by Keary Taylor
It’s how long Eli will remain in custody.
I reach for my cell phone and check the time. 8:41.
My heart ticks into my throat. I scramble from the bed and race for the closet. I throw on the first clothes I can find that will be appropriate for work. I remind myself that I’m not going to be cowed into fear while I’m stuck here. I throw the door to my room open and dash down the stairs.
A voice, harsh and angry, echoes through the house. I round the stairs and dash into the kitchen. In the living room, I see Cyrus, phone pressed to his ear. He’s angry. Livid.
Mina sits at the island, a tablet in her hand. She looks up at me as I go to the refrigerator and search for anything to eat.
“You have work today, yes?” she asks in a thick accent.
“Yes,” I answer her, realizing it’s the first time she’s spoken to me. “And if I don’t leave right now I’m going to be late.”
I settle on a yogurt and grab a banana I see sitting on the counter.
I’m not going to wait for permission to head to work. Our deal was that I could wrap up my life.
He gives an inch, I’m going to take a mile.
I head for the door without looking back.
“Mina will accompany you to your place of employment,” Cyrus suddenly says from behind. I pause with my hand on the door, looking over my shoulder. Cyrus stands there, and to my immense pleasure, he seems surprised at my boldness. He holds the phone, tipped away from him for a moment. “I shall meet you there after you’re finished.”
I curl a nasty smile onto my lips. “Can’t wait.” I spin on my heel and walk to the front door.
The deadly woman follows me outside. She slips on a pair of dark sunglasses just before we walk out the door. Silent, she slips into the passenger seat of my car.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain you to my boss,” I say in annoyance as I put the car into reverse and back out. I start down the driveway. “I don’t exactly qualify to have a shadow at my work. I’m the apprentice.”
“He’ll never know I am around,” she says, looking all around. She studies the drive in front of us, the side lawn. And I get the feeling she’s more than adequate at security. “I do not need to stay directly at your side to keep an eye on you.”
I glance over at her before I turn onto the main road. “I still don’t really understand. Yes, Cyrus says I’ll resurrect after I die. But I don’t understand why he, in particular, cares, or why he’s in such a hurry.”
“That is an answer that is for him alone to provide,” she responds simply, and her silence tells me she’s done with this conversation.
So with only the quiet drone of the radio, we make our way through town. I round the block to my work, and park at the side of the building. With a wary look in Mina’s direction, I climb out.
I walk to the front doors, and look over my shoulder. Just as I pull it open, I see Mina blow a kiss to me and slink into the shadows of the building.
How? How did my life get so weird in less than two days?
Things are quiet when I get inside. I head to Emmanuel’s office and find him at his desk.
“Morning,” he says distractedly as he stares at his screen. “How was your weekend?”
I actually chuckle. How am I supposed to answer that question?
“It had lots of unexpected turns of events,” I say. And realize that was dumb. If he asks questions…
But he only makes a grunt noise, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
“I assume today’s a down day?” I ask, placing a hand on the doorframe. “Down to the dungeon for me?”
He takes a few seconds too long to respond, and when he makes some kind of affirmative noise again, he looks over at me, blinking four times, as if he’s just realized I’m standing here. “Sorry, Logan. Some administration stuff going on this morning.” His eyes flick to the screen again. “Yes, take today and let’s get everything all cleaned up. Thanks.”
I actually smile, shaking my head as I turn and walk out of his office.
I walk out and head down the stairs. Down to the lower level, and down to where I am most comfortable at work.
On slow days like this, when there are no loved ones who have passed beyond the veil, we play catch up. Emmanuel goes about the business of running Sykes Funeral Home. Craig and Katie occasionally come in to help me, but usually they get the day off. But me? I get to clean the prep room.
Meticulously, I clean the tools. I clean out the fridge. I sweep. I dust.
And as I work, I blast my music.
I love alternative. Rock. Punk. Anything loud and passionate and…aggressive. Anything that gets my blood running and gives me the feeling that I can do anything.
Emmanuel calls it awful noise. He says that you can’t even understand the words, and constantly questions how I’m not a vile, stupid-people murdering person.
But we like what we like.
True to her word, I never once see any signs of Mina. It’s just me in this building, and considering I never hear Em question anyone who doesn’t belong, she stays outside.
I’m grateful for a day like today, where Em and I don’t have to work side-by-side, face-to-face. It would be hard to act normal, when everything is turned upside down in my life.
It’d be hard to hide the constant worry twisting in my gut.
Cyrus ordered that Eli be taken into custody. Somewhere, Eli is tied up, watched over by Edmond Valdez. Possibly taken back to Las Vegas, where Cyrus says they live.
Is he okay? Will they hurt him?
I still as I wipe down the table.
I’ve known Eli since I was a freshman in high school. Spent countless hours with him. Accepted him as a part of my life.
But Cyrus says it’s been sixteen years since he disappeared from Mississippi. What if… Is there any chance that he’s really been there, quiet, in the shadows, for nearly my entire life?
Who is Eli? Because apparently, he is not the man that I came to think of as a family member.
At three-thirty I’ve cleaned every surface of the prep room. I’ve organized the casket selection room twice. The chapel is as clean as ever. So I pack up my things and walk upstairs.
Like he hasn’t moved a muscle, Emmanuel still stares at that computer screen.
“Need anything else?” I ask. He’s working so intently, I’m actually a little concerned. He’s not usually so absorbed.
“Thank you, Logan,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A sad little smile on my lips, I turn, and head outside.
I’m only two steps down the stairs when Mina steps out of the shadows, sunglasses still in place.
“Did you enjoy your boring day of waiting for me to run?” I ask as I head to my car. Sweat immediately breaks out onto my forehead. It’s hot, summer ramping up to full swing.
“Delightful,” she mutters. We both slide into the seats and I start the engine, cranking the air conditioning.
“I thought Cyrus was going to meet us after I got off,” I say.
But at the same moment the words are out of my mouth, a sleek, black car pulls up beside mine. The back window rolls down, and Cyrus looks over at us through his black shades.
I roll my window down, a sense of dread and excited anticipation creeping up my throat.
“I hope you had a pleasant day,” he says. And the vibrations of his voice send goose bumps flashing over my arms.
I don’t know what to say. No, it wasn’t a pleasant day. Really, in any aspect.
“Follow me,” he says. And his window rolls back up, and he disappears behind the dark tint of his windows.
I let out a big breath. I didn’t realize I had been holding it in.
The black car pulls out onto the main road and I follow it as it turns right. I pull in a breath, about to ask Mina where we are going, but I remember that she doesn’t want to talk to me, and she is not my friend, even though she’s sitting in the seat that is usually only occupied by Am
elia.
Through town we drive, and we cross the border into Cherico. With a right turn, I see a sign for the Cherico Municipal Airport.
My brows furrow in confusion as I follow behind the black car, and then we park in two of the five spaces in front of a gray hangar.
I’m about to climb out, when my door suddenly opens, and I look up to see Cyrus holding it open. He looks down at me with those shades, and holds a hand out for mine.
Hesitantly, I take it, and he pulls me up and to my feet.
“Follow me, Miss Pierce,” Cyrus says, offering a little smile and turning. Briskly, he walks to a small door in the side of the hanger.
I look him over as we walk, and I trail behind him.
Where as Cyrus wore an expensive and powerful suit yesterday, today he wears a pair of jeans that hug his legs and a black button-up shirt.
I didn’t fail to notice how he left the top three unbuttoned. Exposing a lean and firm chest.
He holds the door open for me, and I try to ignore the terrified electricity that crackles down my veins as I step inside.
I expected dark, an enclosed space. Instead, I’m blinded.
A huge door, like a garage, is open, so the entire front side of the hangar is open. A big cement floor stretches out. Off to one side is an enclosed office. Out here there are four old recliners, broken down and worn looking. Pictures adorn the walls. All taken from the air.
And just outside the hangar, out in the brilliant light, is a shiny, jet-black helicopter.
“You must be Cyrus.”
A man steps out from the office. He sports a thick, but well-manicured gray beard. He wears a black leather jacket, despite the heat, and worn out but well-fitted jeans. “I’m Vince.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Cyrus says, accepting the man’s outstretched hand.
“I guess I spoke to your assistant on the phone,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, standing there so casually, just chatting. If only he knew. “Sounds like your crew came from far out of town.”
Cyrus offers a little, thin-lipped smile. “Far, indeed.”
“Well, I’m honored you chose Vince Air for your romantic afternoon,” he says, his smile indicating that he’s catching on that he’s perhaps being a little comfortable and casual for a man like Cyrus. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get going.”
He turns and Cyrus follows.
“Wait,” I scramble. “You said…you said I’d have time. Where are you taking me?”
Cyrus stops abruptly, looking back. And a shiver washes over me. Even though I can’t see his eyes, I feel their intensity. Like he is the ultimate predator. And a thrill washes through me, knowing I could never run.
“I keep my promises, Logan,” he breathes. He takes three steps back to me. He reaches out and takes my right hand in his. “I’ve simply never visited this region. I thought we could enjoy a better view, from the sky. Together.”
Shivers.
All over.
Which I hate. But they happen, anyway.
With a little nod, I allow him to pull me forward, and I follow after him.
We climb inside and Vince gets us situated with earpieces and microphones. He shows us how to switch them to a channel so just the two of us can talk without being overheard by himself. And then we strap in, Cyrus and I, side by side.
I look out, and see Mina and Fredrick watching from the shadowed overhang of the hangar.
“Have you ever ridden in a helicopter before?” Cyrus’ voice cuts through my headpiece, his voice sounding mechanical and scratchy.
I shake my head, heavy and cumbersome with the headpiece. “Our family traveled a little bit. My parents liked to vacation. So we’ve flown a lot. But never in a helicopter.”
“You’re in for a pleasant experience, then,” he says, smiling as the blades above us begin spinning.
And just moments later, we lift into the air.
The pilot gently steers and expertly glides through the air, directing us toward the city.
“You said you’ve never been to this area,” I say, my voice sounding staticky through the headset. “Because this is fairly far from any of the Houses?”
Cyrus glances over at me. He nods.
“My area is ruled by the House in Las Vegas?” I ask. My gut twists. I’m asking questions. Using his words. Using those words of his world. Like I can accept it all. Like I can believe it all is real. “By the…House of Valdez?”
“That’s correct,” he says. He looks out, his shaded gaze sweeping over the suburbs as we head in the direction of the city.
“And what about you?” I say. “You belong to a House in Austria?”
A little smile curls on his lips but he doesn’t look at me. “Not exactly.”
Cryptic. Ugh.
“You’re someone important,” I say, looking down, trying not to think about how much air is between my rear end and that cluster of houses below me. “You aren’t being very direct about who you are, but the way Mina and Fredrick look at you? The money? The air around you? You’re important.”
Again, he doesn’t look at me. But I can feel his smile. “Yes,” he responds simply.
We glide through the air. The headset crackles and Vince’s voice fills my ears. He tells us about the surroundings. He circles the skyscrapers of downtown. Hovers over the Broncos’ stadium. Shows us other places of interest in Denver. Places I’ve visited more than once, but never seen from the air.
And then he banks, and we head toward the mountains.
“Where is the most beautiful place you’ve ever visited?” Cyrus asks.
I look away, watching as we approach the mountains. “Uh,” I think, thinking back through all the trips we took growing up. “I’d say Hawaii, maybe. But there was something…isolated feeling about it. Knowing I was surrounded by all that ocean, and nothing but ocean, for so far, it was a little terrifying, if I’m being honest.”
I feel Cyrus’ eyes narrow on me and wonder what’s going through his mind. My eyes dart away from his. “So, I guess it would be the Redwood Forests, in northern California.”
Foothills rise below us. And I can’t help but think how much more beautiful this tour would be during the winter, when the mountains are capped with snow.
“What about that area captured you?” Cyrus asks. He crosses his ankle over his knee, resting a hand on the opposite one.
I think about his question. And even though I’m looking at the Rocky Mountains, in my mind, I’m back among the moss and gigantic trees.
“I guess it was knowing how old everything there was,” I say. “There was this feeling of time there that I don’t really know how to explain. That everything there was ancient, but like I was a part of it too. Like we were in a simpler, easier world. The modern world just…didn’t matter in those trees. I felt…different there.”
I remember the smell. Of water and rotting wood and wild. The air felt different. Thicker. Like it’s own alive being that occupied those woods. I remember feeling as if I could disappear in-between those trees and assimilate into a world of mossy knells and sneaking foxes.
“Would you like to visit that feeling again?” Cyrus asks, pulling me from the forest. “Of timelessness?”
My eyes flick to his, and my brows narrow.
Such a strange question.
Such bizarre confidence, like he is powerful enough to obtain even that.
“I wouldn’t mind visiting again, if that’s what you mean,” I say, blinking as I look away, back to the rocky ridges below.
We ride out the rest of the tour in relative silence. Vince guides us through valleys and over high peaks. The mountains stretch up toward us, threatening to scrape the bottom of the mechanical beast. But safely we soar over them.
And finally, we begin making our way back. Over towns. Over homes. Over businesses. Over thousands of lives, and I think about how I only ever get the opportunity to live just one.
Am I doing what I want if I only get to experience
this one life?
Hardly.
“Are you alright?” Cyrus asks.
I look over at him. I blink once, taking in his beautiful and terrifying face. The furrowed brows. The lips that hold my gaze. The penetrating eyes.
“Fine,” I breathe. “Why?”
“I’ve only spent hours around you, Logan. But you generally seem to have much to say, and the gall to say it. You’ve been…pensive.”
I look away and shrug. “I’m approaching the end of my life, aren’t I?” I say with a little bit of bite and bitterness. “I think this is a perfect time to be pensive.”
“Understandable,” Cyrus consents.
The night is approaching by the time we land back at the hangar. Deep purples cut through the sky, accompanied by brilliant golds.
I take my headset off and with Vince’s hand, climb out. A slight smile pulls on my lips as I look back at the helicopter.
“Thank you for the lovely evening,” Cyrus says, shaking Vince’s hand once more. “It was a truly beautiful time.”
“My pleasure,” he says, closing up the helicopter. “You two love birds have a wonderful night.”
I startle at his words, looking back.
And as I see Cyrus’ little smile once more, as I follow him through the hangar, I can’t help but think.
Had this man not come and taken control of my life, had he not kidnapped me, taken away Eli, told me I had to die, would he be the type I’d be interested in?
He’s certainly the stuff of a wet dream.
He radiates power.
He’s rich.
He has the face of a god.
Certainly plenty of women would kiss his feet and slowly work their way higher.
Had I just run into Cyrus at some random place and he asked me on a date, would I have said yes?
I don’t know if I can quite answer that.
Two faces, I remind myself.
“I thought vampires only came out at night,” I say, ripping myself in a different direction of thought. “But you’re always going out. All of you, always with sunglasses.”
“The sun is indeed a problem,” Cyrus says, glancing over his shoulder at the sinking sun.
“Sunglasses do the trick, though?” I scoff. “It doesn’t seem like it could ever be enough.”