by Laura Legend
Cass, though, had been here for almost two hours and she hadn’t seen anyone like the person she’d been instructed to look for.
“Okay,” Maya had said, “you will know him when you see him. Look for a thin man with short salt-and-pepper hair and a longer beard. Mediterranean. Looks like he is somewhere between the ages of fifty and one thousand and fifty, and who simultaneously looks like he is both homeless and probably owns half of Manhattan.”
Cass had pressed her for more details, but Maya had sworn this would be enough.
“You’ll know him when you see him,” she’d repeated.
Now, with Zach and Maya surveilling the patrons inside the building, Cass was sitting on the steps of the library in the morning sun.
If she’d dared to close her eyes, she could have felt the books inside calling to her. All her life, she’d dreamed of landing at JFK, jumping in a cab, and yelling to the driver, “To the library! And step on it!” Now she was here and she hadn’t even been inside to see the library’s cavernous reading room. Still, she had to admit that, all and all, people-watching on the steps of a library was easily among her favorite chores in many, many months.
To keep herself engaged, she returned again to the game that her mother had taught her to play as a child. As each person passed, Cass guessed their astrological sign. From the beginning, she’d been unerringly good at the game. Until recently, she hadn’t realized why. She hadn’t know that her powers as a seer had anything to do with it. Though, to be fair, until she’d met Richard, she hadn’t known she had any such powers.
The breeze was cool but the heat baked into the stone stairs by the morning sun felt delicious. Cass folded her arms and leaned against one of the library’s famous stone lions.
The cloud of worry in her head began to settle and she started to see people more clearly.
The blonde in her twenties in boots, yoga pants, and a wool cap was a Pisces. She’d just broken up with boyfriend of three years yesterday. She was enormously relieved.
The fellow in his fifties in a three-piece suit with his lunch in a brown paper bag was a Virgo. He came to the library every day during his lunch break. For thirty years now he’d been an accountant at a small firm his father had started. He liked to make the numbers add up.
The kid with headphones and an afro was an Aries. His girlfriend worked at the library and, to seem tough, he pretended that he hated reading. He loved reading.
The sweet, young-love vibe the kid carried with him set Cass to thinking about Zach. Despite the wedge of ice cold anger in the pit of her stomach, her whole body warmed at the thought of him. Or better, at the thought of them. Even sitting her on the steps of the library, she could almost smell him, almost feel his warm breath on her neck—wait, that was Zach’s warm breath on her neck!
He kissed her neck. She’d been so immersed in scanning the grounds that he hadn’t seen him coming.
“See anything?” Zach whispered from behind, slipping his arms around her waist and nibbling her ear.
Cass closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the feel of his body pressed against hers.
“Did you say something?” Cass asked, pressing him back against the base of the statue.
She opened her eyes to look at Zach but, instead, she caught sight of a thin, agile looking man in old blue jeans and thin black sweater. He was already past her and almost to the main entrance. Though she could only see him from the back, his stride gave off exactly the vibe she realized she was looking for: purposeful but unhurried.
“Zach,” Cass said, “I think we’ve got our man.”
“I know you’ve got your man,” Zach replied, still kissing her neck.
Cass gave him an elbow and pointed.
“Our man,” she said.
Zach looked up just in time to see the man pass through the library’s front door. It was enough.
“I think you’re right, Beautiful. Let’s go.”
They started up the stairs. Zach pulled out the burner phone Maya had given him and gave her a heads up. Once they were through the front door, though, they didn’t see any sign of the slight frame in the black sweater.
“Which way, Cass?”
Cass let her gut choose.
“This way,” she said, leading them toward the far end of the cavernous reading room.
She scanned the crowd as they went and found the kid from outside chatting up his girl. Cass pushed farther into the room.
“There,” she pointed. And again, just as Zach looked over, the man passed through a door marked STAFF ONLY.
“He’s running,” Zach said.
Cass snagged an armful of books from a cart and handed a couple to Zach. Hopefully they would look more official this way. Cass tried to walk faster without drawing any attention, but there wasn’t much she could do and it wasn’t enough to make up much ground.
Jones, she thought to herself, if this were a movie, it would absolutely be the slowest, quietest chase scene in the history of the world.
Maya appeared at the far end of the room. Zach waved for her to slip into the back from the opposite end.
“Just act like you belong,” Cass said as they passed through the STAFF ONLY door.
Zach put on his most studious look by contorting his face into a furrowed his brow and deep frown, miming adjusting a pair of invisible glasses.
“Asshole,” Cass whispered, trying not to laugh.
For brief a moment, they spotted the man again, just as he turned the corner of the hallway. Cass plopped her books down on a table and hurried after him. He exited the hallway and took a flight of stairs. Maya popped into view, coming from the far end. Breaking into a light jog, Cass and Zach followed him into the stairwell. Cass stopped and listened, shushing Zach. He’d gone up a flight of stairs. They heard the door above them bang shut. Cass took the stairs two at a time. Zach was right behind her and Maya was just on his heels.
Exiting the stairwell, they found themselves in another hallway that ran along the backside of the building. Halfway down the hallway, a window was open and the breeze was blowing through.
Cass ran to the window and looked out. It was two stories straight down to the street level.
The man was already at the end of the street when he stopped to buy a pretzel from a street vendor. He took a bite, looked back in their general direction, and gave an ambiguous smile.
Then he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
26
“DAMMIT!” CASS SAID as she swung one leg out over the window sill, ducked her head to clear the raised window pane, and dropped two stories to the ground, landing lightly on her feet.
Both Zach and Maya stared out the window after her.
“Let’s go!” Cass shouted up at them, “We’re going to lose him!”
Zach and May exchanged a glance. Zach, chivalrous as ever, was happy to let Maya go first.
“Fine,” Maya said, pulling off her heels. She climbed through the window, shoes in hand, used various hand holds to lower herself eight feet or so, and then dropped the remaining distance. She straightened up, brushed herself off, put her shoes back on, and started off at a brisk pace after the man.
Zach was still hesitating in the window, clearly weighing the odds that he was going to break an ankle from this height.
“Zach!” Cass called.
Zach swung both legs through the window and sat on the lip.
“Come on, big boy. I’ll catch you.”
Zach closed his eyes and shoved off the side of the building. As Cass watched, her eye burned and time slowed. He seemed to be falling forever. She took a step to the right and one step forward, positioning herself, and caught Zach in her arms. Her body sagged slowly to the earth under his weight, but within this extended moment her physical strength and control was concentrated, and she easily absorbed the shock. She kissed him on the forehead and set him lightly on his feet.
Time kicked back into gear. Maya was almost to the corner already.
/> “I thought you were joking,” Zach said, unsure what had just happened. “That was straight out of the Princess Bride. Where are our horses?”
“Um, thanks for comparing me to Andre the Giant,” Cass teased, already running after Maya and the man.
Zach was looking up at the window they’d jumped from, shaking his head.
“This way, Buttercup!” Cass shouted back at him.
They caught up with Maya just around the corner. She was stopped, scanning the street for their man. He was standing at the next intersection. He casually took another bite of his pretzel and tossed the last bit to a pigeon. He patiently waited for the light to change. When it did, he disappeared into the crowd of people heading north on the sidewalks of Midtown.
“What are we waiting for?” Cass asked, starting after him.
Maya fell in at her side, but slowed their pace. “The more important question is: what was he waiting for?”
They were walking fast enough to make up some ground, but not so fast that they were going to overtake him. Once they’d crossed the street themselves, they spotted him again, half a block ahead.
“Is he trying to get away?” Maya wondered out loud. “Is he waiting for us? Is he setting a trap for us?”
Unsure, they followed, but stayed at a distance. Every block or two they would lose track of him in the crowd and then, just when they feared they’d lost him, would catch sight of him again. He was going north on Sixth Avenue, headed straight for Central Park.
Once they hit they park, they continued weaving along the pedestrian paths, playing the same game. Hanging back, losing him for moment, then finding him again.
“He’s playing with us,” Maya said.
“Tell me more about him,” Cass prompted. “Tell me what we’re dealing with here.”
“Basically,” Maya began, “he used to be Richard. He used to be the most powerful and influential of the Turned. And, by extension, he was one of the most powerful people in the world. Though, of course, he had the advantage of being the first of us.”
They’d almost reached the reservoir at the north end of the park. They watched as the man entered the path that looped around the water and disappeared behind some trees.
“His name is Thomas. Or, at least, that’s what it was when I met him. Richard introduced us. Even then he was already grooming Richard to replace him—though, for the longest time, I could not understand why. It was not as if Thomas was ever going to die. Why would he want to prepare someone to take his place?”
They were on the loop around the reservoir. Across the water, they could see the man about a quarter turn ahead of them. He’d stopped to watch the ducks.
“When I met Thomas, he was already rarely seen. He had withdrawn from public view for decades, sending Richard as his representative whenever any business needed completing. And then, something changed. He discovered something. He left everything to Richard and disappeared, withdrew into solitude, and became a kind of hermit. These days, he is more ghost than vampire. If he does not want you to find him, you are not likely to.”
They were at the north end of the park, exiting into Harlem. Cass looked up and down the street, searching for any indication where he’d gone. Had they finally lost him for real?
“There,” Zach said, pointing straight ahead. “He’s at the Taco Truck.”
The man collected his order of tacos in two brown paper bags, crossed the street, and entered a crumbling apartment building.
Cass broke into a run. Zach and Maya followed. Now was not the time to lose him. Cass burst through the door and into the lobby. They could still hear him on the stairs, maybe two flights up. They sprinted up the stairs and out into a third floor hallway.
The hallway was empty, but Cass felt confident that this was where he’d exited. She worked her way down the hall, trailing her fingers across the wood of each apartment door, looking for some kind of sign.
At the end of the hall, she found it.
The last door on the left was open, as if it had been left open for them.
Cass leaned in, craning her neck to get a look around the corner and into the room.
Thomas was standing with his back to her, setting out paper napkins next to four paper plates. He’d placed two tacos on each plate.
He turned to face Cass and smiled.
“Please, come in,” he said. “Things must be truly desperate if Cassandra Jones needs my help.”
27
CASS, DESPITE HERSELF, smiled back. Thomas’s smile—together with the smell of cilantro from the still steaming street tacos—had disarmed her. She crept around the edge of the door, feeling embarrassed now rather than adversarial. Zach and Maya popped their heads in next.
“Please, please, you are welcome. Come and sit down.”
Thomas ushered Cass and Zach to their folding metal seats at the rickety table. But he stopped Maya, holding her by both shoulders at arm’s length.
“Let me have a look at you,” he said, closing his eyes.
Maya, uncharacteristically passive, waited.
He pressed his forehead against hers, then pulled her into a polite embrace.
“You look well,” he said, opening his eyes.
Maya swallowed whatever emotion had been creeping up inside of her.
“You, too” she said, taking her seat at the table.
Now that she’d had a closer look, Cass had to admit that Maya’s description had been pretty accurate. Thomas looked fifty-ish. He was fit but lean. His head was nearly shaved. His skin was dark, as if he spent his days shirtless in the Mediterranean sun. His salt and pepper beard was long. His face was creased and weathered. His accent was vaguely Greek.
As if he were Mr. Rogers, he took his time carefully removing his thin sweater and hung it in the closet. As far as Cass could see, it was the only thing hanging in there. He removed his shoes and placed them next to the door. Then he washed his hands, slowly and methodically, like a surgeon offering a prayer, and joined them at the table.
They all sat in silence waiting for him.
He leaned in close to his tacos and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent and holding it.
“I used my last ten dollar bill,” he said, “but I think this will be worth it.”
The studio apartment was spare. It contained only the rickety table they were sitting at, the four folding metal chairs, a mat on the floor with a light blanket folded neatly on top, a small bookshelf with a handful of books from the library, and a kettle on the ancient gas stove. The paint on the walls was chipped, but everything was clean. The window was open just a crack, letting in a cool breeze.
Seated, he reached out and took Cass’s hand, then Maya’s. He nodded toward Zach and they, in turn, took his hands. Thomas bowed his head. Cass kept expecting some kind of blessing to be pronounced on the food but they just sat in silence with their heads bowed. After about thirty seconds, she snuck a quizzical glance at Zach. He just shrugged. Then, without warning, Thomas clapped his hands together enthusiastically, eager to eat. Cass had the distinct feeling that she’d just woken up from a great night’s sleep. And, now, she was extraordinarily hungry.
“Thomas,” Maya began, “we need—”
Thomas interrupted her, raising a finger. “Let’s eat,” he said. He scooped up a taco, added a squeeze of lime and a dash of salt to the outside of the corn tortilla, and took a bite.
Zach shrugged again and dug in. He was clearly hungry, too.
Cass took a closer look at the two tacos on her plate. Both were al pastor, her favorite. The pineapples burst with flavor in her mouth. The pork was perfectly cooked, seasoned, and balanced by the onions and cilantro. The corn tortilla was freshly made.
This was easily the best taco she’d ever eaten.
Maya looked at the three of them as if they were from another planet. She picked at her taco suspiciously, leaned in for a smell, and took a small bite. That was all it took. She was sold.
Given her muscle mass, Cass
knew Maya must put down a significant amount of protein on a daily basis. She was glad to see that the woman didn’t live on protein shakes alone.
Zach opened his mouth, still half full, to say something gushing about the tacos. But, again, Thomas raised a finger and silenced him. They ate in silence for the next five or six minutes until nothing was left but spent wedges of lime.
Thomas stood up and collected their plates and napkins, then tucking them neatly into a nearly empty trash bag hanging from a hook in the kitchen. He wiped off the table with a rag, filled the kettle with water, and set it to boil.
“Please,” he said, gesturing to the floor. “Have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.”
They repaired from the table to the living room floor. Cass sat close to Zach, their arms intertwined. Maya sat next to them, showing an extraordinary amount of grace and poise for someone sitting on the floor in a tenement in a closely tailored dress.
Thomas joined them, perfectly at home on the floor, cross-legged.
“Thomas,” Maya began again, “we need—”
Again Thomas silenced her.
“Now,” he said, “it’s story time.”
His hands lay in his lap, one cupped inside of the other. His gaze was downcast, his eyes unfocused.
He raised one finger in the air.
“It all started with one,” he said, “and that one’s name was Judas.”
28
CASS FELT HER posture straighten of its own accord, her weight resting now on her sitting bones. Her lungs opened up. Her muscles relaxed. A small electrical fire traversed the length of her spine, from her tailbone to the base of her skull and lit up her brain. Her wandering eye came home and the clouds cleared. Everything in the room became sharply delineated. Nothing seemed like background. Everything was foreground. Everything showed itself on its own terms. The table, the window, the floor, the paint-chipped walls appeared with vivid clarity.
