The Dreamtrap - 2. Chapter 2

- II -

Raven lightly ran his mouth on the back of Julian’s neck, noting that almost non-existing smile, and left the restaurant after the blond started saying something business-like to his lunch companions. He walked towards his car, lazily throwing off invisibility once he stepped behind some tree, and when he got inside, he sat still for a few seconds, frowning thoughtfully, and lightly beating his fingers on the steering wheel. Finally, he nodded to himself and turned the keys in the ignition. He could think of at least six antique shops around the city, and he was hoping to find something he would like in one of them.

...Four hours and five antique shops later, Raven was beyond frustrated, tired, and hungry. There was absolutely nothing in either one of those shops – he couldn’t believe this! Oh, sure, there was some decent furniture, interesting-looking jewelry and other stuff like that, but not a single attention-catching painting.

“How hard is it to find one goddamn painting?” he muttered and glanced around, looking for the nearest food joint. Unlike Salamander, Raven couldn't care less about exotic dishes or expensive dining places; he didn’t mind them, he would enjoy them whenever he was out with Julian, but when he was hungry, a fat, greasy hamburger and some equally greasy fries certainly won the prize. He swiftly turned into a parking lot of some small restaurant with a picture of a disturbingly obese little boy on the logo, and parked under a tree, aiming for some shade – it was getting rather hot lately.

Julian wouldn’t be caught dead eating one of those things, he thought melancholically while waiting for his hamburger ten minutes later. He shrugged to himself, grabbed his plate with oozing grease hamburger and a serious mound of fries, and walked into the back of the restaurant, hoping to find a clean table. The one in the very back was clean enough, and Raven sat down, slightly wincing at the unpleasant feeling of old, cracked leather of the bench.

He was wolfing down his hamburger, absent-mindedly staring through the dirty glass of the window, trying to remember locations of some other shops, when he blinked several times, frowned, and leaned forward without abandoning his hamburger.

“Your coffee, hun,” someone said, and he turned his head.

“Thanks,” he muttered when the waitress set a coffee mug in front of him. “Hey, what is that place over there?” he pointed towards the window, and the waitress leaned forward just a little and squinted her eyes.

“Oh, that’s a pawnshop,” she said after a few seconds and straightened up. “Got opened a month or so ago...”

That explained why Raven couldn’t remember seeing that place before – it has been a while since he stopped in this part of the city.

“The owner is a slick little bastard,” the waitress was saying meanwhile, and Raven shot her a questioning look. “He is making money hand over fist,” she explained. “I remember what he was driving when he opened that place... It was just some piece of crap car...” She snorted. “You should see what he is driving now...”

“Good businessman?” Raven offered, and she snorted again.

“Good scammer,” she said in a low voice. “Frankly, I think he is doing something else besides ripping people off though... There are quite a few shady-looking characters visiting that shop all the time... Of course, in this part of the city, you have to be shady-looking to set a foot in such a place,” she shrugged, and Raven smiled at that. “Would you like anything else, hun?”

“I am good,” Raven quickly shook his head, finishing the rest of his hamburger and fries. “Thanks!”

“Let me know if there is anything you want,” she gave him a quick, tired smile. “A piece of advice...” She looked out of the window again. “If you think you want to buy something from that guy, don’t let him know that you have the funds... Believe me,” she nodded firmly. “You don’t want him to know that!”

“Thanks,” Raven smiled at her, thinking that the owner would have to be suicidal if he decided to rip him (or rather Julian) off if Raven were to buy something from him.

She flashed him another quick smile and walked away, limping slightly. Raven gulped down some of his coffee, slightly wincing at the burnt taste it assaulted his taste buds with, and got up, leaving several bills on the table. A dirty place or not, but he liked that woman, therefore, he left a decent tip.

He stopped by his car and thought for several seconds. Finally, he shrugged and walked towards the pawnshop. He was already here; might as well see what the guy was selling.

“You know,” his inner self said thoughtfully. “If this were a movie, that would be when the main character would decide to go into some random pawnshop just so he could get some cursed item, come back a week later, and find out that there was no pawnshop to begin with...”

Raven sighed, thinking that when it came to his luck with random dangerous items, this might very well be the case.

“In case if I find anything,” he muttered under his breath. “Which is unlikely,” he said pointedly. “Anyway, if I do buy something there, I’ll make sure that Julian runs a scan on it...”

“In the movie...” his inner voice started saying, but he grimaced ant cut it off.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “I don’t think this guy would be dealing with anything bigger than money laundering, and I couldn't care less about that!”

His inner self was about to say something else, but Raven cut it off and pushed open the door of the small shop – it only took him five minutes or so to get there from the food joint’s parking lot. He expected to see some old person, whose appearance would match ‘a movie’ description to a t. However, the minute he walked inside, he only saw a middle-aged couple and some plump-looking guy, who looked like he was in his early forties.

“...genuine dragon leather,” the guy was saying with inspiration, and Raven just blinked at that.

“Seriously?” he thought incredulously. “There are idiots who actually believe that crap?”

It appeared to be the case because the woman moaned rather loudly and said:

“Dragon...? Oh my God, I love dragons...!” Here, she threw a quick, desperate glance at the man who was accompanying her.

The man seemed definitely older, and Raven knew what he was going to say even before the woman closed her mouth.

“Is there any way you could lower the price?” the man said with badly hidden restraint, and Raven grinned.

“Buddy,” he thought while pretending to be interested in some junk under the glass display. “You just lost this battle... Next time, just get a hooker...” He briefly glanced at the woman. “Might be a hell of a lot more satisfying,” he nodded to himself and returned to his display scanning.

He sighed when he realized that his display-scouting routine wouldn’t do him any good (“...Unicorn blood...? Are you serious...?”), and glanced around to justify him leaving without even saying ‘hello’ to the owner. Then he forgot how to breathe.

“Two hundred talons,” the owner said quickly, and Raven blinked at that.

“What the hell is he selling?” he thought dumbfoundedly, tearing his gaze away from that perfect painting. “It better be a part of an actual baby dragon...!”

The man who lost the battle without even knowing it, sighed deeply, and stared at the pair of gloves with gloomy desperation. Raven shook his head and looked at the object that caught his attention. It was a medium-sized painting in a simple-looking frame. He didn’t care about the size nor the frame; it was the painting itself. It depicted a young dark-haired woman who stood in what seemed to be some sort of a hallway of mirrors. The mirrors were everywhere – the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. She was wearing a long blue dress with short sleeves, and she was hugging herself as if she were cold. Her head was turned in such a way that it was impossible to see her face, not even a reflection of it in countless mirrors.

Raven couldn’t figure out what captured his attention so much, but he knew one thing – this was the painting. He reached for the price tag and managed to catch a glimpse of the price right before the plump-looking owner stepped in front of him, wearing a wide and almost sincere smile.

“If you are looking for a painting, look no further,” he said enthusiastically. “This is just rubbish,” he quickly moved the painting out of Raven’s reach. “Give me a minute to wrap this up...” he demonstrated ‘genuine dragon skin’ gloves. “...and I will show you a real treasure!”

“I am not interested in...” Raven started saying, but the man interrupted him with a quick wave of a pudgy hand.

“One minute,” he nodded and shoved the painting behind the counter.

Raven sighed, knowing why the guy was reacting this way. The price tag said, ‘100.75,’ which meant the owner was hoping to sell something much more expensive to him.

“Tell you what,” the owner jabbered meanwhile to the gloomy to-be-payer for the gloves. “I like you; you seem like such a nice couple...! How about I’ll take twenty talons off the full price?”

The man grumbled something unintelligible at that.

“Oh, heck,” the owner sighed deeply. “You are robbing me! Robbing me right now...! All right, twenty-five talons off... God,” he muttered as if to himself. “If I keep giving stuff away, I am going to go bankrupt...”

Raven was getting less and less amused with the entire situation by the second. The owner’s manner was starting to annoy him. He folded his arms in his chest, waiting for the middle-aged guy to pay for those damn gloves and leave finally, with the ecstatic woman in tow.

“Now,” the owner quickly put the money away and all but rubbed his hands together. “Let me show you a real treasure...!”

“I don’t give a damn about your treasures,” Raven said tiredly. “I want that paining, and I...”

“Just a minute,” the pudgy man looked like he didn’t even hear a single word; he turned away and disappeared somewhere behind the old dresser, which was sitting behind the counter. “Here,” he emerged thirty seconds later when Raven was considering simply taking the damn thing and leaving. “This, right here, is my crown jewel...”

He theatrically whirled around the canvas he was holding in his hands, and Raven stared at the bleak painting of some bizarre-looking building.

“This, my friend...” the owner lowered his voice almost intimately. “...is the original Ashkazi!”

Raven blinked at that, looked at the painting for a couple more seconds, and then started to laugh.

“If this is an original Ashkazi,” he said finally. “Then I am Reagan’s twin brother,” he nodded and glanced at the price tag. “Five thousand?” he snorted. “You’ll be lucky if you squeeze five hundred out of this piece of junk! Now, I want that painting...” he nodded at the canvas behind the owner’s pudgy form. “I want it now, and I don’t want to hear anything else out of you, understood?”

The owner’s smile faltered just a notch. Raven sighed.

“I want the painting,” he said quietly and pulled out his wallet. “Now,” he nodded and handed the man Julian’s credit card.

The owner looked at the card, read the name, and started blinking rapidly. Then he looked at Raven, and the brunet sighed again and pulled off his sunglasses. Apparently, the bizarre color of his eyes was enough to convince the owner that this was the real deal, because he nodded rather rapidly without saying anything else, and reached for the painting.

“There is a typo on the price tag,” he muttered, and Raven admired his ballsiness. “It was supposed to say...”

“I am willing to give you a hundred and fifty,” Raven interrupted him. “If you don’t like that, I will pay a hundred talons and seventy-five florins. How’s that?”

“Hundred and fifty it is,” the owner muttered and quickly ran the card through the little black machine next to the register.

Raven waited for him to finish, took the card, and slid it into his wallet.

“Would you like me to wrap it or...”

“No,” Raven interrupted him and took the painting, thinking that if the damn thing were indeed cursed, this would be ironic to say the least. “A piece of advice...” he paused before walking outside. “If I were you, I wouldn’t try to push that...” he nodded at the painting of the bleak building. “...as an original Ashkazi... You might have a decent chance of selling it if you call it an early Pallazzo... Just a thought,” he shrugged and pushed the door of the shop open. “His early stuff was ridiculously dull.”

He walked outside without waiting for the reply, and he felt almost lightheaded with satisfaction. He found just the right painting, he thought while he was walking towards his car. It was bizarre to feel this way because of some random piece of art – Julian was right when he said that Raven didn’t give a flying shit about art and whatnot. Yet, here he was, feeling like he just won a hell of a lottery. He unlocked the back door of his car, carefully set the painting into the back seat, shut the door, and shrugged to himself. It’s a cool and original-looking painting, he thought. Plus, he spent more than five hours hunting for something he would like, no wonder he felt happy. He slid into the driver’s seat and turned the keys in the ignition. The blond had better like this painting, he thought somewhat darkly. Because there is no way Raven is taking it down.

****

He got home in less than half an hour thanks to a surprisingly low flow of traffic, and marched straight into the study, ignoring the cautious look from the butler. He lowered the painting onto the floor next to the dark-cherry desk and straightened up. The weird purple circle is going away for good, he thought with satisfaction while pulling the said atrocity off the wall. Julian had amazing taste, but this damn circle had been bugging Raven ever since the first time the blond decided to display this thing in his study. He carefully set the heavy frame onto the floor, perfectly aware of the fact that the damn thing was ridiculously expensive, and that Julian could sell it easily without even trying too hard.

He made sure that the painting of a mysterious woman in the equally mysterious hallway had a proper hook on the back, and then he gently hung it up, making sure it would stay in place. He took a couple steps back without taking his eyes off the painting. It looked perfect even in its shabby-looking frame. Raven cocked his head slightly to the right, thinking that he would need to find a better frame for this thing, and then he realized that he was thirsty. He sighed and walked out of the study, heading towards the kitchen.

He ignored curious looks from the cook and marched towards the fridge.

“Anything in particular you would like for dinner, master Delamorte?” the cook asked carefully, and Raven shook his head.

“Make whatever Julian would like,” he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “I am not hungry.” He slammed the fridge door shut and straightened up. “It’s only five-thirty in the evening,” he said after throwing a quick glance at the clock. “He won’t be home until later... Just make something for him, and I will eat it as well, all right?”

“Yes, master Delamorte,” the cook replied mildly, and Raven hemmed.

Having someone else making food for you was definitely a good thing. If he had to worry about things like that, he would be probably tearing his hair out in frustration. Then again, he reasoned silently. It would make him less bored, that’s for sure. He went back into the study, drinking water as he walked. Once he got there, he pulled the curtains apart, letting the sunlight to flood the entire room, and then he perched on the edge of the desk without looking away from the painting.

He started studying the details, noting the woman’s rigid posture and her countless reflections in all those mirrors. He admired the artist’s ability to make this thing to look so realistic; it was almost as if it were a photograph – even smallest details were strikingly precise and correct. Raven got off the desk and walked closer to the wall, looking closer, curious to find at least one reflection of woman’s face. He didn’t find any, but he noticed a strange blue shadow in one of the mirrors on the farthest right. He leaned closer, trying to figure out whether it was just a missed spot of dried paint. It wasn’t, he realized with amusement a minute later. It was a reflection of... Raven frowned and leaned even closer.

“What is that?” he muttered and set his water bottle on top of the short bookcase next to him. “What is that...?”

He had no idea. It looked like some strange blue semi-circle, and it looked like it was fading. Raven stared at the painting for a while longer, carefully studying every single mirror, and noting another shadow in one of them – that particular shadow was grey, almost white. He was trying to figure out what it was, when the door to the study opened, and then there was familiar purring:

“I figured you would be here.”

Raven blinked and turned around.

“What time is it?” he frowned slightly when Julian walked closer.

“Six-fifteen,” the blond answered absent-mindedly, looking at the painting. “I managed to get off early.”

“Huh,” Raven said, thinking that it has been forty-five minutes since he started studying the painting. “You like it?” He looked at Julian who seemed rather thoughtful.

“It’s interesting,” the blond nodded slowly. “Who is the artist?”

“No idea,” Raven shrugged. “There is no name or anything... I didn’t even care about the artist, to be honest. The minute I saw it, I knew I had to have it. Such an interesting setting...”

“It’s a mirror labyrinth,” Julian said slowly, and Raven shot him a puzzled look. “It’s a trap,” Julian explained. “A nasty one for that matter... I ended up in those things three times; it was a long time ago.”

“Seriously?” Raven asked incredulously. “How?”

“First time, it was one of my then-rivals,” Julian sighed. “I was seventeen back then. Got stuck there for almost five hours, since I had no idea what that thing was, let alone how it worked.”

“How did you get out?” Raven leaned on the bookcase.

“Pure luck,” the blond said seriously. “Saw the exit and ran towards it full speed... Made it there just before it jumped,” he nodded.

“Jumped?” Raven blinked.

“Yes,” Julian looked at the painting again. “That’s the thing with mirror labyrinths. The exit keeps jumping every fifteen minutes; that’s what makes the trap so nasty. There is no pattern to the jumps, and the exit never appears twice in the same place. When I got out of there, I did a hell of the research on those things. First exit is the easiest one – all you have to do is to go straight. If you walk fast enough, you’ll make it there in ten minutes, give or take... If you miss the first exit, however...”

“...you are screwed,” Raven said with quiet fascination, and Julian nodded.

“Pretty much,” he agreed mildly. “So when I ended up there for the second time, I just bolted forward... Was a little tricky because of all the mirrors, but I got out of there in ten minutes.”

“What about the third time?” Raven sounded genuinely interested.

“I believe that the third time was a mistake,” the blond said slowly. “The labyrinth wasn’t meant for me; it was meant for someone else. I just happened to be too close to him when he got sucked in, so it took me along.”

“So you got out just fine then?”

“I did,” Julian said calmly.

“You ditched the guy?” Raven let out short laughter.

“No,” the blond replied seriously. “He chose to stay.”

“Why?” Raven blinked.

“He was positive that his mate was there somewhere,” Julian sighed. “I didn’t argue,” he shrugged. “I just left. He got out though...”

“How do you know?” Raven looked at the painting again.

“Because he is Claudia’s Air Guardian,” Julian said and leaned closer to the painting, looking at something rather intently.

Raven stared at him for a few seconds.

“Really,” he muttered slowly without even bothering to make it sound like a question. “Speaking of Claudia... How in the bloody hell did she get him back? I mean,” he shrugged. “The guy should’ve been dead by now...”

“He should have,” the blond agreed absent-mindedly. “However, apparently they passed the Trial, and no, I have no clue what they had to do. Frankly,” he glanced at Raven. “I don’t care... Here,” he said suddenly. “See this?”

Raven leaned closer. Julian was pointing at the strange blue blur that caught Raven’s attention earlier.

“That’s the exit,” the blond said slowly. “And judging by the way it looks, it’s about to jump... Right before it jumps, it blinks, and this is what it’s doing...”

“I guess whoever painted this got stuck in one of those things at least once,” Raven muttered.

“Yes,” Julian agreed. “But it also seems they got out, hence the painting.”

He straightened up and looked at Raven seriously.

“Since I am home early,” he said solemnly. “How about the weekend starts tonight? We could sleep it off on Saturday...”

“Don’t you need to make some arrangements first?” Raven asked in a low voice, feeling that familiar rush, which didn’t bother him anymore. It made him feel high instead.

“I did,” the blond said somewhat smugly. “On the way home.”

“Let’s go,” Raven said in the same tone of voice, forgetting all about the painting and mirrors.