“I know,” I said, reflexively, wiping my own eyes.
A thirties-something couple came into the shop and sauntered up to the register.
“I’ll take care of them,” Eli said, scratching his head and slipping past Alexis to welcome the happy couple.
Alexis came around the bar and enveloped me in an awkward hug since she didn’t wait for me to step down from the stool. “I’m just so relieved you weren’t murdered or something,” she cried into my arm.
“Me too; that would have sucked,” I said, trying to elicit a smile, but settling for a snort.
When Alexis finally let me go, she hopped up on the stool next to me. “Did you at least get to finally meet him?”
I shook my head. “Another dead end.”
That immediately shut down any follow-up questions about my time away. “Did you say you passed your GED?” Alexis drummed her fingers on the granite countertop.
I nodded, feeling guiltier about that than leaving.
“Wow… so you’re like… already gone,” she said, sounding morose.
“Yeah,” I said.
“How long were you expecting to be away?”
“I didn’t know.”
“What you’re saying is, you didn’t know if you were even going to come back.” Alexis slipped off the stool and made her way around the counter.
“I always would have come back,” I insisted.
More patrons were coming in now, so Alexis took over at the register to keep Eli from running back and forth from the bar. It seemed she didn’t even want to look at me. When she finished with the line, she went to help Eli catch up on drinks.
I was just about to leave when she came back to where I was sitting, a paper cup in hand, which she placed before me on the counter.
“Your white mocha,” she said, her expression still weighed down by sadness.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing it and taking a sip. I savored the wonderful sweetness. She didn’t have to say to go, but that was certainly what the paper cup implied.
40
Matthew
I reached the Los Angeles consulate office below the B.A.D. Bookstore at ten minutes before ten. Jeremy was scrolling through his cellphone when I entered and told me to take a seat. The Los Angeles consul, Gideon Brent, hadn’t arrived yet, so I was forced to wait.
My eyes kept gravitating to the framed picture of the crow flying through the full moon, with the Latin phrase in calligraphy along the bottom.
A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow.
We were supposed to be loyal to our kind above all else, but I knew as well as anyone that it was never the case.
I heard the rumbling of the bookcases overhead and knew Gideon was on his way. The thumping of his heavy footsteps down the stairs was even louder. His large frame took up the entire staircase, practically forcing him to squeeze out of it and spill into the waiting room. He was carrying a briefcase in one hand and a large coffee in the other.
“Mr. Mercer!” he boomed, his shark-tooth grin widely stretching across his face. “You are prompt.”
“I make it a point to be,” I said, rising from the sagging couch.
He clapped a hand on my back. “Come to my office. We have important matters to discuss.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I said, following him in, closing the door, and claiming the chair I’d sat in the last time.
“Please close the—oh, you already did.” Gideon hung his suit coat on a wall hook, then fell into his leather desk chair, rocking back and noisily straining the mechanical components fighting to hold it together.
“So, what has the Order decided?” I asked.
“Not one for small talk, are you?” Gideon said, then took a sip from his coffee. “Sorry, I didn’t bring an extra one.”
“I don’t drink coffee,” I said, flatly.
“Neither do I,” he responded with a wink. “Okay, okay. Down to business. I presented your case to the Order like I said I would. And again like I said, they were intrigued to learn about your connection with the True North Society—a founding member at that. I think they were impressed—though they wouldn’t explicitly say such a thing.” He took another sip of what I now suspected to be blood in the paper coffee cup. “The Order is willing to make you a proposal.”
“Okay. Great. What is it?”
“That’s the thing—it’s not for me to propose,” Gideon said, sitting up straighter in his chair, keeping it from rocking so far back. “You have been invited to Noctem City.” Gideon reached into a desk drawer and revealed a golden coin about the size of a silver dollar. He flipped it across the desk, expecting me to snatch it out of the air. “You will have the opportunity to stand before the Order, at which time they will present their proposal.”
The glistening coin had a profile of a royal face on the front, with a curved Latin inscription along the bottom: “Imperium in imperio.”
An empire within an empire.
The back of the coin had a picture of what looked to be a European castle in the clouds. I’d heard of Noctem City—the legendary Vampire Order capital—but never been there. I’d never even seen a picture of it other than artist interpretations. It was as elusive as the Society’s headquarters, which had been part of my inspiration.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, flipping the coin between my fingers.
“Present it to your driver,” Gideon said, taking another sip from his cup, then opening his laptop. “I will give you an address, with a date and time, and you will give it to your driver.”
“How will I recognize him?”
“You won’t. He—or she—will recognize you.” He wrote the information onto an orange Post-it, then handed it to me.
“Leadville, Colorado?” I asked, scanning the information.
“It’s only the gateway to Noctem City. Can I assume this is your first time?”
I nodded, stuffing the paper and coin into my pocket.
“Very exciting,” Gideon chuckled. “You should be happy, Mr. Mercer. This is a good news day. The Order is eager to meet you.”
41
Fiona
Nearly a week passed before I saw Matthew next. He’d called me several days earlier, telling me the date and time of initiation had been set. It had been a short conversation, neither one of us knowing quite what to say outside of an official Society capacity. I didn’t demand an apology but silently expected to receive one. It didn’t come. When we hung up, I didn’t know what we were to each other anymore.
I wished we could go back to the short time I’d spent in his apartment. It had felt like we were a real couple, even if only for a moment. Now it felt like talking with someone after a one-night stand, neither one knowing how to behave.
But I tried to focus on the good news the call brought—that my candidacy was over. I was going to be initiated into the True North Society. It was such a wonderful culmination of everything I’d been through the past few months; my life had become so drastically different, it was almost hard to believe what a short span of time had passed. And during that period, I’d also met my father, an experience that had been frustrating, disturbing, and comforting all at the same time.
I so wanted to tell someone about my acceptance—it was more exciting to me than any college acceptance letter—but there was really no one I could tell. I ended up sharing it with Becca, and she was happy for me, but only understood so much.
It was hard adjusting back to real life without school or a job. Mom didn’t know about the GED, so I still had to act like I was going to school each morning. I didn’t feel right about hanging out at Hot Coffee all the time, though I did stop in there one more time during the week, and that time Candace had also been working. Since word had already spread that I was back, she didn’t harp on at me as much as I’d been afraid of.
While I was there, Mallory had even stopped in and we shared a look the others didn’t notice. Even though there were no displays of new
mutual respect—and maybe even some friendship—she remained relatively courteous to the three of us—just enough not to arouse suspicion things had changed. Once she was gone, Candace even mentioned their theory that Mallory had been abducted along with me. I had to laugh at that.
Matthew was supposed to pick me up at 7 p.m. Friday night, for which I’d meet him in the parking lot. I was shaking with nervous excitement when it was time to leave, so I told Mom that Alexis was already waiting outside as I rushed to give her a kiss on the cheek and bolted out the door.
“Be safe!” she called after me before the door fully closed.
As I followed the path from my front door, I noticed a boy sitting on the curb, slouched forward on his knees. It took me a moment to realize it was Sean. He’d texted me multiple times since I’d gotten home, but I didn’t return any of the messages. I contemplated going back inside, but instead simply slowed my pace.
At the sound of someone approaching, he twisted around and tried to smile. “Fiona,” he said.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, though my focus was on the cars in the parking lot, wondering if Matthew was already there. I didn’t immediately spot the Land Rover.
“Working up the courage to knock on your door,” he said, turning back to face the lot.
I stopped next to him, still scanning the parked cars. “How long have you been here?”
“I dunno. Twenty—thirty minutes?” He sounded so defeated and sad.
I sighed and took a seat on the curb next to him. “Why?”
It was obvious he wanted to look at me, but couldn’t seem to do it, his gaze continually dropping to between his knees. “I’ve needed to talk to you ever since you came home.”
“Okay; then talk.” My words probably came out colder than I’d intended them to, but with Matthew arriving any moment, I needed him to get to the point.
“I heard you didn’t find your father,” he said.
“That’s right.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much that would have meant to you.”
“Everyone’s told me to manage my expectations, so that’s what I’ve done. It’s okay. I’m okay,” I said with a shrug. I could still feel myself shaking from the anticipation of tonight’s event, so I hugged my elbows, trying to steady myself.
“Are you cold? You’re shaking like crazy.” Sean looked like he was considering putting an arm around me but thankfully didn’t act on his instinct.
“No. I’m fine,” I insisted, hugging myself tighter, though it wasn’t working. “So, why are you here?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past few months, and—and my life just hasn’t been the same without you. I should’ve never given up on you because of your need to find your father. I’ve known that for a long time. We were a team and I know I let you down. But I want you to know I’m all in. I love you more than anything and I’ll help you search for him until the world ends.”
His choice of words was eerie. He had no idea how soon the world was going to end. I’d barely had a chance to wrap my head around that startling information myself.
“Is this because I left without telling anyone?” I asked.
“No,” he answered. “I’d planned to say this before I even knew you were gone. Your mother told me you were gone when I’d come to say exactly this. I don’t want to go another day without you. I know I’ve been an asshole, but I’ll do anything to make up for that.” He paused, taking in a nervous breath. “I’ve turned down NYU since I know you want to stay local. I want to—”
“You did what?” I exclaimed, not believing what I was hearing. “That was your dream.”
“You are my dream, Fiona. I know we’re meant to be together.”
“No, no, no… you shouldn’t have done that,” I said, shaking my head.
His gaze was on me now, his eyes more hopeful despite my verbal protests. Sean shifted his body toward me and grabbed one of my hands.
“I don’t expect everything to be forgiven all at once,” he said, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. “But I’m here to stay and I’m not going to let you go.”
I didn’t know what to say. I glanced out into the parking lot, expecting to see a Land Rover pulling up, but it was still empty of any moving vehicles.
“This is a lot to take in,” I said.
“We have time. I’m not going to rush you.”
I was considering a response when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Thinking Matthew was providing me with an update as to why he was late, I took my hand back and retrieved my phone.
It was a Facebook Messenger notification from… Abigail
Hi, Fiona. This is Abigail. I found your picture of my parents outside. It took me a while to track you down, then I didn’t know if I should message you. But here I am. I’d like to talk.
“Fiona, what’s wrong?” Sean asked. “Who’s that?”
The phone was shaking uncontrollably in my hand. Why was all this happening now? I could only survive being blindsided so many times in the same day.
“It’s… umm… nothing,” I said.
“Let me see.” Sean reached for my phone, but I quickly stuffed it back into my pocket. I could only imagine what my face looked like in that moment. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“That guy… Matthew.”
“No,” I scoffed, sounding offended, then heard the engine of an approaching vehicle and cringed. No; that’s Matthew.
I peered up and saw the familiar dark Land Rover coming around the bend of the parking lot. Sean followed my gaze.
I stood up. “I’m sorry, Sean. I really am.”
He didn’t move as the Land Rover came to a halt before us. When I opened the door, I knew Sean got a glimpse of Matthew behind the wheel. I didn’t glance back but watched him through the tinted window as we drove away—at him staring daggers at me.
42
Fiona
“He doesn’t seem to like me much,” was the first thing Matthew said as we exited the lot.
“He’s no longer going away to college in New York, so he can be close to me,” I said, my attention still glued to the world outside my window.
“Is that a good thing?”
“I’m not exactly sure what you want me to say to that.”
“I don’t want you to feel obligated to say anything, just to voice however you honestly feel,” he said.
“I honestly don’t know how I feel anymore—about so many things.”
Matthew didn’t press, and we drove in silence most of the way to the North Society compound. He guided me up a few floors, to an office with a familiar name on the wall plate.
Roland Damascus.
Matthew swiped the keycard and held the door open for me to enter. The picture of Abigail and me was no longer on the desk, and there was an elegant, familiar red dress hanging from the hook on the wall. It wasn’t the same dress as from the branding ceremony, either successfully dry-cleaned or replaced in kind. It was a different red dress, though I couldn’t be positive the shade of red was any different but it was just as gorgeous and awe-inspiring. A shoebox was set on the floor beneath it, same as before.
“If you don’t get blood on this one, you’ll be able to keep it,” Matthew said, his lips curling into a self-satisfied grin.
“If you don’t cut me open, then I won’t get blood on the dress,” I retorted. The banter felt good and made me momentarily forget where we stood with each other.
“No daggers in this ritual.” He walked over to the couch and sat down kitty-corner, crossing his legs.
I wasn’t totally comforted by that statement, but I obediently grabbed the dress from the hook and headed into the en suite.
The dress fitted just as perfectly as the last, and I hadn’t missed the fact that this one wasn’t off the shoulder but had short lacy sleeves—just enough to conceal my scarred shoulder. Anticipating a formal ceremony, I’d applied adequate makeup this time,
as well as ensuring my purse was well stocked for touchups. I’d also already been wearing the white-gold compass pendant under my shirt; now, it could clearly be seen at the low neckline of the dress, with its diamond accents and the N of rubies.
I combed my fingers through my hair, then applied a little extra cherry lip gloss before joining Matthew in my father’s old office. I flung my casual clothes and purse over the closer arm of the couch and set my sneakers beside the shoebox.
“You look amazing,” Matthew said, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Was it you who made sure it had sleeves?”
“I may have put in the request.” Matthew shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
“Thank you,” I said, my hands still fidgety, partly from the ceremony about to begin, but equally from being alone in a room with him again. The first time we’d been on our own in a room together after finding out he was a vampire, was in this very office. And now I felt no more comfortable around him than I did then.
Matthew stood and fixed the creases on his dress slacks. He was attired more formally than I was used to seeing him—shirt tucked in, just missing a tie. “Well, we don’t want to keep them waiting,” he said.
I set the shoebox on the coffee table, so I could sit on the couch to put on the heels. Matthew grabbed the first silver heel from my hand, dropped to his knees, and slipped it on my foot himself, then gingerly buckled the strap around my ankle. He repeated the process with my left foot.
The feel of his cool hands on me sent shivers up my legs and sent my heart racing just a little faster. I was nearly upset how powerful his effect on me was, with such simple touches.
He silently offered a hand to help me to my feet and I automatically took it—my ambivalent mind not even having a say. However, he let my hand go once I was upright, then started for the door.
“What will become of this office since my father… well, because of his condition?” I asked as Matthew held open the door.
Angeles Underground Page 19
