. Candra’s skin crawled. She took another step. This time, her back hit the wall, and she looked around again but found nothing. No one could get in, but she couldn’t get out…unless…There was a fire escape to the back of Brie’s office. If she got that far, perhaps both of them might get out without a confrontation. Candra was sure two more guards were positioned on the roofs around the gallery. She wondered if they’d mistaken Philip for a customer. It made her think of every single ridiculous horror movie she had ever seen where someone chased the victim up the stairs before they were sliced and diced. Besides, Brie was the one in real danger. If she died, that was it for her. If anything, Candra needed to lead any intruder away from her, not toward her. She caught sight of her skin where her shirt gave way to her wrist and hand. Her skin shimmered with a silken quality, as if a thin layer of oil coated the surface. She felt as though all the power contained within her might burst right out of her flesh.
Then Philip turned to face her.
Candra gasped, but it sounded hollow in the cavernous room. She bit down on her lip. One scream would bring Brie crashing down the stairs.
Philip had been handsome before. However, now, his eyes were nothing but glassy black orbs in sunken sockets. His skin was ashen, as if he had been completely drained of blood, leaving him hollow-looking with ghastly sharp cheekbones jutting out through papery skin.
“You’re not Philip.” Candra said the words in a whisper as the realization of what was about to happen crawled over her flesh. This creature was here for a purpose, and it wasn’t to browse for art. The battle lines had been drawn. Her decision to give in to Lilith meant nothing. It was too late.
