by Dina Given
While I was in the bathroom changing, in a moment of divinely horrific timing, Jason knocked on my door and Alex answered it. I came running out of the bathroom when I heard the sound of my living room lamp shattering, and found the two of them scuffling on the floor. After I broke up the party, Jason looked abashed.
“I’m sorry. I had no right to do that,” he said.
“No, you didn’t!” Although, I had to admit, I got some satisfaction from the black eye Alex was sporting. He deserved it and much more for killing Eddie.
I couldn’t easily explain to Jason who Alex was and why I was with him; therefore, I simply introduced him as a friend. Jason looked none too pleased, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Alex. Alex graciously backed out of the trip to Benjamin’s house with the excuse that he had plans to visit a bookstore.
Benjamin’s main office was in the Pentagon, but he said he needed to escape Washington D.C. politics once in a while, so he kept a house on Long Island. During the train ride there, I brought Jason up to speed on the events of the past twenty-four hours. He looked skeptical yet was supportive of my need to dig for more information.
We stepped off the Long Island Railroad at the Stony Brook station. Benjamin lived in the very small, affluent hamlet of Old Field on the North Shore of the island, about an hour east of Manhattan. The sun had just dipped behind the horizon when the taxi pulled up to the home that stood gracefully at the top of the bluffs, overlooking the Long Island Sound.
It had once been a modest farmhouse on acres of pastureland. Over the decades, it had fallen into disrepair. When Benjamin had purchased it twenty years ago, he had immediately begun a multi-year project of renovations, additions, and modernization of the home. After he was done, it was a stunning estate that retained those rustic farmhouse features by using the original stone walls, doors, and furniture made of reclaimed wood from an old barn on the property as well as a grand wrap-around porch overlooking the Sound. It was the perfect escape from the high-pressure world of Washington politics.
I paid the taxi driver, then Jason and I made our way up the bluestone walkway to knock on a set of heavy oak doors. The seconds ticked by until the door finally swung open. The man standing in the threshold was shorter than me, with a thinning head of gray hair and wrinkles that made him look older than his sixty years. His eyes were small and dark, reflecting a man who was shrewd, intelligent, and no-nonsense. He was slight, but his waistline was starting to develop a slight paunch. On first glance, he appeared to be made of stone, hard and unyielding, yet when that broad smile crossed his face upon seeing me, it erased at least ten years from his features, added a sparkle to his eyes, and warmed his entire demeanor.
“Emma, my dear! What an unexpectedly wonderful surprise. Come in, come in.” He ushered us across the threshold.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, Ben. I hope you don’t mind. You remember Jason?”
“Mr. Ryker, welcome,” he said, shaking Jason’s hand. “Emma, you know you’re my favorite person on this earth. You are always welcome.”
“I may not be after I tell you why I’m here.”
The smile fell from Benjamin’s face, and the stony expression returned. He stared at me in silence for a moment, finally nodding in resignation. “Mr. Ryker, if you would be so kind as to wait in the library?” he said, walking us into a room off the foyer.
The library was two stories high with mahogany bookshelves covering every wall and a ladder that slid along a track, allowing the uppermost shelves to be reached. At the far end of the room was a hand-carved Civil War era desk, and plush sofas and armchairs were arranged before a stone fireplace that was so large a man could comfortably stand in it.
Jason grudgingly entered the library, and we left him alone to peruse the shelves with feigned interest. We made our way through the pretentious front part of the house that was only used to make an impression on equally pretentious guests. The sound of our heels echoing off the marble floors turned silent as we stepped onto the soft carpeting of the back half of the house, where the real living happened.
As we approached the kitchen, the phone rang. “Just give me a minute to answer that. Make yourself comfortable in the kitchen,” Benjamin said before entering his formal office off the kitchen.
The kitchen was warm and sunny, filled with cream-colored cabinetry and stainless steel appliances. The room was dominated by a large center island with graceful curves and swirling granite in colors of cream, gold, and burgundy. Although he had a formal office, Benjamin’s laptop and work papers were scattered across the island.
I casually explored the bottles in his wine rack, which happened to be located near the kitchen entrance, putting me within earshot of Benjamin’s conversation. “Did you procure it? Excellent. How much does she want for it? What! That much? Okay, we’ll have to take this one out of the reserve budget. It’s probably better that way, less paperwork. Once you move it, make sure it’s secure but accessible. Yes, put it into play. Goodbye.”
I heard the soft beep of the phone being hung up, and then Benjamin joined me in the kitchen.
“See anything you like?” he asked, nodding toward the wine rack.
“Yeah. How about the Tignanello? I can’t resist a good Super Tuscan.”
“Good choice.” He removed the bottle from the rack and searched for a corkscrew.
“Closing a big deal?”
Benjamin’s head shot up. “You know me; I’m always negotiating something,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Enough about me. How are you? How is work?”
I had told Benjamin that I was a security consultant. I didn’t want him to think less of me because of my line of work. “Work is fine, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Benjamin handed me a glass of wine, and we settled into the stools at the island. He took a long pull from his own glass then said, “Okay, I’m ready. You can talk to me about anything.”
My glass clinked against the granite as I fidgeted with it, swirling the wine for longer than necessary. “I know you must have found something out about me when I asked you to look into my family years ago. I need to know what you know.”
“Where is this coming from, Em? What triggered this?”
“Some … stuff … happened this past week. I met some people who told me I’m … not from here. They were pretty convincing.”
He didn’t respond right away. He was thoughtful, merely watching me as if he were trying to read the truth of what had happened on my face. Right when his stare was lingering a bit too long for my comfort, his eyes shifted away, staring into the middle distance. “Tell me what happened.”
I had spent the entire train ride debating how much to tell Benjamin. I trusted him implicitly, yet there was no way I was prepared to answer that question truthfully. “Um, I can’t really go into details. It was work related, so I have to respect the confidentiality of my clients.” I knew I couldn’t expect complete honesty from him if I wasn’t willing to give a little in return; therefore, I debated what was innocuous enough to reveal. “All I can tell you is that the name of the person who hired me is Vincent Darko.”
Benjamin’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, and he seemed to age right in front of my eyes. “I will tell you what I know, which isn’t much. It was almost ten years ago when I got a call from a friend … someone very high up in the military. He told me about a girl who had been found unconscious in the New Mexico desert eleven months prior. He never explained what exactly had happened to you, just that you had been in a coma all that time. They had been keeping you under observation at a military hospital, and you had just woken up, seemingly with severe amnesia. They had no idea what to do with you, so they called me.”
“Why you? Why not just call Social Services and turn me over to state authorities like they would have done with any other lost child?”
“They thought you might be important, I suppose. You were apparently found under mysterious circumstances, alth
ough I have no idea what that means. Anyway, I was the guy they went to when they needed things. In this case, they needed to find you a home. I actually thought about adopting you myself, but I was younger and more ambitious at the time. Work was my life, and I was unmarried. I was nowhere near equipped to raise a teenage girl.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” I asked, trying not to think about how different my life could have been had Benjamin decided to take me in.
He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “What was I supposed to say—that I turned you away and you ended up in an abusive foster home for years as a result? I can’t tell you how much I regret that decision.”
I could see the truth of that statement in the pleading look he gave me. It wasn’t worth crying over. Benjamin had been good to me, even if he hadn’t raised me. I was grateful to him for that much.
“Who is this ‘they’ you keep referring to?”
“I’m sorry, Emma, but I can’t give you names. I’m under strict orders. I shouldn’t even have told you as much as I have. What I can do is warn you, though. ‘They’ are very dangerous and powerful men who won’t hesitate to do whatever is necessary to achieve their objectives, up to and including murder. I don’t know what their goals are, but based on who is involved, I can tell you this thing goes all the way to the top.”
“So, what would you have me do?” I hadn’t realized until right then how tired I was of being on the defensive all the time. I was usually the hunter, not the prey. It wasn’t much fun being on this side of the equation. Then Benjamin dropped a bomb on me that my newest enemies had serious backing and virtually unlimited resources. Evil sorcerers from another world were one thing; the might of the U.S. government was something entirely different. I didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting out of this one alive.
“Lay low, go into hiding where they can’t find you. Don’t poke your head up until you have figured out who you are. And, when that day arrives, come and see me. I’ll help you get through this. I have a few connections of my own, and I can protect you as long as you don’t do anything … reckless.”
I chuckled at that. “Reckless” was practically my profession, and I was good at it. “Okay, Ben. Thanks for the advice. I promise that, if I have a sudden return of my memory, you’ll be the first person I call.”
He seemed pleased with that answer and gave me a warm bear hug. Releasing me, he said, “I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything more. But you said this past week had been strange. What did you mean by that?”
“I was just being dramatic. It was a crazy week at work. I had a client put me in a bad spot, but I worked it all out. Everything is fine now. Look, I want you to know you have been good to me. I’m not angry or even a little upset at the decision you made a decade ago. You made the choice that was right for you at the time. You didn’t know what was going to happen.” I gave him a weak smile, and he returned it.
Jason and I stayed for dinner, the mood lifting as we ate, talked, and joked. Then it was time to catch the train back to the city. Benjamin called us a cab, and we left him with warm goodbyes before walking to the end of the long drive to wait for the taxi.
Instead of a cab coming for us, a black stretch limo pulled up. At first, I thought Benjamin had gifted us with a limo back to the city, but when the muscle-bound driver stepped out and opened the rear door for us, a man in a business suit peered out with cold, gray eyes.
“Miss Hayes, Mr. Ryker, my employer would very much like to speak with you. Please …” He swept his hand toward the interior of the car, signaling us to get in.
I looked back at the driver who had stepped up behind us, blocking our path away from the car. Jason and I wouldn’t have had a problem taking both of them, but the driver already had a semi-automatic pointed at my back, and as fast as I was, I couldn’t dodge bullets.
I nodded at Jason, and then we stepped into the limousine.
“Who is your employer, and what does he want with us?” I asked.
“Well, he doesn’t actually want anything with Mr. Ryker, but I figured it would be easier to get you in the car if he was invited along.”
“And what makes me so special?”
“I must say, Miss Hayes, I am disappointed you haven’t been able to figure that out yet. But no matter. My employer will put you on the path to enlightenment.”
“Oh? Are you taking us to see the Dalai Lama?”
He chuckled dryly. “No, not quite. I am taking you to see Nathan Anshar.”
Jason and I exchanged a surprised glance. Nathan Anshar was one of the wealthiest men in the country. He was often considered a genius for his uncanny ability to create and build companies that caught fire then selling them for an astronomical profit. For the past several years, he had been focused on building a research incubator for the development of new medical therapies. His company was focused on developing a novel compound for the treatment of cancer. There had even been speculation it could become the next blockbuster drug if it ever made it to the market.
“So, what does he want with me?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Hayes, but I think I can safely guess he wants to talk business.”
“And who are you?”
“Who I am isn’t important, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, you can call me Mr. Smith. I am Mr. Anshar’s assistant.”
“Like his secretary?” I smirked.
He didn’t seem to appreciate the snarky humor. “No. I assist him. My role is primarily to handle the most challenging assignments. Often, I am tasked to deal with those who have disappointed Mr. Anshar in some way. A word of advice, do not disappoint him.” Smith winked at me, but I got the feeling he was much more dangerous than I had initially believed. Anyone who worked for a man like Anshar must be quite good at his job.
We rode the rest of the way back to Manhattan in silence. I stared out the tinted windows, hypnotized by the blur of streetlights and the soft thump, thump, thump of the car driving over evenly spaced gaps in the roadway. Soon, I started to drift off, lulled by the motion of the car, the vibration of the engine, and the silence.
I dreamt of a place consumed in fire and ash, and in the midst of the destruction stood an impenetrable gray fortress. Its towers and turrets loomed over the desolate landscape and flew banners with a red dragon on a field of black. I heard a voice, faint at first yet growing insistently louder. I will teach you. They cannot stand against us. I didn’t recognize the voice. It was deep and steely with an unfamiliar accent that sounded almost Russian or Slavic, though not quite. Then I was flying over the land. Far below me were glittering rivers, verdant green fields, dense forests, snow-capped mountains, and arid deserts. From this height, all looked peaceful, and I smiled at the beauty of it.
Then the ground was rushing up to meet me. I was plummeting out of control, the wind grabbing at my hair and whipping it painfully across my face. My eyes stung, and I couldn’t catch my breath. As the ground came closer, I started to make out shapes and movement. The tiny specs grew, taking the shape of men, horses, and creatures I couldn’t put a name to. There was fire and arrows and the sounds of clashing steel. As I fell, I could see the bright red of blood and hear the screams of pain and fear.
Looming beneath me was the greatest shape of all—an enormous red dragon like the one on the banners. It looked skyward, as if expecting me. I was powerless to stop my decent and unable to change direction. The dragon opened its mouth to reveal hundreds of serrated teeth. Terror raced through me at the thought of being chewed by that beast, but then a glow began at the back of its throat that grew brighter and hotter. Flame poured forth, spouting into the sky directly at me as I fell to meet it.
I awoke with a start. The car was slowing as it pulled into the garage under a luxury apartment building on Central Park West. The driver took a reserved spot right next to an elevator labeled “private.” We exited the limo, and Mr. Smith used a key to unlock access to the elevator. The doors slid open silently to re
veal an immaculate marble and mirror interior.
“No thumb print or retinal scan?” I teased at the low-tech manner of entry.
“A very good shape shifter would be able to mimic fingerprints and eyes. And, even your average human with a good knife could take those from someone who had security access.”
His mention of shape shifters made me immediately think of Eddie. He had made an impression on me with his raunchy humor and sweet demeanor. Had I been wrong about him?
It wasn’t until Jason elbowed me with a wide-eyed look that it dawned on me that Mr. Smith knew about the existence of shape shifters. Could this visit have something to do with the events of the past week? How was a wealthy businessman entangled in otherworldly matters?
Before I could ask Mr. Smith what else he knew, the elevator chimed to signal we had reached our destination on the fifty-sixth floor. The doors opened, and we stepped into a space that looked more like a museum than a home. The walls were covered in original Van Goghs, Picassos, and other masters, all contained in heavy, gilded frames and enclosed in glass, dramatically lit by soft spotlights above each piece. Tucked within corners and alcoves were Greek and Roman statuary, some fully intact and others missing heads, arms, and pieces from their torsos.
Placed thoughtfully throughout the large, open space were settees as well as ornately carved chairs; chests; and other pieces of heavy, wood furniture. On top of tables and chests sat decorative objects—vases, glassware, statuettes, jeweled eggs, dolls—some encased in glass and others accessible to touch. Mr. Anshar was clearly a collector of the rare and beautiful, or maybe he simply didn’t know what else to do with his gobs of money.
“Mr. Anshar will be out in a moment. Please have a seat … and don’t touch anything.” Mr. Smith exited via the elevator, leaving Jason and I amidst the relics. I couldn’t imagine how anyone, except perhaps a thief, would ever risk touching items so delicate and valuable.
“Um, where are we supposed to sit? I’m afraid to put my ass on anything,” Jason said, looking around.