Made of Darkness

by Erica M Kim

  “I’m all yours for questioning. But only if I get to ask you one back.”

  “That’s not fair! You already got your fair share in.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you three freebies.”

  “Fine.” I roll my eyes at him. “Do you live in Los Angeles?”

  “I live in Malibu.” Fancy.

  “Are you from here?” I continue.

  “I’m from Ohio. Moved here to go to college, never left.”

  “Where did you go to school?”

  “USC.”

  “I guess we’re sworn enemies then. I don’t know if I can acquaint myself with anyone from the University of Spoiled Children,” I say with a haughty tone, though a smile is plastered on my face.

  “Ouch. UCLA huh? Just so you know, I got a full scholarship to go to USC, which by the way, UCLA didn’t offer, so that’s why I went there. I am far from spoiled,” he says mock-defensively. “Your three turns are up.” A victorious look takes over his face.

  “What makes you happy, Lunis?” Again, I’m floored by the directness of his questions. Are all dates like this? Are we even on a date?

  Blondie returns with our food and the two pints of beer. I again appreciate her timing as it helps me regain my footing in this foreign landscape. The smell of the food is enticing and comforting.

  “You like asking tough questions, don’t you?”

  “Is it a tough question?” He looks like he is genuinely perplexed. “I suppose so, if you don’t know the answer.”

  “Hmm . . .” I pause to think as I chew on a bacon-wrapped fig. The saltiness of the bacon perfectly complements the succulent sweetness of the fig. I honestly don't think I have ever thought about this question before. But I appreciate Lio’s directness.

  “Simple things make me happy. Ice cream on a hot day. The smell of the ocean breeze. Good books. Running along the ocean. Chocolate desserts. Love stories. Routines.” Well-made guns. Sharp knives. A good kill. Of course, I don’t say those other things. Lio looks at me and genuinely smiles as if he’s pleased with my answers. Good thing he can’t hear the unsaid answers.

  “What about you, Lio?”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I’m a simple man myself. I love good food and good books. Going to the beach, soaking up the sun. I love to travel, hike, explore, and discover new places. I love music.” He smiles at me, and again, I’m fixated on his face. His eyes are so blue and sincere that I get lost in the depth of them as if I were looking into the bottom of a crystal-blue lagoon. I’m ready to dive in.

  “Do you have a dog?”

  “No, I don’t actually.” For some reason, I feel oddly ashamed to admit this. But I honestly don’t think I can take care of a dog. I barely get by taking care of myself. Thinking of an animal being utterly dependent on me freaks me out. “I do occasionally board some of my client’s dogs, though,” I add quickly.

  “Where is your company located?”

  “Greece.” This fact surprises me. Greece? How the hell does he live in Malibu if his company is in Greece?

  “How does that work?” My mouth quickly follows my thoughts.

  “Uh-uh.” He shakes his head. “My turn first before I answer that,” he chides me with a grin rendering me powerless again. Damn, how does he do that?

  “Fine. Go!” I answer exasperatedly, waving my hand around. I realize that I sound like I’m talking to someone I’ve known for years, not someone I just met. It must be the beer talking. As if on cue, the third round appears at the table, brought by another woman, not Blondie. I guess she gave up on her quest.

  “Where do you live, Lunis?” His voice rolls this question out like velvet, and I feel as if he’s asking me something much more private.

  “Santa Monica.” My voice is breathy and barely audible.

  “To answer your question, I fly back and forth to Greece occasionally, but I am mostly able to run the business remotely. I have trustworthy employees that know what they are doing. My family has been in business for almost a century. The business can more or less run itself with the board of directors in place.”

  So, he makes a shit ton of money without having to do too much.

  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t work hard.” Shit. He’s reading my damn mind! “I believe that every individual holds the strings of their destiny in their hands. You have the power to be the master puppeteer of your life. I detest people who act as if they have no control over their lives, like they were dealt a hand of cards without a choice. That’s rarely true.” As he says these words, his eyes become resolute and almost hardened, and his voice reflects true conviction and passion. I stare at him in awe and wonder. “I apologize. I digress,” he adds.

  “No, I agree, actually. I believe that most people don’t realize their full potential and waste away their lives.”

  “Precisely.” Then he visibly relaxes again as he sips his drink. I suddenly feel fuzzy from the alcohol, and excuse myself to use the restroom.

  On the way to the restroom, I notice that the bar is buzzing with conversation, nearly packed with happy hour attendees. How much time has gone by?

  The restroom is even more extravagant than the rest of the bar. Nearly everything is gold. Not real gold, but still makes an impression. A fresh bouquet of red roses sits in an ornate porcelain vase on a stand.

  Once I’m in the stall, I put my head in my hands. What am I doing? I am completely entranced in this man’s company. I swoon every time he smiles, and I hang onto his every word as if he is preaching the gospel. I’m almost ashamed of my physical and emotional response to Lio. Almost. I’ve never in my life been this affected by someone. And to think, I’ve only known him for a couple of hours!

  Deep down, I know the loneliness that I’ve long embraced has also begun to haunt me. Just the mere fact that I’m able to connect with someone through conversation sparks excitement and joy in me. I’ve been alone for so long.

  Perhaps once I get to know him better, this will all fade. Yes, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I just need to get to know him, and his true persona will rear its ugly head. Then I will undoubtedly push him away.

  Exiting the stall, I feel better once I’ve come to this resolve. There’s a reason I live most of my life in solitude. Not only because of what I turn into under the full moon, but also because most people are honestly annoying and can’t be trusted. The rational side of me tries desperately to extinguish the flickering flames of emotions that Lio is kindling.

  After splashing some water carefully on my face, I feel better, and I’m ready to face Lio again. The click-clack sound of stilettos approaches the bathroom. A pair of rather scantily clad, loud, college-aged girls enter. One of them, with platinum-blonde hair and a short, cobalt-blue dress, seems rather intoxicated, using her friend as a crutch as she tumbles into the now crowded restroom.

  “Oh my god. Did you see that guy in the corner table?” My interest suddenly piques.

  “Gray T-shirt and brown hair?” her darker-haired friend inquires.

  “Yes! He is sooooooo hot. Did you see him? I think he’s there by himself!” I act as if I’m primping my hair just so I can stay a couple of minutes longer. I’m intrigued that Lio has the same effect on other women, and at the same time, I feel fiercely proud and possessive. He’s with me, bitches! I suppressed a smile.

  “Should I go talk to him?” platinum asks. Oh, hell no.

  “You should. If you don’t, I will. He is sexy.”

  “No! I claim him first, but you can share with me.”

  I quickly make my exit, not wanting to hear more of that conversation. At the table, I find round number who-knows-how-many waiting for me, foam bubbling over the edge. Emboldened by the liquid courage and perhaps the drunken conversation I overheard, I sit down, my leg ever so slightly brushing against Lio’s. Again, I feel an electric current travel up my legs, and I suppress a shudder from taking over my body. Whoa. I have to be careful about doing that. Lio’s face also looks momentarily shocked,
and then a smile takes over his lovely face.

  “I ordered something for you; I hope you don’t mind. I thought you might want to try something different.”

  “No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” Normally, this would bother my control-freak tendency immensely, but I somehow trust Lio’s taste. I take a sip of the cloudy amber liquid. Hefeweizen. It’s delicious.

  “Yum,” I say with a smile.

  “It’s good, huh?” Lio says as he sips his own. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the restroom girl and her friend. Their gazes are looking around the room, probing for Lio. As if an involuntary response, my hand reaches out for Lio’s and grasps his hand boldly to get his attention. How did I just lose control of my own hand?

  A small gasp escapes my mouth. My hand is suddenly on fire; a charged energy tingles every single nerve in contact with Lio. There is no more sound in the room, and all I feel is my hand touching Lio’s. Nothing else matters. I let go out of fear, and the room orbits around Lio.

  All I can do is smile stupidly to stop myself from passing out on the table. Lio's eyes zero in on my retreating hand, inspecting it before it’s out of sight.

  “How did you get so many scars on your hand?” Ah, shit! My hands are evidence of the not-so-lady-like life I live. Nasty battle scars adorn my knuckles and fingers.

  “Some are from dogs who don’t like to be washed. Others are from boxing, one of my favorite ways to unwind from stress.” I respond smoothly with a half-truth. I decide to change the subject quickly. “Are you glad you came into the shop today?” Lio’s face lights up in surprise at the direct question.

  “Yes, I really am, Lunis. In fact, I’d like to do this again. Soon.” He seriously gazes into my eyes. He doesn’t waste any time beating around the bush, as usual.

  “Me too,” I whisper. My subconscious is kicking me in the head. I peek at the clock on my phone to distract myself and notice that it’s already nearly seven thirty.

  “What time is it?” Lio asks.

  “It’s almost seven thirty!” I’m still in shock that time flew by so quickly.

  “Oh, shit, I gotta go. Chase is going to be pissed. It’s way past his dinner time. Tonight was great. I’d like to take you on another date, Lunis.”

  “Was this a date?”

  “Was it not?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. I’ve never been on a date, so I’m not quite sure what it entails.

  “Quite high maintenance, aren’t we? Doesn’t count as a date unless a Michelin rated restaurant is involved?” Lio smiles as he chides me. I’m mortified.

  “That’s not what I meant!” I can’t bring myself to admit that I’ve never been on a date, though. That would be even more mortifying.

  “I know. I’m just teasing you,” he says, grinning. “I want to take you on a proper date, will you allow me that?” My breath catches in my throat. Will I allow him? It seems as if the world is standing still, waiting for my answer with bated breath. Every working brain cell is shouting no! at me, and my fluttering heart is screaming yes!

  “Yes,” I blurt out. Heart: 1, Brain: 0.

  After a small squabble over who would pay for the tab, which I eventually forfeit, Lio and I are standing outside in the cool weather. The Promenade is buzzing with energy, filled with people celebrating the start of the weekend.

  “I’ll walk you to your car. Where did you park?”

  “Just a few blocks away from here.” We walk in silence, and my head is spinning with anxiety about agreeing to go on another date with this man.

  “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I take in a deep breath to calm my nerves. As I do so, I suddenly trip over a crack in the sidewalk and find my arms flailing, trying to regain balance. It’s too late, and I prep myself to hit the ground when I feel strong arms clasp my waist.

  “Whoa, there! I don’t think you’re good to drive!” Lio says as he steadies me. I’m momentarily too embarrassed to respond, and then I realize that Lio’s hands are still around my waist, and I freeze. My whole body is on fire, tingling with his touch. Lio suddenly releases me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, voice filled with worry.

  “Er . . . yeah. Thanks. Sorry,” I stammer as I turn around to look at his blue eyes. They blaze with concern and something else. Maybe desire. I am lost in his gaze, and the world pauses as we look at each other. It must be only a couple of seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

  “I can walk from here, I think. Thanks, Lio. Tonight was . . . great,” I say to break the rising tension between us. I need to get away immediately. My brain has officially sounded the alarm, and I’m listening! I turn around and bolt out of there, sprinting down the sidewalk like a child. I don’t care what I look like; I just need to get away before I make a bigger fool of myself in front of this man. Once I feel like I’ve made good distance, I risk turning around to steal one last glance at him, and I see him standing in the exact place I left him with a smirk on his face. I pick up my speed and run as if my life is in danger. I think it might be.

  9

  I float on cloud nine on my ride home, and I’m pretty positive my face has a stupid grin the entire time. Inside the security of my apartment, I sit down at the dining table, the fluorescent lights flickering brightly above me. My mind is still reeling from what happened today. It is the first time in a very long time that I told anyone so much about myself. And I couldn’t help it. I could spend the entire evening talking with Lio.

  I need to get a grip. I cannot let anyone into my life. I know far too well how that will end. The truth is, Lio can’t deal with who I am. No one can. The full moon is around the corner, and I need to start focusing on my assignment. Speaking of which, I dig through my purse and drag out the manila folder. I’m hoping that throwing myself into work will help keep my mind off the gorgeous man I met today.

  It works, and the details of the assignment clear my mind.

  At an initial glance, Vincent Moreno seems like a proper and even charming man. On paper, he owns Moreno Scrap Metal, which operates out of Long Beach. After a quick Google search on his company, it looks like a legit business that exports metal.

  But as I read into Markus’s meticulous file, the layers peel back, and I learn that Vincent has been in the illicit drug business for over fifteen years. He started with smuggling marijuana across the Mexican border and moved onto trafficking cocaine from Colombia and Mexico in the past ten years. And in that time, he’s worked himself up to be one of the biggest drug lords in this country. My mouth hangs open as I read the numbers that estimate just how much drugs he has trafficked. I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a target with this much power. For all I know, the DEA could already be watching this man’s every move. My jaws clench tightly, and I crick my neck from the strain. Holy shit.

  Vincent employs more than a hundred soldiers to run his business. The security around him will be a nearly impossible force to get through.

  The paperwork reveals that Vincent has a freaky side to him, and he frequents an underground sex club downtown called Crux. I’ve never heard of it, but after looking at pictures that Markus included in the file, it doesn’t look like the type of place your average Jane or John would frequent. Chains and whips adorn the guests shown in the photos. Facepalm. Due to the constant security around Vincent, the only sure way to get near him is to be invited. Markus notes that Vincent has a preference for dark-haired, submissive women. And while he may be charming, Markus’s notes warn me that it’s all a game of cat and mouse. Well, two can play at that. Two weeks from now, I’ll be required to seduce him at the club, and take him home. It’s almost too easy.

  That night I have a vivid dream. I’m hiking up a mountain that overlooks a massive lake at its base. It is twilight, and the moon is beckoning me to come closer. The wind gently blows around my face, and the smell of pine fills my senses. I’m on a steady trek, a mission to reach the pinnacle.

  Behind me, the howl of a wolf fills
the air, and I quicken my pace. My breathing becomes harsher as my lungs struggle to keep up. Before I know it, the trees are rushing past me as I jump over rocks. Just as the growling gets closer, and sheer panic sets in, a heavenly voice resounds in the air.

  “My child, you have nothing to fear, for you are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.” The voice comes from above me, next to me, and below me. It is everywhere.

  Just then, the gray wolf leaps onto me, and a blinding light emanates from my body, and I’m startled awake. Shallow breaths fill my lungs as my heart pounds in my chest. My eyes open to see the crescent moon eerily gleaming through a break in my curtains straight onto my face.

  I have never had a dream like that. The mystical voice, the large gray wolf, all of the pine trees—it all felt so vivid that I am positive that the place that I visited in my dream is real. Glancing at the clock, it’s 3:01 a.m. My mouth is parched from the rough breathing, and I grab the glass of water nearby the bed and shakily gulp it down.

  My heart is still hammering when I lay back down. Sleep evades me, and instead, I sit curled up in the corner of my bed, knowing that I do not have a single person in the world to call when I need comfort.

  10

  Sleep must have found me at some point because I’m startled awake by the sound of the alarm. I had watched the sunrise and listened to the early-morning birds announce dawn’s arrival, which means I only got a couple of hours of sleep. Damn. I’m tempted to have Ramon work the shop by himself, but I know we have a hectic schedule of eleven dogs to groom today. It would be cruel to leave him to man the shop alone.

  I let myself luxuriate and procrastinate in bed for another twenty minutes before sluggishly rolling out. I hate being tired. Even more than I hate being hungry. It’s going to be a long, long day.

  Despite my exhaustion, I don’t skimp out on breakfast. Saturday breakfast is French toast with blueberries and whipped cream with a side of bacon. The crackle of sizzling bacon is the only sound in the apartment, and it’s unnervingly lonesome as my mind replays the night’s dream over and over again. I look for a feel-good playlist on my phone, and it starts to blast on the home speaker system, and my hips start swaying to the rhythm.