33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy)

by Rain Carrington

  Ian showed him how to get to the west wing of the home using the back staircase that was for the servants to use. He hated it, that Pat had to use it, that he was seen by everyone there except for him as one of the staff. He wanted to shout it through the enormous house, in every room that Pat was his, that Pat had chosen him, and he was the happiest man in the world because of it. Instead, these games had to be played.

  His suite of rooms was at the end of the hall, through the thick, solid wood double doors. He realized, maybe for the first time that the hall leading to his room was twice the size as the servants’ rooms. Suddenly, his own bedroom was like an enemy. Pat sensed it.

  “Baby, would you stop worrying?”

  They hadn’t gone through the doors as yet, and once he did, Pat would see that he did belong in the Grail. He was just like the rest, the opulence and riches that the rest of the world only dreamed about.

  “I’ve been living this life, and I didn’t earn it, I never sacrificed for it. My father didn’t either and his didn’t. We’re like the rest of the Grail members.”

  “You’re nothing like them.”

  He pushed the doors open to show Pat the proof. Pat walked into the sitting area, laughing. “This is fucking beautiful, Ian.”

  Ian went in behind him, then moved to his side so he could see. Sure enough, his mother had been there. Not to redecorate, there hadn’t been time, but there were new silk panels on the line of tall windows to the left, a new light blue Persian rug under the leather sectional in the center of the room, and the fireplace had been repainted. The scent of it was still in the air. She’d had the painters match the bright white of the sofas, and above that was a black and white portrait of a mountaintop, the wind blowing the snow, obscuring one side.

  “That is beautiful, Ian.”

  Ian agreed. It was one of the few pieces his mother brought into his suite that he hadn’t hated. “My mother found this photographer in Aspen. Her name is Guadalupe Laiz. She’s an amazing artist. This one, it was my favorite when we went to the gallery last year.”

  “It feels so lonely and cold, but there’s something more there. Like a triumph. I don’t know, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “It thought the same. I still haven’t figured it out, but it’s nice to keep trying.”

  The room was simply furnished, as Ian had requested when he turned eighteen. Before, it had been done in gilded tables and priceless art. He explained this to Pat as they made their way to the bedroom. “Mother had been upset at first, until she and her decorator thought of it as a challenge. Sure, everything here is costly, but there’s not a touch of gold or marble. I was so sick of marble,” he laughed.

  The bed was a super king size but was gently decorated in a taupe and brown duvet and pillows in lavender, dark pink and chocolate. There was a desk in the corner with three laptops on shelves to the side, and candles in crystal hurricane lamps across the fireplace mantel.

  “It’s romantic.”

  “Mother says all bedrooms of adults should be restful and romantic, given what was done in them.”

  Pat chuckled as he felt the bed and groaned. “Wow, that’s soft and made for sweet dreams. You mother does have a flair.”

  “She does.”

  The dressing area was as big as the bedroom, closets lining each side, a dressing table with mirror and various scents of cologne. There were jewelry drawers at the ends of each closet, filled with his cufflinks, tie clips, rings, and any other jewelry he owned. To be up front, and show Pat his life outside of the apartment, school, everything Pat had seen of him so far, he showed Pat all of it.

  Pat ran a finger over the watches in two of the drawers, telling him, “I bought my first decent watch when I was twenty-five. I was so proud.”

  “I’ve never bought myself anything. At least not with my own money.”

  “You will, baby, and when you do, it’ll mean more to you than anything you’ve ever been given.”

  Ian knew that would be true. “Well, until then, I need to figure out what to wear for the party. I really hate these parties.”

  “At least you’re allowed to bring Denny. Be glad of that.”

  “I am. I fully plan on grabbing him and heading off with the two of you to my secret places around here. There’s a part of the basement, closed off from the rest, and it’s where I’d play as a kid. It was just like some cave or dungeon.”

  Pat laughed and took his hand. “I can’t wait.”

  The bathroom was Ian’s favorite part of the suite. There was a long, cushioned bench in the center, a sunken tub to the right, a long counter with two bowl sinks to the left, and the end held a huge shower, which he pointed to. “That shower is awesome. Ten showerheads that were perfectly directed for my shape and height. It’s push button, so I never have to adjust it. It comes out to the temperature I like the best. It’s amazing.”

  “So, basically, I won’t fit.”

  “You’re not that much taller than me, Pat, and you’re wider, sure, but I’m sure we can manage. Besides, there’s always the tub, which we could both fit inside of nicely.”

  Pat stared over at the tub, grinning wickedly. “I think I’d prefer that.”

  When they were back in the sitting room, someone knocked, and Pat went to stand beside the door, doing his bodyguard duty. He opened the door to Ian’s mother.

  “Well, hello. Ian’s father told me he had security. You look up to the job,” she flirted, then turned and ignored him completely. “Ian, I’ll have Joseph come in later for your fitting. I’ve ordered you a new tuxedo for the party.”

  “It’s formal? Mother, can’t we simply have a few guests and some music?”

  The beautiful woman she was, her face seemed out of place as her jaw dropped in shock. “Ian Andrews, this is your graduation, not some square dance. We have high political officials coming, masters of commerce, the heads of the three largest companies in the states. We must keep up appearances, no matter how you’ve thought you wanted to live.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ian, really? Restoring houses? That’s not a fitting career for a man like yourself, with your lineage and background. I’m still hoping you’ll start to work with your father now that your oats are sewn. It’s time to be an adult.”

  Ian caught Pat rolling his eyes out of sight of his mother and smiled, barely stifling a giggle. “Mother, why can’t I do what I love?”

  “You’ve never heard of a hobby?”

  The smile was gone, and he started to seethe, but he was saved by his father coming through the door. “Marianne, are you at him already?”

  “Will you speak to your son?”

  “Sure,” Ian’s father said, nodding to his wife. “I was going to after dinner. I was letting him settle first.”

  “Fine. After dinner.” She stormed out, casting her husband a scathing look.

  Ian’s father watched her go, laughing. “She has the temper of an alley cat.”

  “Thank you. She’s on me again for my choice of career. I know you will be too, but I’m not changing my mind.”

  When his father looked over to Pat, Pat seemed to understand. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me.”

  Once he as gone, Ian pled, “I know the Grail expects me to do whatever they want me to, but can’t I do that on the side, and keep my chosen career?”

  Looking pained, Ian’s father said, “I’m trying to swing that. There are things coming that need all our attention, however. I’m not saying you can’t work on your restoration plans, Ian, but you may need to push them off for a bit.”

  “What’s this meeting about?”

  “It’s another meeting for those new to the Grail, and some that are lower level members as well. I won’t be there, nor will anyone under the seventh degree. I know some, but not a lot. We’re getting ready for what’s to come.”

  Ian’s temper broke and he gritted, “More cryptic shit! What’s coming, Father? Is it the fucking cul
ling?”

  Ian watched in awe as his father turned away from him, back stiffening, as he said, “I’ll see you in the study at eight-thirty, before dinner, Ian. Your driver will be here early in the morning, so be ready.”

  That answered it. If it wasn’t, he was sure his father would have said. When Pat reentered the room, Ian told him about the conversation. Pat sat on the couch and pulled him down with him. “Jesus, Ian. What the fuck is this culling? How many people are they planning to cull?”

  “Pat…you know I hate it here. You know I would rather be anywhere in the world right now except here, but…”

  “We’re not going anywhere. When Denny comes to the party, you pay him for the next couple months rent in advance. I’ll call my people, let them know. We’re staying here until he figure things out, Ian.”

  “Then, you’re scared too.”

  “No. I’m not. I know we’ll figure this out and I know you will stop it.”

  “Me?” Ian stared at him, though he felt his smile starting. “You really do have confidence in me.”

  “Of course, I do. Baby, it would have been the easiest thing in the world for you just to fall into line with this. This lifestyle is something that was all there was to you for a long time. You’re not only used to it, it was the way life was. To know that you could have this and more? Power on top of the money? You went to that cabin, crying, screaming, begging to be let out of it. You learned that there was more to life than power and money. You’re more remarkable than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  Ian’s heart swelled, but it was in competition of his emotions that were already churning, fear and anger. “I won’t believe any of that until this is over and the Grail is dead.”

  “I know. That’s another thing I love about you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The study was much the same as it always was, save the piles of furniture in the corner. Ian pointed to it and asked about it, and his father huffed, “Your mother says we need the room in the foyer for the guests to arrive. There will be a table and a box for people to deposit your gifts.”

  “This is more than from the foyer.”

  “Don’t get me started, Ian,” he said with his hand up, palm out to him. “Anyway, before dinner, I wanted to let you know about tomorrow. As I said, I am not privy to everything they’ll say to you, but being I’ve been a first degree and being that I know what’s coming down the line, I can make an educated guess.”

  “Good. Please, Father, tell me.”

  They sat in the chairs nearest the window, barely avoiding the stacks of chairs and tables that had been deposited there.

  His father absently plucked lint from his pantleg while staying silent. Ian wanted to push, but he could hear Pat in his ear, like he was a ghost there with him. Let him get to it in his own time. Be patient.

  Ian didn’t have a lot of patience, but he was learning. Sure enough, the little Pat voice in his head was right. Ian’s father spoke.

  “Ian, the Grail isn’t innocent of doing truly evil things. You know this, if you’ve studied what I gave you.”

  “I studied it. I didn’t like what I read. Didn’t like it a bit, Father. Playing god, who lives and dies, who is powerful, who serves?”

  As his father’s jaw clenched, he knew he should shut up, again, Pat’s voice in his head, worried. “Sorry, Father. I guess I’m still wrapping my head around things.”

  “Ian, you cannot show them this attitude of yours. Of course, we all get our time to understand things, and leave…leave our humanity behind to do what’s…best for the Grail. Your time is running out, Ian. So far, not many know of your feelings, but some do.”

  “You know. Are you one of them? Are you going to kill me if I don’t fall into line, Father?”

  Without an answer, Ian Junior stood and reminded him, “Dinner should be served soon. Your mother made sure to tell cook to make all your favorites.”

  “She doesn’t know my favorites anymore,” Ian informed him as he rose from the chair and looked over at the painting. “How’s James Kent, Father?”

  A markedly pained expression crossed his father’s face for a split second, then was gone, replaced with a furious scowl. “How the hell do you expect, Ian?” After his father stormed out of the study, Ian did the same, heading for his suite.

  When they went to dinner, Ian was the one pained, having to sit at the long dining table without Pat. Like the other servants, Pat would be in the kitchen, dining on a different meal than what they were having.

  They wouldn’t get the lobster bisque, the lobster flown in that afternoon from Maine. They wouldn’t eat the pheasant croquets with white truffles and dill sauce, or the baby squid with orange salsa.

  Not that they were served ramen noodles and burnt toast, but it was nothing how the Andrews dined.

  Ian had loved these foods before, before he’d gotten out of the life of the rich and not famous. Since he’d left, he salivated for things that Ian and Marianne Andrews had likely never heard about, like he hadn’t.

  They ate mostly in silence except when Marianne started giving them a few details about the party. She didn’t speak much, though, seeming to sense the tone of the room. The tie was off, and jacket gone the moment dinner was over and he was allowed to escape to his suite. Before he could send the text he’d typed out, Pat was there, and Ian was raging at him.

  “This is why I left! I hate it here, and their bullshit pretention. My mother, serving that food, my father not saying a word through dinner, staring at her, then at me, then her again!”

  Pat stopped him with a hard kiss, then he drew Ian to him. “Ian, stop. Just stop.”

  He clutched at Pat, wanting to beg him to take Ian to bed, to fuck the worry out of him.

  “Baby, nothing right now. Blank all that out of your head. You need to push it all away right now.”

  That seemed impossible, but he forgot for a moment how Pat seemed to be able to do the impossible. Ten minutes in the man’s arms, and there was nothing and no one else in the entire world.

  Pat led him to the bedroom and together they lay on the huge bed, that even dwarfed Pat’s huge frame. They were surrounded in a cloud of comfort, he was in strong, sure arms and the rest of the world was far away.

  “Pat, what can we do, me and you, to just be together? I know the reason Javi hasn’t come up with a plan to fake my death. It can’t be done. Not to the satisfaction of the Grail.”

  “That’s not it at all, baby. If Javi set his mind to it, he could shoot someone else right in front of every single one of the Grails and convince them it was you. I think he wants to try another way, because once you give up your life, on the run, pretending to be dead, any of it, you’re giving up people, dreams, plans and everything else you’ve held to your heart. Give him a little more time. We’ve only begun to try to stop them.”

  “What if I don’t have it in me? I’m not like you guys. I haven’t seen terrible things and beaten terrible people. All I’ve done is be pampered all my life.”

  Pat turned them to face each other and he grabbed Ian’s face roughly. “What did I say? I told you that I see you. I see things in you that you don’t see. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think, Ian. Tougher too. I’d put you up against anyone.”

  Taking his hand away as Ian started to smile, Pat waited until Ian was able to say, “I’d put me up against you right now.”

  “Slut.”

  He was ready when the car took him to the airport the next day. Leaving Pat back at his parents’ house wasn’t easy, although Pat assured him he’d be fine. He wanted to get to know the staff, see what he could find out from them. They had non-disclosure forms in the study ready for the signing by anyone who walked into the place, let alone working there. Ian was shocked when Pat hadn’t been forced to sign one yet.

  When they landed, the few on the plane were driven to yet another building he’d never seen before. He watched out of the window, trying to remember the way so he could tell
Javi later. Another building, another stronghold of the Grail’s power.

  How many were there? How much money did they have? How many powerful men and women did they have power over? It not only boggled his mind, but it infuriated him. No one person or organization should have all that power.

  In the meeting, at another table, this one oval, long and surrounded by more pictures of those that came before, he listened as his blood curdled and his stomach clenched.

  The same pinch-faced man that had watched over him as they poured snakes into the box with him during his initiation. He smiled around the table at all those, like Ian, who were newer to the Grail.

  “You’re a lucky bunch. I am envious of you all. When I was inducted into the Gilded Grail, we were already on top, running the world. The cocaine flowed to those who thought they had power, allowing us to push them easily which way we wanted them to go. The eighties, yes, I’m much older than you young Grails. You’re on the precipice of a challenge, of watching the world start anew, with you on top.”

  Ian didn’t move, but he wanted to get up and run, not hear what the psycho had to say.

  “While you are not high enough in degrees to know the whole plan as yet, you all will have important parts to play.”

  Glad he wasn’t the one who asked, Ian turned as another man about his age sat forward some, keeping his deep brown eyes down on the surface of the table, like he was reverent of the pinched asshole. “Sir…is this…is this the culling?”

  Ian’s head whipped back in time to see him smile. “Aw, Fred, you’ve been studying. Fred is our fourth degree, for those who do not know him. The only fourth from that time. We unfortunately lost two in a tragic accident, then of course, the sacrifice.”

  “So, it’s true?”

  “Yes, Fred. This is the culling. In the weeks to come you will each be given assignments to find ways to blend in a certain populace. Once in, you will study them, make notes, let us know where and when the culling should begin.”

  “Weeks?” Ian couldn’t help himself. Pat told him over and over to be quiet during the meetings, but the question came out before he could stop himself. “It’s happening…that fast?”