Chaos Unlocked Page 4

  Okay, wow, maybe Betrayal is a little right.

  It didn’t stop her from checking on him like every other person in the bar though. His phone kept lighting up, casting shadows across his face, and not even that was unflattering on his features. The frown was though, and Daria moved back in his direction when he sat his phone face down.

  “Another drink for your troubles?”

  “Sure, why the hell not.” He shrugged as he watched her, and ran a hand through his hair, stretching his shirt taut across his biceps.

  Yum.

  The night was winding down, and Daria’s enthusiasm with it. Her feet hurt, her hands were sticky, no matter how many times she washed them, and the constant socializing was exhausting.

  But at least Andrew was nice to look at. She slid what was probably the last drink of his across the bar. His drink wasn’t on the specials menu, so he’d be forking over a pretty penny for the hours he’d spent sitting there.

  “So,” she prompted when he took the first sip. “What are we drinking to this evening?”

  Drinking to, drinking for... It’s all the same, right?

  “Come on Daria, you can do better than that,” Betrayal huffed.

  Promptly ignoring him, she studied Andrew as his lips curled over the edge of the glass and sucked his drink down. Watched his throat work as he swallowed.

  “And… I’m out.” Betrayal retreated to the back of her mind and she forced herself not to frown at the tone in his voice.

  “Just some stuff at work that I’m not a fan of.”

  Daria was sure the IT department was different from her neck of the woods, but she remembered plenty of things she wasn’t a fan of in the PR world.

  “I relate to that.”

  “Yeah… I suppose we all have our demons.”

  As if they were corporeal, Daria felt all the demons in her head stiffen at his words, and she had to admit it threw her for a loop too, hitting a little too close to home. Then she shook her head and grinned. It was a common phrase, used every day, and she laughed at the accuracy.

  “I’d drink to that, if I could.”

  As if she’d read Daria’s mind, Allegra slid a shot her way and winked. At her startled glance, Allegra just grinned and downed her own drink.

  Lifting the small glass into the air, she clinked glasses with Andrew. “Looks like I can drink to that.”

  They exchanged cheers, their gazes tangling long enough for a flush to work its way onto her cheeks, before another customer tore her away.

  When she turned back around, Andrew was gone, Allegra having taken care of his card and receipt. All he’d left was a sizeable tip in his wake.

  Disappointment wormed its way through her that he hadn’t left her his number, but hell. He knew where she worked, he’d be back if he wanted it to move past flirting across the bar.

  She could only hope.

  DARIA

  The next day, with a storm rolling in on dark clouds carrying thunder, rain, and lightning, Daria took a deep breath as she ran an errand. The weather in its current condition was her favorite. It was humid, yes, and definitely not good for her hair. The breeze was fierce, the sun was hidden, and the trees swayed with the wind.

  She remembered her foster mother used to say that even nature knew to hide in the face of a storm when the leaves flipped over and hid their faces.

  This is not her time, Daria thought as she shook the thoughts away. She laid a palm against the door and pushed into the bank, the cool air from inside rushing past her to escape into the humidity of the outside, blowing a few strands into her face.

  The bank was quiet, like always, as she stepped up to the first teller’s window and presented her safety-deposit box key. The women here were familiar with her and her mother’s strange request and knew not to ask any questions.

  It was appreciated.

  The woman nodded with a genuine smile on her face, and Daria hoped she looked that sincere when she greeted her own customers at the bar. Not that they would really care that late in the evening, but Daria liked to put her best foot forward. Well, she guessed in this case it was her best face forward, but—

  “You’re rambling,” Truth pointed out.

  He was right, which was getting old, real quick.

  Daria waited outside the gate while the teller walked around the back and met her in the safety-deposit box room, and used both of their keys to open the box. The teller left and Daria took it to the privacy room off to the right. The small room had windows, and she sat the box down and stalled for a bit as she watched the dark clouds roll across the sky outside.

  Okay.

  With a deep breath, she pushed in the tab and lifted, and the lid snapped open with a pop of plastic.

  There was a new letter, and Daria’s heart pounded against her chest, in time with the thunder that cracked outside the window. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she knew it was the weather app telling her how close the lightning had been.

  This safety-deposit box had been their only form of communication her entire life— and Daria’s heart stopped with the knowledge that this was the last letter she’d ever receive.

  “Take a deep breath, Daria,” Hope insisted.

  As she sucked in oxygen, she recognized it was time to come to terms with her mistake. One that had lasted a lifetime and spanned even the realm of death.

  Carefully, Daria pulled out the last envelope, the others rubber banded together in the back of the large box. This envelope was a little heavier, and she learned why when she ripped the top open to reveal a key to yet another safety-deposit box, a smaller one in the same room.

  Her brows knotted in confusion, but she unfolded the letter, and a few words jumped off the page and took the air from the room.

  Cult. Accident. Death.

  Her throat tightened as she began to read, the tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to swallow. The guys were silent, but she was sure they could feel the emotions threatening to spill over and rip her chest open. The handwriting was etched into the paper in a mess, barely legible, and Daria was left wondering why she’d been in such a rush.

  Daria,

  By the time you read this, you’ll know it’s the last one I’ll be able to leave. And I’m truly sorry for that. I wish we had more time together. Hell, I wish I’d been able to wrap my arms around you and tell you everything would be okay. I would have liked to say goodbye in person, but alas, this is the life we were dealt.

  The last time I wrote to you, I told you everything was quiet on my end.

  I’m sorry Daria, but that was all a lie, but one I would have much rather preferred to live. I know you never believed me, and I don’t blame you for that. I wish it was all a lie, a crazy tale all in my head. By now you know better and I’m sorry for that too.

  I’ve mentioned the curse before in my letters, so go back and read, now that you know it wasn’t a lie. As the last of Pandora’s bloodline, you need to stay alert. The demons will help.

  Things are different now, I don’t know what’s changed for the cult, but they’re after us. I’m assuming I’ve died in some tragic accident, but if you look below the surface, I think you already know it’s more than it appears.

  They’ll stop at nothing to release the demons inside of us. You’re the last of the bloodline, and therefore they are closer than they’ve ever been. Don’t let them win.

  I know life has been hard for you recently, so take the other key and access the new box. Inside, you’ll find a bit of cash to get you by until you can be safe again. Take it, run, and hide. Get to the other side of the world and don’t let them find you. By now, they’ve already located you and are just waiting for the right moment to strike. Don’t give them that chance.

  I know you’re a strong, beautiful, independent woman, but take no chances—you can’t beat them. There’s a book in the box, a book on the hunters. Knowledge is power, and I only think it’s fair you know why you need to hide.

  Take the demons, r
un, and live your life quiet, out of sight, and somewhere peaceful.

  I love you, and I’ve always wanted nothing but the best for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to warn you sooner, prepare you more, but I always hoped this day would never come. I tried to protect you. Instead, I led them right to us and I am truly sorry for that. I would fix it if I could, but it seems I’ve run out of time.

  Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Daria. I love you with all my heart, my little wish.

  P.S. Go easy on the demons. They’ll be your best friends if you let them. That doesn’t mean they can’t be pains in the ass, but in the end it’s worth it—like the best brothers a girl could ever have. Embrace them. They’ve been better friends than I could have ever hoped for. Let them help you. Guide you. Take care of them for me, and let them know I loved them too, and I’m sorry I failed.

  Tears streamed down her face as she read all the words once, twice, a third time before she folded it along the creases with shaking hands and tossed it back in the box. Her breaths shuddered past trembling lips as she tried to control herself.

  Daria had always assumed her mom was crazy. Hearing voices, imagining demons, it had all sounded mental. Refusing to listen to the nonsense, Daria had shut out those parts of her mother’s life. Daria had felt abandoned, tossed aside, and never truly understanding why it was that she had to speak to her mother through a bank security box, even though it had been an open adoption from her birth. But now that everything had changed… she knew it to be because the bloodline of Pandora could never be kept in the same location.

  Now, she believed the truth.

  Now, she had to come to terms with the fact that she was the one who’d abandoned her mom.

  Her mother had just been looking to protect her.

  In a haze, Daria pulled out the older letters and stuffed them in her messenger bag, knowing the information stored inside was important.

  Not here.

  Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Daria shut the box. With the new key in hand, she went back into the lobby to grab the teller’s attention. Once they’d unlocked the new box and Daria was once again alone, she took a deep breath before opening the lid.

  And immediately yelped before slamming it closed.

  A bit of cash?

  Holy fucking shit.

  As if it would bite her, she gently opened the lid again and blinked rapidly. Maybe she was hallucinating. A bit of cash was a couple hundred or maybe a thousand to get a plane ticket out of the country. What lay before her had to be… fuck, it had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars. The five-by-eight box was crammed full with banded hundred dollar bills.

  This has got to be a joke. What the fuck am I going to do with all this?

  DARIA

  Daria returned home with a sigh, holding the letter and… yeah, she’d grabbed a few hundred from the many stacks that were now in her possession.

  She’d barely pulled it together enough to leave the bank, and now in the comfort of her home, the emotions that she’d forced to the back of her mind swarmed like sharks in the torrential waters of her mistakes.

  Never again would she doubt her mother.

  Her mom had said leave, so Daria would leave.

  In her room, she jerked out her duffle and tossed it on the bed, grabbing handfuls of clothes to stuff inside. She had no idea where she would go, what she would d—

  It wasn’t until she opened her nightstand drawer to grab her phone charger that she paused, the coaster on her nightstand holding her attention. The Twist decorated the front of it and she stared.

  It was a bartending job. One that she could get anywhere…

  A sane person would leave it behind without a second thought. Daria guessed she wasn’t quite as sane as she hoped, because all she wanted to do was stay. This was her home. Things were just turning around. Ever since her career had gone up in flames, she’d been struggling just to get by, barely making ends meet. This had been the light at the end of the tunnel for her, and she’d been on the cusp of digging herself out of the hole she’d found herself in. Now, she was expected to just abandon all that and run away? Start over completely?

  “You wouldn’t be starting over from scratch. Your mom left you enough to make sure that didn’t happen.” At Truth’s words, her mind turned to the money her mother had left her. The money still sitting in the safety-deposit box. It would be plenty to last her… hell, probably the rest of her life. Daria was lying if she said it didn’t tempt her, the cash her mom claimed belonged to her. That she’d saved for her to keep her safe.

  And I don’t deserve a single penny.

  The thought dawned on her and she sat down hard on the bed, dumping her head in her hands as the thoughts swirled in her head and the guilt settled on her heart.

  Daria had no words for how hard she wished she could go back in time and erase some of the things she’d written to her mother. The harsh, ugly words she’d scribbled down in moments of hurt and misplaced anger. Unbidden, tears welled, and she lifted her head to sniff them back before falling back on the bed and staring hard at the ceiling.

  What am I doing? Mourning a mother I have no right to? A woman I turned away at every opportunity because I thought she was crazy?

  Oh God…

  “Stop that right now,” Betrayal scolded in her head.

  The command in his tone did make her pause, and she blinked through the tears as she sniffled. “What?”

  “She was your mother. Of course you have to mourn her. It doesn’t matter what you said to her. You loved her. And she loved you,” Truth spoke, and she didn’t know if it was because of who spoke the words, or the words themselves, but they hit. Hard.

  “She loved you with everything she was,” Death murmured.

  An ugly sob escaped her throat and Daria curled up on the bed as if to hold it inside, but it spilled out in the form of her tears as she cried.

  She cried for the way she’d felt abandoned. For the mother she’d never really known. For her mistakes, for not believing.

  Her chest ached with the force of her sorrow, and she hiccupped for air as revelation after revelation slammed into her.

  Her mother had always been open about the curse, but it was Daria who’d shut her out, who’d turned her away at every notice. Any time the demons, the voices, the cult, the curse came up, Daria had turned her head and scoffed.

  Crazy. Mental.

  Daria had felt abandoned, always wondering why her mother had given her up. The answer had been there all along. She hadn’t given her up, she’d been protecting her.

  I ruined any chance I had of knowing her.

  I abandoned her.

  Tears soaked the pillow she pulled to her stomach and curled around. For just a split second, it seemed a finger trailed over her cheek to wipe away her tears.

  “It’s not your fault. She still loved you,” Truth promised.

  “Stop saying that!” she begged.

  “No. Because it’s true.”

  That made it even worse. I don’t deserve it.

  “You’re looking at it all wrong. Your relationship was so much more than curses and locked boxes. Don’t focus on what you didn’t have. Look at what you did have,” Hope whispered through her mind, pulling with it an image of all the letters she’d brought home.

  Their entire relationship lay inside those letters.

  “Read them again, this time knowing the truth,” Betrayal suggested, and she envisioned him elbowing a blond in the side.

  Tears still tracked her cheeks, but she caught a breath and it eased some of the sting in her chest.

  Everything she needed to know lay in the letters, years and years of her mother’s life. Daria could reconnect with her there; see everything differently now that she believed. It was all she had left.

  Regret filled her up. If only I’d realized sooner…

  “Good grief. Just go read the letters. You’re giving me a run for my money, Daria,” Misery mumbled, and it tore a laugh fro
m her throat despite everything.

  She sat up and wiped her tears away. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to stop living my life.”

  “Then don’t. We’ll go wherever you go,” Death told her.

  “Not like we have a choice,” Misery pointed out.

  Misery might have had a point, but Daria didn’t miss the undercurrent of meaning in Death’s words.

  It was a vow.

  “I figured you all would be upset with me. It’s my job to keep you… ” Well, this just got awkward.

  “Locked up?” Truth asked bluntly.

  She winced as she walked to the bathroom to wash her face.

  “Well… yeah. I’m supposed to… protect you, in a sense. Aren’t you worried I’m making the wrong decision?” she inquired in her head, the cold water a shock to her senses as she drenched her face.

  “Daria, we’ve been around the block a few times. Are you comfortable here?”

  Drying her face with the hand towel, she glanced around her bathroom, then looked back at her bedroom. This apartment was smaller than her first one, but she’d been happy to let that one go. Too many bad memories. Too much betrayal.

  This one though? It might be smaller, but it was hers. She thought of the bar, and the coffee shop down the street that she loved. The movie theater she snuck into to catch reruns of the same movies she’d seen a hundred times.

  This was her home. Maleston was her life. She’d built a life for herself outside of the disaster of her career. It was hers.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Then stay. Better to face them on your own turf rather than run somewhere unfamiliar to you.”

  Hums sounded in her head, agreeing with Truth’s statement. All but one. Betrayal, she could sense, was not happy about her decision.

  This was her life. She wanted to live it.

  In the kitchen, she pondered his words while she brewed a pot of coffee, her gaze drifting to the messenger bag and the stack of letters within. The book on the cult. She had so much information at her fingertips; all she had to do was take it.

  When the coffee pot dinged ready, she poured and doctored a cup before moving to the kitchen table and tugging the bag closer.