A/N- Wow! You guys have given me an amazing response for a first chapter! Thank you so much! An extra big thanks to my first reviewers, Guest, Prime's Assistant, Ava, lovinburbuks and BananaLollypop!
Chapter Two- Invitation Only
It had occurred to me on multiple occasions that the Tarot card invitation could have been a load of bullshit. It had also occurred to me that it could be a plant from a murderer, and that I was currently getting ready to meet someone who wanted to stab me in the face, dismember my corpse, tie the limbs up in a bin bag, then dump the bag in an alley. But I was also a cautiously optimistic person, so I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and instead focussed on the fact that this could be something highly important and life-changing.
This was what I concentrated on as I stood in the shower the early afternoon of March twenty-ninth. To be honest, it was the only thought I was allowing in my head. If I concentrated on the fact that this was all a ruse to lead me to my death, I'd have nothing short of a panic attack. And that was never a good thing. I'd had one on the plane flying over to New York for the first time and nearly punched the seventy-four-year-old man sitting next to me in the eye. It hadn't been pretty.
"You used to be, thirsty for me! But now you wanna be set free!" I sang loudly, massaging strawberry shampoo out of my blonde hair, singing along to Black Widow by my favourite singer, Iggy Azalea. "This is the web, the web that you weave, so baby, now rest in peace!" I shut off the shower, stepped out into the somewhat freezing bathroom and quickly wrapped myself in a purple towel. I made sure I'd shut all the blinds in the other room before hurrying out of the bathroom. I didn't want to give everyone on the streets a good eyeful.
I opened my wardrobe and stared at the vibrant explosion of fabrics. Shit. I had no idea what I was going to do today, what this meeting would entail. How the hell was I supposed to know what to wear?! Was it formal? Casual? Pyjamas?! Gah!
Right. Calm down, I told myself firmly. Stop getting so worked up over this. You risk your life nearly every day and you're freaking out over some invitation. Get a grip! I blew out a lungful of air. At least my subconscious remained rational.
I dropped my towel and hastily pulled on a pair of panties and a bra, then decided to select my usual colourful attire: in this case, I chose electric blue skinny jeans, a red jumper and printed Converse. I figured I might as well show them who I really was, rather than wear some boring, professional-looking black blazer suit.
Now a lot more calm and collected, I set to drying my hair with the towel, then the hairdryer, followed by twisting it up into a simple messy bun. Makeup was also clearly needed, so I dabbed on some foundation, eyeliner and pink gloss. Nothing too elaborate- I wasn't onstage.
I wondered if I was the only person who had been invited to whatever this thing was. I sincerely hoped not, as that really was a Class A clue that you were about to get murdered. No! I needed to stop thinking like this! This…thing…whatever it was, was going to be good for me! Christ, I was usually so positive. Must have been the nerves.
I looked at the clock on the wall, and saw that it was coming up for ten to four. Aw, Jesus, I was starting to run late. I wanted to be at 45 East Evan Street at least ten minutes early, give a good impression and all that. So I grabbed my purple satchel bag, shoved in the Tarot card, my purse, my travel make-up bag and my iPhone in its red crystallized case. It was time for me to rock this bitch.
"Hey! Yo, taxi!" I yelled, running out into the road and waving my arms in the air. "Taxi! Taxi! TAXI!" Christ alive, it could not be harder to hail a taxi in afternoon New York if it tried. Still, one did actually manage to stop for me after a couple of minutes of yelling myself near-hoarse, so I quickly hurried across the traffic and jumped into the car.
"Hey, thanks for like, stopping and all that," I said, pulling my purse out of my bag ready. "I was starting to think I'd be yelling for hours."
"It is my job," the driver said dryly in the distinct Brooklyn accent. "Where d'ya wanna go?"
"Forty-five East Evan Street, please," I said. "I don't suppose you can tell me how far away that is?"
"East Evan?" the driver repeated, pulling away from the curb and heading up the street. "Yeah, that's about twenty minutes away."
"Ooh, excellent!" I practically cheered. "Any chance we can stop at a McDonald's on the way?" I'd been so het up since I woke up that I hadn't eaten anything except for a small bag of Doritos, and I was officially starving.
The driver laughed. "Polite, ain't ya? Typical Brit." So he was one of those stereotypists. Any second now… "Ever had tea with The Queen?" Yup. Right on cue.
"Oh yeah, sure," I said wryly. "Me and Lizzie, we go way back. I flew over to Buckingham last July, actually. Yeah, see, I'm Prince George's godmother since I used to date Harry before he joined the army." Who's polite now, bitch.
The taxi ride was significantly quieter after that. And by quieter I mean silent. Apparently I'd scared the oh-so-hilarious driver with my sarcastic outburst, and he appeared to be quite intimidated to talk to me. Jeez, so much for New Yorkers being so big and tough. Still, I used the journey time in between my apartment and the nearest McDonald's, and then the journey time between grabbing my Big Mac to go and 45 East Evan Street to sit back and just relax. However, the time between Maccy D's and East Evan was all of three minutes, so I still had half a burger left.
Oh, really bloody professional, I thought as I handed the driver his fare, my other hand still clutching the Big Mac box. Ah, fuck it, there was no way I was throwing away a perfectly decent burger. I did not waste food, especially when I'd spent three dollars on this.
The building was…dishevelled-looking, shall we say. I mean, yeah, the description of it only hadn't exactly made it sound like the White House, but even this was pushing well-chosen descriptive language of 'needs a little TLC.' And this was just the outside. I suddenly feared for the interior.
I made my way into the building through a warped brown side door, taking my Tarot card out of my bag. The walls were an old stained yellow and the floors were exposed hardwood that clearly had not been polished, let alone cleaned, in about five years. Oh my God, what was I getting myself into?
My old Converse squeaked slightly as I made my way up the stairs, trying to finish my burger, and as I turned up the stairs to the second floor I could hear voices coming from a few floors above me. Thank God! I wasn't alone!
"-especially when we don't know who brought us here, or if it's even real." That voice was male, and had a vaguely nasal quality to it.
"Hold on." The second voice was also male, but deeper, older. "I'm sensing…I'm sensing you…are a control freak."
"I'm sorry, have we met before?!" demanded Voice One, sounding offended. Jesus Christ, a fight was breaking out and I hadn't even arrived yet.
"It doesn't take a mentalist to figure that out." A third voice joined, but this was a female. "You are a control freak." At the mention of 'mentalism' I distinctly picked up my pace a bit more, rounding around the stairs at the fourth floor.
"Well, I take that as a compliment," said Voice One snarkily.
"Only he would take it as a compliment," Voice Three said contemptuously.
"Good, another compliment."
"So that's why you're no longer a couple," said Voice Two. I reached the sixth floor as Voices One and Three burst into various denials, followed by Voice Three announcing that Voice One- Danny, apparently- thought she was too fat. Everyone stopped talking when they saw I had arrived.
I paused too. Okay, I did not get the memo that this was supposed to be a subdued, borderline-black tie dress code. I was practically glowing in the dark over here! Three people stood in front of Apartment 6A, where I was supposed to be; two men and a young woman. I very vaguely recognized the girl, had no clue who the younger, dark-haired guy was, but I did know of the older blonde dude very well.
"Merritt McKinney?" I said, squinting at him slightly. "OMG, how cool! I actually love your stuff! I always wanted to be a mentalist when I was little, but I never really had the knack. You have a gift, man. A gift." I stuck my hand out- the burgerless one- and he shook it.
"Always nice to meet a true admirer," he said, grinning cockily. He peered at me. "Let me see. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H…H! Your name is an H."
I nodded.
"It's something unusual. Hayden? No…Harper. No, that's not it…Hunter!"
"Yeah, that's me!" I practically squealed, so excited to have been at the forefront of a mentalism trick. "Hunter Blackwell, trapeze artist and illusionist extraordinaire…kind of." I stepped back between Voice One, who I now realised was Danny, and Voice Three, whose Starbucks cup informed me that she was called Henley. "I assume we're all here for the same reasons." I took another couple of bites of my burger, finishing it off and dropping the box down the stairs. Hey, it wasn't like one bit of cardboard was gonna wreck the décor.
"Looks like it," Henley said, looking vaguely relieved that there was another female here.
"So we're all here because we're into the beauty of the magical arts," I said ironically, my voice slightly muffled by the food still in my mouth. "How fun. Hey, you're an escape artist, right?" I added to Henley, swallowing, her face now suddenly clicking into my brain. "From LA? I've seen some YouTube videos of your stuff. You are so awesome."
"Aw, thanks," she smiled. "I used to be Danny's assistant, but he thought I was too fat." I did not miss the bitterness in her voice.
"Harsh, man," I said, raising my eyebrows at Danny. "If there is one thing you never, ever say to a woman, it's that she's fat."
"No, I said that one time!" Danny said defensively. "Because of the trapdoor!"
"No one could fit through there!" protested Henley. "No one!"
"Rebecca fit through," retorted Danny. "Rebecca fit for years."
"And that's rule number two broken," I said. "Never compare a girl to another girl! Do you know nothing about women?!"
"Probably not," muttered Henley, and I giggled.
"Okay, so he never made you feel special," Merritt said to Henley. "And, trust me, you deserve to be made to feel special." Wow. He already had a thing for her. Smooth worker…not.
"That's a really nice story," Danny said sarcastically. "I hope you guys enjoy each other's company." We'd all been so caught up in the unfurling events that none of us noticed the newcomer behind us until they spoke.
"No way," the new person breathed out, sounding awe-struck. "J. Daniel Atlas?!" Holy shit. I knew that voice. That deep, male, distinctive voice. But it couldn't be. No way… "Dude, I have seen everything you have ever done! You're like…I idolise you! Seriously!" Henley and Danny had already turned to look at the new guy, Danny thanking him for being a fan, but I turned slowly, hardly daring to believe it until my green eyes met with his brown ones.
"Jack?!" I shrieked excitedly, knocking Danny into the wall with my satchel as I hopped over to Jack to give him a hug. "OMG, no way! I didn't expect to ever see you again! This is so totally amazing!"
"Hey Hunter," he said happily, hugging me back. "Good to see you again!" Not as nice as it is to see your beautiful face again… And I was off into the world of Hunter Can't Control Her Hormones. I was kind of surprised at myself for hugging him, even more so at him hugging me back; we'd met and spoken all of once, for five minutes over a week ago.
"I can't believe you're here!" I squealed. "I mean, not that I don't think you're good or anything because I told you last week that I thought your tricks are seriously decent so obviously you're good enough and talented enough to be here, that isn't what I'm saying, it's just that I'm really happy to see you again-" oh my God, I was babbling so much! Shut the hell up! Now! I tailed off to slow stop, feeling my cheeks flare up in embarrassment.
"Well if you're here too, I can't be that bad," he joked. "I'm not the one who's basically Spider-Man. I'm Jack, by the way," he added to the others.
I could see Henley, Merritt and Danny eying up and evaluating the situation between Jack and I, but they all kept their mouths shut. "Question: did you get one of these?" Merritt asked, pointing at his own Tarot card.
"Oh yeah," Jack said, rifling through his pockets until he found his, which he showed to us. "Death."
"The High Priestess," said Henley, holding up hers.
"The Hanged Man," I said, holding mine up with a flourish.
"The Lover," Danny said, and Henley mock-coughed, "Three minutes!"
"Ooooh, burn!" I laughed, giving Henley a high-five.
"Hermit," announced Merritt, clearly kind of affronted.
"So what are we…are we waiting for someone?" asked Jack.
"Yeah, good point," I said. "Why are we all just chilling in a dingy corridor that smells like pee?"
"The door's locked," the other three answered simultaneously.
"Oh right," I said. "It probably would have been helpful for whoever instigated this to leave us a note saying where the key was, rather than leaving us locked out here."
Jack grinned impishly. "Oh, no; nothing's ever locked," he told us, moving towards the door. Henley, Merritt, Danny and myself all exchanged varying looks of WTF as Jack pulled something out of his pocket and crouched down by the lock. About five seconds later, the door swung open, revealing an almost pitch black room.
"Damn, boy," I said appreciatively as Danny switched on a flashlight and Henley and I switched on the flashlights on our phones. "You're just the gift that keeps on spouting new tricks, aren't you?" We grinned at each other as we all tentatively stepped into the abandoned apartment.
"What is this place?" Henley said breathily.
"Looks like an empty torture chamber," I muttered, pushing open the first door I saw. "Holy Jesus!" I groaned, reeling back as I was hit by a pretty disgusting stench. I'd opened the door to a filthy bathroom.
"Ugh!" exclaimed Henley, peering over my shoulder.
"Nope, I gotta get away from here!" I declared, closing the door quickly and stepping back into the group as we made our way down the hallway. We found ourselves in what looked like an old abandoned studio flat, still furnished. Furnished with gross, filthy furniture, sure, but furnished nonetheless.
"Wow," said Merritt, raking his eyes over the room. "And I thought my apartment was nasty."
"Man, it's freezing in here," said Jack, rubbing his hands together. He had a point. I could vaguely see my breath coming out in little clouds every time I spoke or breathed out heavily. My God, had these people never heard of a utilities bill?!
"What's that?" Henley suddenly asked, looking down. We all followed her gaze.
A symbol of some kind was set into the floor. It was simple but intricate, basic but stunning, all at the same time; three rectangles set at different heights with a straight line going through them, linking them together. A single white rose lay at the base of the symbol, next to a heavy white card. A vase half-filled with water sat away, to the left of the symbol.
"I don't know," murmured Danny, picking up the card.
"What's it say?" Merritt asked him as we looked over his shoulder at the card.
"'Now you don't'," Danny replied, looking at Jack and me in confusion.
"Don't look at me, man," I said, raising my hands. "I'm about as clued into this as you are."
Henley reached down and picked up the white rose. "'A rose by any other name'," she quoted from Romeo and Juliet, and dropped the flower into the vase.
"'Would smell as sweet'," I finished, though my voice trailed off very abruptly when we all saw the water leaking out of the vase the second the flower hit the glass bottom, though there were clearly no cracks in the glass whatsoever. "Holy crap!"
We all quickly stepped back from the water like it was sulphuric acid. "Guys, what's happening?" asked Jack, and I looked at him and shrugged.
"Whoa," Merritt exclaimed as instead of trickling around the floor haphazardly, the water filtered into the symbol in the floor. "Look at that."
"Whoa," Danny nervously laughed. The water oozed its way around the whole symbol, and the second that it was totally covered, the flooring in the symbol appeared to give way, and a load of steam or smoke or something seeped up from within the opening.
"Oh Christ, what is that?!" I shrieked, taking a couple more steps back and accidentally stepping on Jack's foot and slamming my back into his chest at the same time.
"It's gas!" said Jack, panicked.
"Oh my God, we're all gonna die!" I yelled, covering my mouth and nose with my hands to not breathe anything in.
"Relax!" ordered Merritt. "It's just dry ice."
"…Oh," I said, feeling stupid.
"Cool!" said Henley admiringly.
"Wait, what do you think this is all about?" Danny asked, apparently the practical thinker of the group.
"Hang on, hang on," said Merritt, lifting a hand to his head and closing his eyes. We waited expectantly for a few seconds, staring at him. He let out a disappointed hissy noise. "I got nothing."
"Okay, thank you," Danny said sarcastically, sounding pissed off. "Thank you for the delay."
"Oh, chill out!" I said exasperatedly. "At least he gave it a shot! I don't see you doing anything to try and find out why the hell we're here!" Danny was really beginning to rub me up the wrong way.
"I'm just trying to create the space for wisdom," Merritt retorted.
"Danny, be honest," said Henley doubtfully. "Did you do this?"
"No! Wait, did you?" Danny asked Jack.
"I wish," said Jack, looking and sounding highly impressed. "Hunter, was it you?"
"Dude, I swing from a few bars hanging from the ceiling and pretend to die," I pointed out. "I'm not bloody Harry Potter."
"Why didn't anyone ask me if I did it?" demanded Merritt. We all just looked around awkwardly. "Oh, great."
"Well did you do it?" I asked him.
"Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. "But it's the principal." I rolled my eyes and tried to switch on a light switch on the wall. Henley, Jack and Danny all did the same. The light didn't come on.
"Electricity's out," called Jack from the kitchenette.
"Well, let's check," said Merritt, reaching up into the 1970s glass lampshade and twisting one of the bulbs. It came on, glowing a dull amber.
Suddenly, an almost blindingly bright beam of blue light shot out from somewhere down the hallway where Danny was, followed by more beams originating from the walls. One shot out from behind Merritt, behind Henley and from between me and Jack. The beams met together in the middle of the room, and began to form something.
There were shapes, building designs, writing. They were plans. The picture was huge, taking up a good three metre square that we all stood around, mesmerised by it. It was a hologram, but it almost looked solid. Who the hell had technology like this in this day and age?!
"Blueprints," said Henley.
"They're incredible," murmured Danny.
I blinked heavily. "The colours and techiness of this is making me feel like I'm on an LSD trip." Four pairs of eyes swivelled over to me. "Not that I've ever taken LSD, that is!" I added hastily. "Or any drugs!" I cleared my throat awkwardly. "What is this thing?"
"Who do you think did this?" added Jack.
"I don't know, but I really wanna meet them!" said Henley, enthralled.
The shapes and sketches in the hologram all began to merge together, forming an actual coherent plan for something. I caught sight of the words 'Five Horsemen', 'stage', 'bank', 'Paris' and 'Las Vegas.'
"I think…" I said slowly. "I think it's for a show." There, in the middle of the hologram, was the symbol that had been set into the floor.
A/N- I can't believe how much of a response I got for the last chapter! I've never had that before, that is so awesome! Thank you so much, I could not appreciate it more! I hope you enjoyed Chapter Two, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! Leave a review letting me know what you thought, I can't tell you how much it would mean to me! Xx Gee xX