The Umbra World

Sister

Out of excitement he just walked briskly but in a rush manner towards the hotel.

Happy that atleast his sister is alive and he has found her.

The hotel didn’t look like much—a low brick building that sagged in the middle like a collapsed soufflé. A battered neon sign proclaiming the restaurant’s name hung sideways and was sputtering. Two men in long coats and tipped-forward felt hats slouched in front of the narrow doorway. There were no windows, it looked like a prison.

Drake saw that after Clara and the other girls entered the hotel bar,they were brought to the back. He followed behind closely.

He got stopped at the front door by one of the slouching men. As he straightened, Drake caught a glimpse of his face under the hat. His skin was dark red, his squared-off hands ending in blue-black nails. mundanes would get their selfs stiffened, but Drake seemed unconcerned. He said something to the man, who nodded and stepped back, allowing him to pass.

The slouching men were in glamour. Their true forms were demons. Only a Downworlder would have the sight to see beyond the glamour.

As Drake entered he glanced around the brightly lit restaurant. It was pleasant inside, despite the lack of windows. Cozy wooden booths nestled up against each other, each one lined with brightly colored cushions. Endearingly mismatched crockery lined the counter, behind which stood a blond girl in a waitress’s pink-and-white apron, nimbly counting out change to a stocky man in a flannel shirt. She saw Drake, waved, and gestured that he should sit wherever he wanted. Humans and Warlocks that couldn't cast spell but in glamour of human form were at the hotel bar.

Soon after, Clara and the other girls came out. They were all wearing nothing but sexy lingerie. Drake had just picked up the menu when he saw them dancing toward the centre of the stage.

Beside Drake were two couple's kissing each other's hand and neck region but with the real sight you could see they were vampires feeding on each other's blood.

And immediately the crowd went crazy as the spotlight flashed around the girls dressed with sexy lingerie. Clara and the other girls started dancing erotically. It was obvious that Clara's movement was the most fluid compared to the others which sent a sign that she was a pro but however her smiles were being forced.

Everyone could see that she was the greenhorn. They all shifted their gazes to her and some even toss cash at her.

Drake was utterly shocked because little did he expect that his sister would become an exotic dancer. Their parents had made good attempts to train them better before the eventful accidents that has torn the family. Moreover,it was against the family's practice.

So many questions pumped into Drake's head with no answers.

"What is happening truly?"

Looking at the banknotes on the stage. Clara bent down repeatedly to pick them up and shove them into her bra. Giving the men in the crowd a golden opportunity to satisfy their view by feasting their eyes on her.

Witnessing that, Drake walked through the crowd towards the stage and fished out a few thousand naira banknotes and threw them at Clara.

"Thank you, sir!" Clara exclaimed the moment he saw the stack of cash she had just received from a generous man.

However when her eyes met Drake,she froze for a good few seconds.

"It can't be possible.....my brother is dead...how come this man bears so much resemblance with my late brother?" The emotions she has been trying to suppress was beginning to awaken.

She quickly withdrew her gaze pretending not to have seen Drake thinking it was the same hallucinations,ever since he was presumed dead,she has occasionally hallucinated. She continued to pick up the money on the stage before resuming her dance. She could no longer fake a smile. The smile she had been trying to wear had been replaced with drops of tears.

Drake's generosity had caught the attention of the party goers , but the moment they saw his bushy hair,the look of admiration in their eyes were replaced with those of a scorn. "Someone must have been generous to lend this mad man some nice clothes" one of the party goers stated.

"Rather than spend your life savings on a girl on stage, why not visit the barbing salon with it. I advise you avoid this place to avoid spending every of your pay cheques". Another male voice rasped.

Drake ignored whoever,his eyes were still glued to Clara's.

"How could my sister have changed so much?"

Clara turned away from Drake and turned to the opposite direction dancing but his movement were least fluid now. The other girls meanwhile were throwing themselves at Drake upon witnessing his generosity but he didn't let the seductive stroking he was receiving affect him.

He just tilted his head avoiding the dancer, he was still staring at Clara who has just stopped dancing. She turned away to glance at Drake ,she stood and this got everyone's attention.

"Sister......!!!!" Drake called her... "I'm back,I have just returned, I'm Drake your elder brother!" Drake added.

Drake looked up as her sister bent down to touch him and check for his birth mark on his chest. “Drake?” she said aloud flabbergasted. An intense surge of emotions swept through her entire frame that has caused an uncontrollable tears to start flowing down her cheeks, interrupting Drake's midsentence.

He subsided, his energy fading. “I …”

"Clara...."

They hugged themselves passionately as others watched the passionate moment unfold.

"Fuck off! Do you have a death wish? A man in an informal attire thundered. He looked like an Arab man. He had a burly bouncer behind him. He was Muhammed the owner of the bar.

Upon hearing that the men trying to get a piece of one of the exotic dancer that had been dragged off the stage scattered.

He thought his thunderous shout would disrupt the reunion moment between siblings but unfortunately it didn't and this got him embarrassed and his expression changed drastically.

"You need to get going brother. Wait for me outside the bar ,when I close I'll relate everything to you. This man is very dangerous" Clara said as she withdrew herself hastingly reluctantly and not wanting to let go.

"If I'm leaving here right now, you're coming with me Clara." Drake replied all emotional.

The four burly bouncers who happened to be fighters immediately charged immediately the Arab man gave the orders.

"Charge!"

Clara couldn't think of a what to do but to come down and stand in front Drake. Maybe because of her The fighters would abort their attack.

But they didn't and in a jiffy, as one of the the lackey's fist drew close to her face, Drake reached out and caught the gigantic fist. No matter how much force the man exerted,he found that he simply couldn't move his hands.

In an instant everyone was stunned. Afterall nobody dared go against the supposed Arab man by getting defensive when his lackey attacked. But this day,the seemingly ordinary Drake was not showing him that respect at all.

Clara hastingly tugged at Drake's sleeve, Feeling so apprehensive that she was drenched in cold sweet.

One of lackey's expression turned chilly and his eyes radiated murder. he was tall and burly and was almost a head taller than Drake. Not only that,he was bulging with muscles. Therefore, Drake would probably be crippled if he didn't die from that single blow.

The lackey lunged at him but he was sloppy and slow. Drake knew first-year Knights quicker on the draw. His ineptness was almost insulting.

Drake drew the stele from his inside pocket and drew a samurai rune which opened as the force of his Will slammed into him like a freight train. Ah, such strength! He hadn’t felt the like in years, not since the final days of his training with Shinigami. The lackey was young, too, his cheeks covered in a scraggly beard. Drake was nearly impressed.

Still, the lackey did not know with whom he was dueling.

The samurai rune became an argent shield that obliterated the solid burst of the attacking fist, a pure power sent against him. He was the train and the lackey, a Coke can. His fingers slipped across the brightly glowing rune, and he faltered, caught in an invisible net. Someone had taught him how to throwdown, but not how to focus his strength. Just enough to be dangerous. No matter.

His mind crumpled.

Blood ran down his face in rivulets from his eyes, and Drake snapped his limbs together, pinning him to the spot. He made a low, awful sound somewhere between a scream and a groan.

“You should get a drift of what I'm capable of now! "

Drake sent a wave of compulsion drawn within a thin network of suggestion and persuasion telepathically and across the lackey's mind. Such subtle strands of rune were invisible to the naked eye, but they settled on his thoughts and dug the hook of Drake coercion in that much deeper.

The capillaries in his eyes had burst, staining the whites dark red. Through the crimson mess, Drake watched his small spark of defiance blur into fear, which was satisfying to see.

If he had succumb to the demonic blood he had , he would have cast the lackey's soul beyond perdition without even blinking.

“ If I were anyone else, you would have had me.” Drake's tone hardened. “But I am not anyone else. I am Drake Wayland. An umbra hunter!" Drake roared as the lackey retreated grimacing and howling in pains. His arm was now in a peculiar angle indicating that it was bent.

At that sight everyone was bowled over, even the Arab man couldn't help taking a closer look at Drake.

Alas he felt as though he was on the verge of heart attack when he truly scrutinized the young man. He could see the Umbra hunters rune through his chest,he had the sight being alpha werewolf.