Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (story books to read TXT) 📗

She’ll forget about you. Ah, those were the mind gremlins I knew, kicking me when I was down. Or maybe they were giving me the best solution when it came to Ryann. A true escape from all of the danger and trouble she was mixed up in because of me.

Stop wallowing and get your ass out of this shower. I had places to be, and none of this would fix itself by staying here. Erebus had sent me a message. No mirrors, no blood-smeared windows, just a good, old-fashioned text message. No one was more shocked than me. I didn’t know if it was because of his human body, or if it had something to do with the Winchester House, but he seemed to have entered the digital age. And badly, at that. It was less of a text, more of a letter, and he’d clearly had a few issues with autocorrect.

Dear Flinch,

Meet me at the Clearist Industrial Pork at 11 o’clock in the morning. Bay 4, near the refuse collection. Do not disappoint me. You have had apple time. Three days, as agreed. If you do not have the mop by now, then you know the prize you will have to pay. I will be waiting.

Best regards,

Error bus.

Reluctantly, I clambered out of the shower and dressed. It’d probably take me an hour to find an exit, and then I’d have to figure out how to get to the Clearist Industrial Park. At least I knew Erebus wouldn’t have reason to kill me today. I had his map, and he still needed me to find his gateway. So, that bought me a little more time, even if it just delayed the inevitable.

Man, I’m laying it on thick, aren’t I? I had to snap out of this funk, fast.

I pulled up to the industrial park, stopping just shy of a building with a big number “4” emblazoned on the side. I’d gone for a cab in the end, and I hadn’t had much trouble getting out of the Winchester House. Mary had helped me find the front door after swooping in on my aimless wandering.

“Can you circle the block for a bit?” I asked the cabbie.

He nodded. “Sure, though it’ll cost you.”

“That’s fine.” I’d rather shell out some cash instead of trying to hail another cab out here. And I really didn’t want to walk back. I got out and watched the cab move off before heading for the warehouse. It took a couple of minutes to find the dumpsters, but Erebus was nowhere to be seen.

“Finch! Over here!” a deep voice hissed. I whipped around to find my old pal Erebus poking his head out of a nearby alleyway.

“What, this wasn’t clandestine enough for you?” I asked as I headed toward him.

Erebus raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you’d call me into some back alley in the middle of nowhere. You know this is the beginning of every True Crime documentary I’ve ever seen, right?” I sensed Erebus had a penchant for playing gangster. Even the weather had decided to cooperate, with gray clouds rolling in overhead and the first spits of rain starting to fall.

“Never mind that. Do you have what I require, or not?” Erebus ignored me and held out his hand.

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t?”

He smirked. “I honestly couldn’t say. Perhaps you would be foolish enough to come empty-handed. It’s not as if you could hide from me. I may not have my usual skills, but I have my ways, and I am excellent at improvisation.”

Why did you have to say that? The creeping paranoia set in and bristled up the back of my neck.

“Well, I’ve got it, so I guess we’ll never know,” I managed to reply, swallowing my fear. Delving into my jacket pocket, I removed the folded map and handed it to him. His eyes lit with excitement as he took it from me.

“Excellent work, Finch. I knew you had it in you.” He smoothed his fingertips across the paper. “However, you look rather weak. You should rest. I would hate for your heart to give out from fatigue before you finish my work.”

I shook my head. “My heart’s fine, and I’d sleep better if I didn’t have you and your tasks looming over me at all hours.”

Erebus laughed coldly. “At least I know you’re giving these matters all your attention. Now, speaking of tasks, your next will be to find the key to the Gateway to Atlantis. But, before you start complaining and despairing, you will be pleased to know that I’m giving you a few days’ respite.”

“What’s the catch?” Benevolence wasn’t one of his usual qualities.

“No catch—there are simply a few wrinkles that must be ironed out before you can start that endeavor.”

I frowned. “Wrinkles?”

“This body has kept me very busy, now that I no longer have my cosmic form. My various tasks take much longer than I’m accustomed to.”

“Sounds like you’re the one despairing and complaining,” I observed. “You wanted this, remember?” The smell of the dumpsters stung my nostrils—the sweet, sickly, foul scent of decay. Erebus didn’t seem to notice.

“Watch yourself, Finch,” he snapped. “Or do you need reminding of how powerful I am, even in this form?”

I sighed. “No, you’ve proven that. I think I’ve still got a lump on the back of my head from where you knocked me flat.”

“Good, then let that be a lesson you actually learn.”

I eyed Erebus closely. “Can I ask a question?”

“If you must.”

“What happens if you lose your human body? Do you go right back to being cooped up in Tartarus? Or would something else happen?” I’d been wondering for a while, after finding out that he wasn’t quite as powerful in human form.

“Mind your own business,” he replied coolly.

“Can I ask another question?”

Erebus rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“You seem pretty chipper, considering Davin already has the map and now we’ve got to figure out this gateway key. Well, I’ve got to figure it out,