by Leland Roys
“Maybe I don’t want to manipulate him anymore!” She felt her voice rise; this had to be perfect.
The old man smiled. “So it is done then. She is alive.”
“So now what? You kill her? Kill Alex? It’s just a game for you, I suppose. There was a time...” She stopped talking.
“Are you lonely, Rebecca? You must be. It has been 70 years now, am I right, since you left?”
“He forced me to be alone. It didn’t need to be this way.”
She wanted more than anything to kill him. She could. She was sure she could. She was faster than him. The plan had been in her head for more than 50 years. Every detail. Still, it was always the same. She didn’t do a thing. Killing him wouldn’t end it. It would only be the beginning of a greater evil. There would be a time; she would get her chance. Just not now. She was so close, closer than she had ever been.
“You had a choice. We didn’t force you. You must know this is for the greater good; you were never a fool like Alex.”
“Were you able to get blood from the estate?”
“You think I wouldn’t try that first? He must have destroyed any he had after her transition. I know where all his hiding places are. In any case, we need more of her blood than a couple vials, we need her alive.”
“You are sure he will not teach her how to use it?”
“Of course I am. I know Alex better than anyone. He hates this gift; he thinks it’s a curse. He will never teach her; he will make up some story, hide it away.”
She turned to face him. The room was empty. She wasn’t sure if he believed her about the blood. He was very good at sensing a lie. Luckily for her, she had learned to be the best at telling one.
She turned back and stared at the Paris sky. A single tear rolled down her face. She knew what she had to do now. After decades, there might be a chance, a tiny chance. She had waited lifetimes for this. For the first time in forever, she had a reason to live, if even for a short time. The most complex chess game she had ever played was nearing the end, and even though she felt she was gaining the upper hand, she knew all too well how quickly that could change. They had always won before. It had to be different this time. The only thing that gave her hope was that winning was not for her this time; her life was over. This time it was for someone else. This time it was for Mia.
Rebecca hadn’t forgotten how. She started to softly cry and closed her eyes.
• • •
Home Alone
Nikki awoke to the sound of thunder. She used to love the sound of thunder, a storm on the horizon; now, it seemed, those feelings were back. The sound electrified her. She smiled with her eyes still closed and thought about last night. She opened her eyes and immediately saw a note on the dresser. She jumped out of bed, wearing her now favorite hot pink PJs.
Dear Nikki,
I need to go out for a short time.
Please make yourself at home and rest.
— Alex.
That set her mood back some. Oh well, what was she expecting, that he would make breakfast for her every day? Actually she sorta was.
She pulled on her slippers and decided it was time for some exploring. Godfried would not be here today, on a weekend, so she had the entire mansion to herself. A chill went down her back as she realized she could be a spy. And wasn’t it her right? She was in a way held captive here, actually not really it turned out, but anyway. She started to walk down the long hallway, past the kitchen. So many rooms, so many hallways.
She stopped at the garage. This time she took a closer look. Beautiful cars. Some she knew, some she had never heard of. There was no question that the total worth must be in the millions of dollars. Then something caught her eye. She loved motorcycles, always had. And there it was, a Ducati Italian super bike in perfect condition. She walked over and sat on it. A long time ago she used to ride. She loved it, the wind in her hair, the danger, the speed. The memories rushed back as she pulled on the throttle. She laughed as she thought of herself here in her pink PJs sitting on this motorcycle.
She hopped off and made her way back into the main house. She walked down a level to where Alex had been working last night. She walked down the long hallway and thought she remembered this was the room he had been working in. It seemed every door was locked. This one in particular had a small window. She peeked inside. It looked like a library of some sort.
Nikki slowly turned the knob. She held her breath as the door opened. It wasn’t locked. Maybe he forgot? It actually didn’t shock her as much as she supposed it should. Maybe he didn’t care. She was sure his real secrets were locked up somewhere incredibly safe. It wouldn’t be this easy.
She tip-toed into the room. It was beautiful. Books of every type covered all the walls. More books than she could ever remember seeing in one place. She sat in a soft chair and scanned the room. Her eyes locked onto a glass panel with what looked like smaller books inside. She pulled it open.
Journals. There must have been hundreds, covered in beautiful leather. Were they his? She pulled one out of the middle, sat back down and started to read.
March 24th, 1946
Rescued a young girl today. Not more than 12 in age. She told me of her melancholy, and how she did not want to go on. I told her truthfully that I also understood this feeling, and that it can be conquered, it can go away without death. It was an especially cold winter day in the city. The girl had severe frostbite when we pulled her in.
I hope to see her when she can take visitors. I feel it helps if one can talk about sadness, or melancholy as they seem to use the term here. I feel good about today. Even the cold weather could not pull me down today.?— A.
Her hand was shaking as she looked through the pages. Rescue logs. Some happy, some very sad. She knew well how some rescues didn’t go as planned. You could never save them all. She was sure it was him talking. As sure as she was sitting in his chair. The years of the entries didn’t seem to shock her anymore. Something was clearly wrong, but for some reason the puzzle in her mind was starting to come together. Not that she understood any of this. But she knew she was a part of it. It was who she was now. Somehow she knew that, even thinking back to her childhood now, things were starting to make sense for the first time. She thought about the note again, and what her foster mother had said. Maybe it was real? She had started to think it was just the disease playing with Susan’s mind. Maybe there was more to it; was it somehow connected to all this?
She realized she was starving. She had become used to having her meals made for her. She laughed out loud as she thought about that. Never in a lifetime would she imagine herself living in a mansion with food brought to her on a silver platter. Actually not a bad life at all. It seemed she had already become used to it!
Finding the kitchen was easy this time. Well, one of the kitchens at least. She was starting to build a map of the property in her mind. She was always great with directions. In ESU they used to say she had a built-in GPS in her brain. It had started to kick in, and she was slowly memorizing the layout. Never know when that might come in handy, she thought to herself.
That reminded her of the gun. She had forgotten about it since her memories had come back about Alex saving her life. It was in the drawer in her bedroom. Still loaded and ready. Well, again, you never know. She probably should keep it with her, she thought in passing.
The kitchen was beautiful. She didn’t even know where to begin. Every type of food was available, and every pot and pan ever created seemed to be there. She cooked up some eggs on the gas stove. The smell was fantastic. She noticed again how her sense of smell seemed to be amplified since she had arrived here. And not just that. Her hearing, all her senses. It was like they were all in overdrive.
She sat down by a counter and drank milk right from the bottle. She was disgusted as she realized what she was doing, then laughed. What does it matter, Nikki? she asked herself. She noticed she had been talking to herself a lot lately; she had never done that before.
> She guessed she was a bit rough around the edges. Not like him. He was so, what was the word, cultured? She wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, he was smooth. A pure gentleman, at least on the outside, and she felt he was that way on the inside as well. That’s what her gut told her at least.
She tried to clean up the best she could. The dishwasher was so complicated she couldn’t figure out how to even turn it on. Anyway it was just one dish. She washed it in the sink and put it back. She could get used to this kitchen.
Nikki walked back down to the study; well, she called it the study now, and walked back into the room. She brought some snacks with her this time and sat down with the journals and started to read.
Hours passed until she read one that took her breath away. It was the first time a woman he cared for had ever been mentioned.
December 16th, 1968
I swore to myself, I saw Rebecca today, holding the hand of a child. I was such a fool. I ran to her. By the time I reached the spot, no one was there. My mind is playing tricks on me. My heart still hurts even after decades. I find myself wondering where she is, or if she is even alive. If she is alive, I am sure she is in Paris or Rome, some exotic locale. Her feet in the sand, enjoying life, in a way that I was never able to. She did have that about her, she knew how to enjoy life, and this gift as she calls it. I do not consider it a gift. Not after losing her forever.
— A.
Rebecca. So there was a woman in his past. Of course there was. He was incredibly handsome and smart. Any woman would give just about anything to be with him. It was shocking to her that there weren’t more women. He talked only about Rebecca in the journals she had read so far. Was this the woman the gas station attendant said was his wife? The wife who had died? And he had also said that Alex seemed lonely. She agreed.
She kept reading. The more she read, the more she was sure this was him writing; everything about it was Alex. How could this be? And what did it mean?
Nikki pulled out another of the thicker journals. A letter fell out and slowly drifted to the floor. Her heart stopped as she picked up one of the pages.
Together Forever, my Love.
— Rebecca.
Her hands shook as she read it. A love letter, written by Rebecca to Alex. She felt terrible as she read it, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She carefully placed it back in the journal.
She felt a burning jealousy. It shocked her. She barely knew Alex, and yet, reading the letter from a person he probably still loved, shook her to the core. She wasn’t the type of girl to fall for a man so quickly, especially someone she wasn’t even sure she could trust. She realized that was part of it all. When she was around Alex she felt off balance, like anything could happen. She couldn’t predict him, or how she would feel every time she saw him. She was becoming addicted to that feeling. She shook her head as she wondered what was happening to her.
It was clearly time for a talk, a real talk about everything. For some reason she had been putting it off. It wasn’t like he had refused to talk to her. She hadn’t asked. Maybe it was the comfort here, the mansion, the warmth, him. She almost didn’t want to know. Would it be OK if she just played dumb? Was that so wrong?
She guessed it was. Her previous self, before she died, that woman would never have considered not wanting answers. She always wanted the truth. She had changed; she felt happy here, maybe happy for the first time ever. Still though, at some point, she had to know. There were so many mysteries; it wasn’t possible not to want answers, even for a dead girl.
• • •
Married
“Do you wish me to stay, miss?”
“Thank you, Godfried. My memory’s starting to come back. You were right. I don’t believe Alex would harm me.”
He smiled, “He never would, miss.”
Her face turned a bit red as he turned to leave. “Godfried?”
“Yes, miss?”
“I still trust you more.” She winked at Alex in full view of both of them.
He really smiled this time. “Yes, miss.”
She could see Alex smile with his head down. Was he laughing? She felt a warmth all around her. She must have felt this way once in her life before, maybe as a child? But she couldn’t remember. She felt amazing now. Maybe that was all the mattered.
It was just the two of them now. She could hear the clock ticking in the other room. It sounded like it was right next to her.
“How long did you stay with me in the bathroom?”
“Oh, only a couple hours, I took you to your room. I promise I didn’t look.”
“Right,” she said with a sarcastic tone and smiled a bit. “Well, I told you to stay. And I fell asleep, thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me for anything,” he seemed serious.
“Dianne said they had my funeral.”
He nodded.
“So to the outside world, I am dead then. I don’t exist.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true.”
His eyes looked sad again.
“What would you think of me if I didn’t want to know? I don’t mean forever!” She noticed she was almost yelling and tried to calm herself.
“I just mean, is it crazy if I just don’t want to ask questions right now? Can I explain something?”
“Anything.”
“My life. It hasn’t been good. I have a feeling you already knew that. After the car accident, when I was taken away. I went through most of my life not feeling much. Just routine, you know, the daily routine kept me going. It was like I never really was alive.
“So now I’m dead. I don’t know how I am here, but for now, for a while, is it OK if I don’t want to know? It must sound crazy to you.”
“Not in the least. You are safe now, Nikki. There will be time for answers whenever you are ready. Why are you crying?” He looked like he wanted so badly to run over to her, but held back.
“I don’t know. I cry a lot now, I guess. I didn’t used to. It’s weird, even when, well, when really bad stuff happened, I never cried. It seems lately I cry all the time. I’m weak.”
“Crying doesn’t mean you are weak. It means you are alive. Nikki, can I ask you something?”
“You saved my life, remember? So maybe one question. Two if you didn’t look.” Actually she didn’t care if he did. Not that she would ever let him know that.
He smiled. “All right, then, one question.”
She laughed and threw a slice of bread at him. It hit him right in his face. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know I was such a good aim!”
He laughed hard. “I deserved it.”
Was she flirting with him? She felt so happy inside for some reason; she didn’t want to think about anything bad for now.
“Did you travel much before you died?”
She looked down. “No, I never had any money to travel. The previous me, I mean. She was boring.”
“I doubt she was boring. Remember, I met her. So, New Nikki. Would you like to go to Greece?”
She laughed hard. “In my dreams!” I remember telling my mom that someday I would visit the whole world. I think she believed me.”
“How long do you need to pack?”
“What? Stop messing with me!”
He picked up his cell phone. “Yes. Have the jet fueled and ready. Santorini. In two hours?” He looked at her as if she had a question.
Her hand was shaking. She nodded her head.
“Greece? You’re serious?”
“As serious as I can be with you in those pink PJs.”
“Now? Today! I don’t have a passport, I never had one actually.”
“Check your top dresser drawer; you have a passport. And actually two hours from now if you want to be accurate.” He smiled even more this time.
She felt herself blush as she jumped up and ran to start packing. Pulling the drawer open she saw a box. It wasn’t there a couple of days ago, she was sure of it. She sat down on the soft bed and opened it up.
Sh
e pulled out a dark blue passport. She slowly opened it and saw herself. It had a couple of countries stamped inside, places she had never been. There was cash, lots of it. And then she saw it. It was huge, beyond huge. The most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen. Couldn’t be. Not possible.
She tried it on; it fit perfectly. She tried to talk but nothing came out. She was alone anyway! What was wrong with her? She looked at it closely. She knew enough about diamonds from police raids to tell that it was real, actually real. It couldn’t be. It would be worth — she couldn’t even count that high.
Alex looked stunned at the sight of her as she walked down the stairs. She guessed she probably did look much different after cleaning up. She had been wearing the same set of PJs for weeks. She had finally taken a long shower, fixed her hair, and put on one of the dresses Godfried had given to her.
“You are stunning.”
Did he just blush? She raised her hand up showing the ring.
“You trust me with this?”
He gave that perfect smile again.
“I trust you with my life, New Nikki. Sometimes, when I travel, I find it is much easier to be married than single. People tend to suspect less.”
She knew this, of course. Her training for undercover work had taught that a married couple was one of the best ways to go unnoticed. People tend to look away from a kissing couple; it’s human nature. Also, people tend to be much less suspicious of married people. — again, using society against itself.
“So we are married then?”
“Only if you wish—”
She looked at the ring, then looked up at Alex.
“Well, for a dead girl you picked a nice ring.” She wouldn’t tell him that it was the most beautiful ring she could ever imagine.