by Michael Rigg
The voice was directly over him. "It is possible, Brad."
Thorne gasped and looked up. The black velvet man was suddenly standing before him. The cane was gone. Thorne glanced and saw it protruding from Grubb's forehead; Perek Grubbs who—according to the stranger's explanation—would now be very much deceased this time.
"Stand up," the man said, and turned to walk toward the twin thrones. "The head of a corporate empire should not grovel on the plush carpet of industry."
Thorne's mouth moved but no sound came out as he watched the stranger glide toward the tall chairs, the black cape swirling around the man's tall black boots, and stopping before Nigel Wolfe's wide throne.
Using the shuttered window as support, Thorne pulled himself to his feet and stared as the man removed a glove from a long-fingered gray hand, plucked a small sticky pink chunk of something from the back of Wolfe's throne, and lifted it below the black veil. Thorne cringed and covered his mouth as he heard the man's lips smacking around the morsel of what must have been part of Wolfe's brain.
"Corporate takeover is so delicious, don't you think, Brad—Oh, how rude of me. May I call you Brad? Or do you prefer Bradford?"
Thorne's lip quivered. All he could manage was, "W-Who?"
"Forgive me." The man removed his top hat and veil, revealing the gaunt gray face of a ghoul with piercing red eyes. "The name is Hearse. Teivel Hearse."
Thornes' eyes grew wide. If he could press himself further into the shuttered window behind him, he would. "G-Ghoul," he stammered.
Hearse sneered. "Such a nasty word." He waved a hand dismissively as he sat in Wolfe's throne. "Don't use it again."
For a few moments, Thorne took in the scene, his brilliant corporate mind assessing the avenues, the gains and losses, the possibilities, the projections. He saw Grubbs, dead with a cane in his forehead; he saw the double doors closed, the police and Emergency Services gone—and, he presumed, forgotten; and he saw a regal-looking ghoul sitting in his partner's throne. Gradually, Bradford Thorne's quivering silenced. He stood tall and straightened his tie.
Hearse arched an eyebrow and watched him.
Thorne ran his hands along his shirt sleeves, the front of his vest, brushed off his shoulders, stretched his neck within his collar and gave his handlebar mustache a twist before clearing his throat.
Hearse smiled slyly.
Thorne's voice had returned with some command in it. "Teivel Hearse," he said, his chin pointed up.
"At your service, Bradford," the ghoul smiled showing small pointed teeth stained with the blood of Wolfe's brain. "But call me Teivel."
Thorne took a step closer. Another.
Hearse reached over and patted the seat of the throne next to him. "Come... Take your proper place. There will be no arrest today, and no thanks necessary."
Bradford Thorne swallowed with a gulp and approached the seat. He sat on it, as far left and away from the ghoul as he could. He turned to him. "What do you want?"
"Partnership."
Thorne's forehead wrinkled. He started to say something but Hearse continued.
"I'm sure there's something in your marketing budget to cover the name change. Thorne & Hearse. It has a good ring, don't you think?"
Again, Thorne started to speak and again Hearse cut him off.
"I met your delicious former employee, Mr. Grubbs, in Philadelphia. He was most cooperative and very ambitious. I simply had to meet the man behind the guile of this underling."
Thorne frowned but said nothing. Instead, an eyebrow raised. His attention usually gravitated toward one thing: praise.
“I had to meet the individual capable of such plotting, such brilliance, such foresight.” Hearse pulled his glove back on before turning to Thorne directly with his piercing red eyes. "I know you have Atlantis now. I'm here to help you keep it."
Thorne laughed through his nose, a single puff of incredulous air as his handlebar mustache curled up on one side. "Keep it? What makes you think I need your assistance to keep it?"
Hearse raised an eyebrow to encourage Thorne to continue.
"I-I've already made plans with the Imperial Navy. The property is well secured. There's..." He let it trail off as Hearse closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "What? What could you possibly know?"
Hearse opened his eyes and leaned in close to Thorne. He whispered, "I know that you don't have the key."
"Key?"
"Did you really expect to dock a submersible to the city and just walk in with your Imperial Guard?"
Thorne nodded, but only slightly.
"You can't open a door without a key."
"W-We'll blast it open then. A torpedo—"
"Would destroy the delicate works of art within, and possibly aggravate the generators of a thousand years of pent up energy." Hearse pressed his palms together, then spread them out in an arch as he made a 'poof' noise with his tight pale lips. “All gone.”
That struck home with Bradford Thorne whose mind was now captivated by the possible treasures to be found within the walls of Atlantis in addition to the power he presumed was there. He chewed his lower lip, glanced at the artifacts around his conference room. "How then?"
"That is why I'm here, Bradford."
Thorne looked at him.
"That is why we're partners."
"Thorne and Hearse," Bradford Thorne frowned. It was both a question and a statement.
"Thorne and Hearse, rulers of the Earth."
Thorne continued to stare, his forehead showing frustration but his beady eyes curious. "Rulers..."
"But first we must obtain this key." Hearse clapped his knees with an exclamation and stood. He stepped down from the throne and turned to face his partner. "Once we acquire the key, we take Atlantis."
"Where is this key, Teivel?"
Hearse smiled. "I am not sure... but I have an idea who knows."
Thorne scowled as he pondered this, then his face opened up and blushed with anger. "Landry! Of course! That bastard knew all along that I couldn't simply walk in, and that's why the shooting hasn't started! He has the damn key!"
Hearse offered a smirk, then his expression turned nonchalant. He glanced to Wolfe's body strewn on the floor. "I'm famished after my travels." He pointed to the corpse. "Will you be joining me or excusing me for a moment?"
Thorne's jaw silently stammered as he slowly stood and stepped down from his throne. He watched as Hearse eyed Wolfe's body while peeling off his gloves and removing his cape and jacket. "No!"
Hearse looked at him.
"I-I'll leave."
The ghoul smiled at him. "I will meet you back here this evening, just after sunset."
Thorne headed toward the doors. He stopped just before Grubbs' cane-impaled corpse.
"Don't fear the authorities, Bradford. They are aware of our... merger, and will not be a bother."
Bradford Thorne nodded spasmodically before moving to the door and rushing out before his new partner started dining on his old partner.
CHAPTER 21, “Homecoming Secrets”
The scene in the greenhouse, the two pairs of eyes drilling at me, no less terrorizing than the whispering silver-haired strangers of my nightmares, kept playing over and over in my mind.
I mulled over everything from my arrival in this strange time and place yesterday afternoon to the discovery that the handsome soldier who has been my guide here was engaged to another woman—a woman I just caught cheating with his older brother. I lost track of my footsteps as I roamed around the grounds as far away from the gardens and greenhouse as I could, my brow furrowing and vision clouding as I tried to regain my focus. Something deep inside me dug for my center and pushed as I attempted to refocus on myself.
It may have been hours. Once, I thought I'd heard Addy calling for me. Or it may have been Lydia McFerran. Either way, I wasn't ready.
I made my way to the fountain and circular drive in front of the estate and sat on the far end of the fountain wall looking out at the long d
rive and arch in the distance, the letters "Landry's 7 Orchards ~ est. 1809" backwards from my angle. The space was shaded by the tall oaks closest to the house, and the cool hissing spray of the fountain brought down the temperature of the air around me. It was a comfortable place bathed in the silence of the fountain's spray, and it was perfect for contemplation.
"There you are!"
I jumped and pressed my hand to my chest. "Oh, shit!" Then my hand went to my mouth.
Addy laughed as she approached, tugging up her dress and perching next to me on the fountain wall. "Oh, Miss Alice, you really should watch your tongue. A gentle lady of the South don't speak like that." Her voice was playful, more accented with sarcasm than anything else.
I nodded and smirked. "I would think gentle ladies of the South wouldn't sneak up on people."
Her eyes wandered up the long drive to parallel my view. She reached back and sighed, pulling a pin out of her hair and shaking it so it cascaded over her shoulders. Then she removed a pair of barrettes that matched her dress from the inside of her bodice and went about re-dressing her dark brown hair, clipping it above each ear. I watched her as she worked one side and then the other. "I declare, this weather is murder on my locks. The humidity is dreadful."
I cocked a crooked smile her way before turning back to the drive. "Your hair is beautiful, Addy." I touched my ponytail which had started to frizz a bit. “At least yours remains straight.”
"I thank ya kindly, Miss Alice," she said with her teeth clamped on a barrette before removing it and setting the other side. "But I'm a far sight worse than a bear's bottom after runnin' all over this place lookin' for you."
I nodded, my chin puckering with worry. "Sorry. I wanted to kinda be alone."
"I know what that's like," she sighed a smirk of her own and let her hands fall into her lap. "I took a likin' to this guy at the university. Boy, I tell you I pined for him somethin' awful. Sat right here on this here fountain pinin' away just like you."
"Pining?" I leaned away from her, my brow furrowing at the direction she was teasing.
She narrowed her eyes at me, her freckles flexing as she scrunched up her nose. "Oh, come now, Miss Alice, it's as plain as a speckled hen that you're on the make for Bry."
"What?"
She nudged my arm playfully. "Oh, come now. I seen your eyes."
"Addy, he's engaged. I—" If she hadn't stopped me, I would have stopped myself. I didn't have feelings for Bryce Landry and the fact that he was engaged to Lydia McFerran had nothing to do with it. I just plain didn't belong in this reality. I couldn't have any feelings for Bryce. Could I? Though actually having to give life to the thought in answer to Addy's jibes made my face blush despite the cool shade.
"Oh, now, Alice I know how it is." She held her hands out, thumbs touching and fingers up as though she were framing a scene in a movie she was shooting. "Big, tall handsome soldier home from the war and all finds a beautiful redheaded woman all bare-ass naked on a skyscraper."
I felt my face burn deeper with a blush, but couldn't help smile as I gave her a shove.
"Oh, it happens all the time!" She giggled.
“You're teasing me,” I shoved again.
She shoved back, “I am, but not without merit.”
“Oh, please,” I said, shaking my head and looking down at the cobblestones in front of us. I opened my mouth to change the subject, but she took the reins and kept it on track with a slightly different angle.
“I do. I think you're sweet on Bry, and I think it's for a good reason,” she blurted, “I think he's somewhere in those missin' memories of yours.”
I closed my mouth and looked at her.
Addy smiled at me, her eyes glinting with mischief but also with a serious light. “I mean think about it.” She pressed her hand to her heart and spoke emphatically. “Bryce just happens to be the one to show up in your most dire hour of need. You have no idea how long you were layin' there, but I guarantee it couldn't have been that long or they'd of rolled you over the edge for makin' a scene—and then Bryce and Lucien show up, takin' you into his arms and spiritin' you back to the Seven. He missed his meetin', he didn't sign.” She nodded emphatically, “I think he's missin' a bean or two upstairs as well. I think he knows you—or knew you—and he just don't remember where.”
I frowned slightly, “I was almost convinced that I was a planted spy by that company, that I was sent here as some kind of sleeper agent.”
Addy chuckled. “Some secret agent you are, sleepin' in my bed, takin' tea with me and mother out on the veranda, playin' hide-and-seek with Savannah.” She rolled her eyes in a wide dramatic arc. “Oh, we are all doomed for sure.”
“What makes you say Bryce knew me and now doesn't remember?”
She shrugged, her face blushing slightly, or maybe it was a wave of heat that made its way against the fountain spray from across the orchards. “The way I heard him talk about you, the way he looks at you—and it ain't the way a man would look at a woman just because his first glimpse was her in her birthday suit. Shoot fire, Alice, I know he's scratchin' his head tryin' to figure out why it was he put himself in so much danger over you.”
“Danger?” My eyes widened.
“Momma said the site in the Atlantic was of prime military importance to the Confed'racy, some kind of end-all to war, hunger and atrocities. He's not just in danger from Daddy's belt. He's in deep trouble if the Yankees take that from us and we all have to explain why—and how—we let it go.” She shrugged as if her next statement didn't mean anything more than its words. “The Landrys could be bankrupted, cast out of the circles of society. We could lose everything—might even be thrown in prison.”
I didn't think my eyes could grow wider. “Please tell me you're still kidding.”
Addy shrugged one shoulder. Her smile was thin. “Wish I was.” Then she turned to me and touched my shoulder. “I have every confidence Daddy and Bryce can fix it, but don't you think it's odd that he'd forget his duty?”
My eyes drifted back to the cobblestones. I didn't even know Bryce before yesterday. I couldn't vouch for his character one way or the other.
“There's somethin' bigger at work here, Alice. I can feel it in my bones. And I think you'd both been together before it all started and now someone—or somethin'—has separated you.”
I thought again about the pale man and woman with the silver hair, the strangers with the deep set dark eyes who taunted me and marked me with a brand. Had they done the same to Bryce?
“And it's obvious you have a thing for each other,” Addy smiled, her serious veil lifting.
I looked at her. "Addy, please, I do not have a thing for your brother."
She picked a loose piece of mortar from the fountain wall and tossed it over her shoulder between us. I heard the plunk and looked at her. I shrugged.
Her expression turned sinister. She wiggled her eyebrows. "What if—in addition to all I just revealed—I told you a secret."
"About Bryce?"
She nodded and leaned close, cupping her hand around my ear and whispering loud enough to be heard over the sputtering shush of the fountain behind us. She said, "Bryce ain't too keen on Lady McFerran."
I pulled back and frowned at her. She motioned my ear back to her hand.
"Sure, he's got a thing for redheaded Irishers like you, but she's more about family and politics than anything else—and I mean family like business family, not like the makin' babies kind."
I don't know why, but I felt my heartbeat at that moment. I pulled back again and said, "It's arranged?"
"Contract Marriage they call it, all set up by Daddy and Miss McFerran herself. She's rich, ya know."
I smirked and blew out a puff of air that was almost a laugh. "No."
She nodded and played like she didn't catch my sarcasm. "Daddy's hopin' to set up Landry & McFerran, the first Yankee-style corporation this side o' the Mason-Dixon. That contract deal in New Yorke with Thorne & Wolfe was to start it."
&
nbsp; I frowned, pondering that. "Why would he need to have Bryce married to Lydia in order for that to work? Why couldn't he just pen a merger or something?"
Addy shrugged and jutted out her lower lip as she commenced to picking out another mortar rock. "There's some kind of give'n'take there. I ain't sure, really. All's I know is that a lady who marries a gentleman who part-owns a corporation who is married to a lady who is a lady who owns a corporation.... That's even better than a lady without marryin' into a family with. Get me?"
I chuckled. "Ok, so it is an arranged marriage and it's all about the corporate politics then."
She nodded and tossed a mortar chip, this time in front of us. I watched it skitter across the cobblestones before she answered. "Bryce loved her at first—or at least loved the idea; a spicy redheaded Irisher with lots o' money to give him lots o' babies, but she put up a wall right away, started callin' the shots."
"What do you mean?"
"She had demands about their relationship from the git-go." Addy shrugged and picked at the wall again. "He can only kiss her when she indicates it's okay to do so, they can't have... ya know, relations ...until after their married, that kinda stuff." She lifted her hands and let them drop to her lap, “Which I think is the curiously dumb part. I mean who would buy a horse without givin' it a ride first?”
My gaze fell to the cobblestones and traced a crazy maze line up the long drive. I wondered how long she'd been having the affair, and I wondered why—if Lydia and Clayton loved each other—they weren't the ones arranged.
I decided to test it. "Um... But why Bryce?"
Addy looked at me as if she could read the script in my mind. "Ya mean why Bryce and not that starched, uppity excuse for an officer Clayton?"
I nodded.
"Because Bryce, though only a captain, is better placed than Clay. He's already been groomed for homeland business and heir to Landry Holdings. Clayton is a career soldier, a colonel in the C.A.F. slated for general and a possible Cabinet seat.” She waved her hand dismissing it all. “It's a gentleman's club despite the power of the women behind them, but they wouldn't be anythin' if not for Miss McFerran.”
