The Other Side Of Midnight

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The Other Side Of Midnight Page 22

by Georgia Le Carre


  I exhale loudly. “Holy hell, that’s one conspiracy theory I always thought was one of the craziest. What’s their big plan for humanity, then?”

  His eyes turn bleak. “There is nothing you can do to change their plans. Telling you about them will only sadden you.”

  “So that’s another dead end.” I pause and swallow hard. “Can you not sometimes come and see me in Martha’s Vineyard, or wherever it is I will be living?”

  He turns on his side and faces me. “No, Autumn,” he murmurs gently. “Once you leave here we can never again meet. Even if by chance you see me somewhere you must pretend you do not know me.”

  “I find it impossible that I will never see you again. You are a part of me.” I cry. “I feel so cheated. I would have done anything, gone anywhere, given up everything for you, but how can I give away the lives of other humans without living in guilt for eternity?”

  “We have two whole days left, let’s make the most of it, no more talk about how sad and lonely life will be once we part. The decision is made and it is a good one. Now, what do you want to do tomorrow?” His conviction is firm, strong, and he seems utterly convinced of the rightness of my decision.

  “I want to go to The Parallel,” I say slowly.

  “Why?”

  “I want to know what life is like for them. Will you take me?”

  “I haven’t been to it since I met Polly, but I will take you there tomorrow night if that’s what you want.”

  “Yes, that’s what I want.”

  “What do you want to do in the morning?”

  “Breakfast in bed, then we’re making love for hours, and after that I’m going to finish my painting of you. It’s my gift to you.”

  “That sounds like a very good plan, but it’s not tomorrow yet and there is so much I want to do to you,” he murmurs, swooping down to take my nipple in his mouth.

  Chapter 61

  Autumn

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_zHQ6kFuQ0

  -The Power Of Love-

  Out of habit I wake up at my usual time, but in foreign surroundings. However, there is no moment when I feel disorientated. I know exactly where I am. In Rocco’s bed. And I am not alone. I turn my head slowly and look at him. His face is turned towards me, but his beautiful eyes are closed in sleep. I stare at him in the gloom. His breathing is so slight it is almost undetectable. With his golden hair, flawless skin, and perfect features, he looks like an angel.

  But he is a vampire. A living, breathing vampire. But one that doesn’t hurt humans.

  I feel a great sadness descend on me. There is today and there is tomorrow, then I will never see him again. I bite my lip at the terrible pain the thought causes me. I tell myself, I will have my whole life to be sad about losing him, but today and tomorrow I will live more intensely than I have ever before. I will treasure every second, and hoard it away in my head. Never to forget.

  As quietly as I can I start to move away. As soon as I do, his eyes open. There is no sleepiness in them. They are as clear and as blue as they always are.

  “Good morning,” I greet, reaching out to touch his red lips.

  “Where are you going?” he murmurs.

  “I have to make some calls, then I’m getting us breakfast in bed,” I say with a soft smile.

  “Breakfast in bed? I’ve never had that.”

  “Well, that’s what you’re getting today.”

  He smiles and there is regret in his eyes, but all he says is, “Hurry up then. I’ve got a surprise for you after breakfast.”

  I pop a kiss on his mouth and jump out of the deliciously warm bed.

  He gets on his elbow, and drawls, “Come back fast, Sexy.”

  God, I love him so much, it actually makes my stomach clench. I grin at him. “You can bet on that.”

  I pull on his shirt, button up, and run downstairs where I find William coming in from the foyer.

  “Good morning, Miss Delaney,” he greets crisply.

  “Good morning, William. I wonder if it would be possible for me to take a breakfast tray upstairs?”

  “I can send a tray up to you,” he suggests.

  “Well, can it be sent up to Rocco’s bedroom?”

  “Of course. What would you like?”

  “Whatever Rocco usually has for breakfast and for me, a toasted bacon sandwich and a glass of orange juice please.”

  He nods. “I will bring it up as soon as it is ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walks away and I run into the study where I had left my purse last night. I dig out my cell phone and call Brianna. She always starts early at the bakery and I know her days off are Monday.

  “What’s up, babe?” she says.

  “Hiya. Listen, remember how you said you were sick of the smell of vanilla and cinnamon and you wished you could work somewhere glamorous, like a gallery instead? You still think that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Something’s come up and I have to leave Hunter’s Cross for good so I was wondering if you want my job.”

  “Oh my God, yes. I do,” she says immediately.

  “Great. Let me talk to Larry and get back to you.”

  “Autumn, is everything okay with you?”

  “Yeah, everything is just fine. I’ll phone back once I’ve spoken to Larry.”

  I then call Larry.

  “Autumn?” he asks in an oddly husky, sleepy voice.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Look, I’m really sorry, but after what happened last night I’m too afraid to come back to work. I’m actually going to leave Hunter’s Cross.”

  “What?” His voice loses its drowsy, dreamy quality. “You’re not coming back?”

  “No. I’m really, really sorry about the short notice, but the good news is I’m not leaving you in the lurch. Brianna, the girl who works at the bakery, is more than happy to step into my shoes.”

  “That blonde girl from the bakery?”

  “Yup. That’s her.”

  “Hmmm… yeah. Okay. Ask her to give me a call and I’ll set an interview up today. Now what about all your stuff? You have all your things in the backroom, right?”

  “I only want the painting of the castle and the big white box with the green dress in it. I’ll send someone to pick them up this evening. The rest Brianna can have or she can just bin it.”

  “Where is the painting and the white box?”

  The painting is leaning against the wall on the right of the backroom, and the box with the dress is in the cupboard by the sink. Thanks so much, Larry, I’m really sorry to do this to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s been hell for you, first with Sam’s accident, and then the shock of those men looking for you last night. Have you figured out what they wanted?”

  “No,” I say, and wince. I hate lying to Larry. He’s been really good to me.

  “I’ll miss you, Autumn. You’ve been one of the best staff I’ve ever had.”

  “I’ll miss you too,” I say, and my voice sounds as small as a child’s.

  “Keep in touch, huh? Let me know where you go and if you are okay.”

  “Goodbye, Larry.”

  “Take care, Autumn.”

  I end the call and stare out of the window. One by one all my bridges were being burned. Then I left the study and went upstairs. Rocco and I have a large breakfast, and I lie back and enjoy my surprise. Afterwards, we go downstairs and I paint him until lunch. After lunch I go back to working on my painting. By tomorrow I will be finished. We have an early dinner then we set off for the Parallel.

  Chapter 62

  Autumn

  The Parallel is located in a desert in Utah, right in the middle of nowhere. We fly to a private airport a few miles away then drive to it. At a certain point down a deserted road, Rocco turns into a narrow road marked Private No Trespassing. A few minutes on the bumpy dirt path and I see a structure rising from the horizon like a dark shape. But as we get closer, the car’s headlights show it to be an aba
ndoned, dilapidated farmhouse. I had imagined the entrance into another world with electric fences and armed guards.

  “This is it?” I whisper.

  “This is it,” he echoes. “The best way to hide a secret is in plain sight.” He opens the car door and gets out and I follow him. The air smells dry. We go into the house and it is in total darkness, but it would appear Rocco can see in the dark because he takes my hand and walks confidently into the inky blackness. Somewhere inside the house, on the ground floor, he opens a trap door that leads to the cellar of the house. We climb down the steps into an area that is even more frighteningly dark. Here not even the shapes of objects will detach themselves from the darkness. It is also very cold. I switch on the torch on my phone and find Rocco pulling what seems to be a false wall aside. It reveals a metal door. He puts a key into the door and it opens into another room fashioned from wooden panels. There are two wooden boxes on the floor.

  He walks to the west wall, pushes the panels in a certain pattern, and part of the wall slides away to reveal what looks like elevator doors. I look at the boxes.

  “What’s in them?”

  “Treasure. If someone gets as far as this room, the gold and silver will distract them and stop them from searching further,” he replies, as his fingers move quickly over the keypad by the side of the doors.

  The doors open and we step into a metal pod. The doors close soundlessly. I don’t know what I thought, but it seems only seconds pass, before the doors swish open to a marble room full of light. I look at Rocco in astonishment. “I thought you said we are miles deep.”

  “We are. The system is built with technology still undiscovered by the humans currently inhabiting earth. Remember, we have lived through many planetary destructions and during some of those civilizations ancient humans rose to greater heights than they enjoy now.”

  He takes my hand and I follow him. We go out of the marble room into a beautiful house. There are servants walking about and they greet us politely, showing no surprise at our presence. I feel instantly that there is something… off about them. I cannot put my finger on it, but something is wrong.

  We leave the house and go out into a sort of Japanese garden. Made out of small, perfectly raked white stones and a few well-placed brown rocks. There is a bridge and a pretty fountain that makes a soothing noise. I notice that the air is not cold, but just warm enough for me to be comfortable. It also feels clean and fresh, as if mountain air is being piped into this space.

  We get to a street with rows of shops on either side of it. Everything is so clean and pretty. There are no cars, but lots of bicycles and a kind of tram on rails goes past us. We meet people who immediately smile and wish us a good evening, but again I have the same sense of disquiet that there is something not right about them. And it’s not the ubiquitous leather anklets the women wear, or the leather bracelets the men sport. It is more profound than that.

  They seem to be without depth, like NCPs in a video game.

  There are no annoying traffic noises, no dirt anywhere, or people behaving badly, but there is such a cardboard quality to the order and tidiness that I can’t help feeling as if I am taking a tour of a fake town built in a movie studio. A woman carrying her small child approaches us from the opposite direction. I see her glance at Rocco, and a flash of fear passes in her eyes. Then she quickly schools her face, and with a smile wishes us good evening. As she hurries past us, I notice she clutches her child closer to her body.

  “Want to have a drink? They made good margaritas when I used to come here,” Rocco says, pointing towards a bar. Music is coming from it. I recognize it to be a track from the seventies.

  Feeling bemused, I nod, and we walk over to it.

  Inside, it is clean and pretty. There are people seated at the tables. There is no one talking loudly, laughing or looking like they may have had too much. When we walk up to the bar, the barman smiles at Rocco. Even though it is a small community where everyone must know everyone, and Rocco and I are clearly strangers, the barman displays more NCP behavior. He shows neither surprise nor curiosity and instead utters the line he must have uttered thousands of times before.

  “What can I get you, Sir?”

  “Two margaritas.”

  The barman nods. “Two margaritas coming up.” He turns away to begin making them. I look around me and to my surprise I see a riot of red curls. My heart stops. Sam! Then she stands and I see that it is not Sam. Of course, it isn’t. Her friend stands too and they start to make their way towards a sign that says, restrooms. And I suddenly realize she is not wearing a leather anklet or bracelet.

  I look at Rocco. “I need to use the restrooms.”

  It is as if he can read my mind because he frowns. “There are hidden cameras everywhere so be careful what you say to anyone.”

  I nod, and follow the girls. When I open the door to the restroom, the other girl is in one of the cubicles and only the redhead is at the mirror. Her eyes slide over to me.

  “Good evening,” she says, smoothing down her unruly red curls. Now that I am so close I can see she looks nothing like Sam, even so, I feel close to her. A desire to protect her fills my chest. She must be about the same age as me.

  “Good evening,” I reply, and pretend to check my appearance in the mirror.

  “Are you from one of the other settlements?” she asks curiously. In her eyes I see the lively spark that is missing from all the other inhabitants of The Parallel.

  It’s just a small white lie, and it slips out easily. “Yes.”

  She pulls out a tube of lip gloss. “Which one?”

  “Where’s your bracelet?” I blurt out suddenly.

  She stops and turns towards me. If I had said something that was intrusive and tactless to a total stranger on the surface, they would have turned around and told me to damn well mind my own business, but she doesn’t.

  “It didn’t suit this dress so I left it at home,” she explains politely.

  The door of the cubicle opens and her friend comes out. She takes one look at me and steps back in fear. Her eyes dart to her friend, then back at me. “Look,” she says. “We want no trouble. I’ve just had a baby and April has sick parents she has to take care of.”

  “It’s all right, Daphne, she’s from one of the other settlements,” the redhead says, frowning at her.

  “No, she isn’t. I saw her come in with one of them.”

  The redhead’s eyes widen and her face becomes pale.

  I place my forefinger on my lips to indicate they should remain silent, and walk up to April. I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Always wear your leather bracelet. Tell everyone that. It is how they choose who is next to be taken away.”

  She nods dumbly, her green eyes shocked.

  I smile at her, then I go out of the restroom. In the bar, I see Rocco standing by the bar where I left him. His eyes meet mine. “Let’s go,” I mouth at him.

  He stands and comes over to me, and we leave the Parallel immediately.

  Chapter 63

  Autumn

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YrsH5hT4yM

  -You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me-

  The night flies in a daze of desire and pleasure, and before I know it dawn is already in the sky. This will be my last full day with Rocco. Tomorrow evening, after the sun goes down, I will be leaving. I look into Rocco’s marvelous eyes and I want to cry with sadness. I don’t know how I will be able to walk away. During the night, I’d dreamed I said yes to him. He grew fangs and bit into my neck and then all his family gathered around and bit me too. It was horrible, and I woke with a start.

  “What’s the matter?” he whispered in the dark. It never failed to surprise me how quickly he awakened at the slightest movement or sound.

  “Just a dream,” I whispered back, and kissed him.

  He wrapped his arms around me and I lost myself in the taste of him. Soon this will be no more, a voice said in my head. Greedily, I sucked on his lower lip.
<
br />   Now I stare into his eyes in the faint light of the dawning day. “It’s my last full day with you.”

  Something flashes in his eyes, but so fast I do not catch it. “What do you want to do?” he asks.

  My painting is nearly finished. The last few strokes I intend to execute tomorrow morning. “Well, if Raoul can go collect some stuff from my caravan for me, I want to stay in bed all day with you, go downstairs for a lovely dinner, then fall back into bed with a bottle of champagne.”

  “That can easily be arranged, Princess,” he says with a heartbreaking smile.

  So that is what we do. I send Raoul to collect my stuff and also put a note in through Zelena’s door. She is a kind soul who helped in a time I was in a terrible state and I didn’t want to abandon her without saying goodbye.

  Then I get back into bed. For lunch we have a large perfectly cooked Spanish omelet. Rocco opens a vintage bottle of champagne. The alcohol fizzles in my veins as I lie back on the bed, my legs splayed open, and Rocco splashes freezing bubbly wine between my legs and eats me out.

  I giggle until I giggle no more.

  That evening I decide to wear my green dress to dinner. I wash and dry my hair so it falls in waves down one side of my neck, and apply some lipstick and mascara, then I get into the beautiful dress carefully.

  I cry a little when I see myself in the mirror. I don’t know where she is, or if she can see me, but I whisper, “I’ll always love you.”

  Outside the wind howls like a wolf. I walk towards the window and see my own reflection in the glass. I still remember my first night here, and the waif who had warned me to leave before it’s too late.

 

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