04 New Deals
Two hours ago she couldn’t pick out which fork to use with the entree.
An hour ago she walked into the lair of a very powerful man who happened to be a vampire and played her part like she was born to it.
She was easily the most fascinating woman he had ever met and his life was thick with fascinating people.
“I need my gear and he wants to see the place,” Ophilia said into her phone. “I don’t know . . . but he said he might be able to help with the tax situation . . . No, I need your help to keep everyone calm . . . well, then maybe you should take a deep breath and relax.”
They stood in front of an iron wrought gate, slightly rusted that hung askew between two brick columns topped with ornate stone globes. The walls that stretched into the darkness on either side stood at least four meters tall. Beyond the gate, a worn, gravel road wound up to a huge, multi level building that was tucked up against the mountain and completely shrouded in darkness.
Adam walked to the gate and looked up at the structure. Starlight barely illuminated the strange lines of the building. It was old. Early twentieth century. And huge. Two wings extended from a central structure that almost had the shape of a cathedral with tall spires and sweeping accents. The wings fell away from the center building almost as an afterthought. A mish-mash of styles, he wondered who the architect had been. Or even if there was one.
“Honi, you are being difficult. I shouldn’t have even called to warn you but I need you to keep it together.”
Adam’s implant buzzed. It was subdermal, just behind his left ear. A text message scrolled along the bottom of his field of vision.
Second location clear.
He pulled out his phone and texted “Understood” in response. He could pull up a floating keyboard within the display that his contacts provided but his phone was still faster and the keyboard image hovering in space before him gave him vertigo.
But while the display was up and his night vision was ruined anyway, he typed in a quick search.
Divinity Institute for the Criminally Insane. Formerly The Morrison Crow Hotel and Resort. He was shocked at the lack of information on the property which probably indicated that some pretty dark money had paid for it at some point. His online resources ran deeper than most and he could only trace the ownership back to the sixties and then up to about twenty years ago when the last real owner died without an heir. That left the property in limbo and the taxes unpaid. The property sat a short distance outside of the city limits but if he followed a municipal rabbit hole or two, he found proposals to annex the property. He would have to interfere with that.
“So what’s with your eyes?” she asked.
Sloppy. He was lost in tax records and owners of neighboring properties and hadn’t noticed that she had finished her call.
What to do? Be honest?
Maybe. This time.
“I have an implant,” he said. “It’s basically a data cellular connection that displays on special contacts on my eyes.”
“So you’re online all the time.”
“Basically.”
She crossed her arms. “That’s a bit ahead of the current tech curve.”
“Not as much as you might think.”
She took a step toward him with her arms still crossed. “That’s a juicy little detail. Are you trying to indicate in a very subtle fashion that you want to trust me?”
He stepped towards her. “I want to, yes.”
“How do you know about Serita?” she said. An interesting conversational ambush if not a bit clumsy in the execution. But perhaps she expected a facial tick or a fleeting expression.
“I’m not sure I fully do,” he said. More honesty. “A third party made me aware of the situation. The party would not explain why she was important but explained that you would be concerned. And I’ve had you under surveillance for some time.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I have video of your fight with Frank’s thugs. You have unique abilities and I am always interested in people with unique abilities. Especially when it comes to dealing with the paranormal.”
“So you took the consulting job just to watch me?”
“I saw the posting and took the opportunity,” he said. “How long did you plan to drag that out?”
Ophelia threw her arms down in frustration and turned away. “I went too long. But it was going so good.”
“What was the plan?”
“Originally?” she asked. “Get a couple of paychecks and maybe scope out a possible heist. But the bonus on the current project would have handled a lot of the back taxes. My friend built the identity and a resume.”
“Norman?”
She spun to face him again, obviously annoyed. “Yes, Norman.” she said after a moment.
He nodded. “That young man has skills.”
“And you have a fuck-ton of information that no one is suppose to have.” Her eyes glistened with menace. “A metric fuck-ton.” She stepped closer. Thin lines of neon traced up the sides of her arms and legs like circuits across a motherboard. The effect was spectacular, mesmerizing in the darkness. None of the reports could confirm where she got her strength or speed or whether it was some form of technology or supernatural in origin. But she could call it at will and she became deadly when it was active.
“Wait,” he said, holding a hand up. “The explanation is fairly simple.”
She paused, her feet half a step out of a fighting stance.
He took a deep breath. “I had my associate under surveillance. When he started having extra dealings with Frank, I upped my surveillance on Frank. That’s when I caught your fight with his thugs. It was rather impressive. So I had to put you under surveillance.”
The lights slowly faded and she relaxed slightly.
“Understand,” he continued. “Your cover is very good. Almost waterproof. But once I had your image, running facial recognition through video surveillance from stop light cameras was simple. And then when you got a job at the company it made things even easier. The reason I know about Norman is that he left his tag in the code that you loaded on the servers. Ten minutes on a couple of popular hacker sites and I had him.”
Ophelia’s shoulders slumped slightly but she recovered quickly. “That little shit,” she hissed.
“Now, I had no intention of blowing our covers. I watch. Rarely do I interfere. But yesterday, the third party that I mentioned contacted me and said that this Serita was missing and that you would be concerned. I wasn’t sure what to do with that information but I thought that dinner would be a good place to discuss things if we needed to. But the information that connected Frank, Serita and my associate didn’t click together until we were on your doorstep. It occurred to me to ask for help grilling Frank but in hindsight, I should have been up front about Serita. And for that I apologize. But I am improvising tonight way more than I normally would. I usually play a longer game.”
Ophelia put her fists on her hips, her features mostly obscured by shadow. But the tension in her stance slowly eased. “Okay,” she said, finally. “Fine.”
He stepped forward and she instinctively took a step back. “No, it’s not fine,” he said. “Your cover was almost waterproof. My cover is waterproof. The fact that a third party could contact me through a very interesting channel and know that I know about you and that you would be worried about Serita is troublesome. To say the least.”
“Well, welcome to my weird little world,” she said with a slow smile that was quickly lost in a frown. “Wait, were you surfing the internet during dinner?” Her eyes suddenly widened “Were you surfing the internet while you were kissing me?”
He blinked. And then blinked again. “No, I was not surfing. But yes I was getting messages.”
“Asshole!”
“What does that have to do-”
Third location clear.
He stopped and lifted his hands. “Look, we don’t have time for too many details at the moment. The third location is clear. That leaves two more.”
She turned and looked at the gate and then lifted her eyes to the sky. She slowly turned as she dropped her gaze to him. “This deal is only for tonight. Tomorrow, new deal.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Agreed,” she repeated.
“But I want to see inside tonight.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “And we have time for this?” she asked.
“We can leave the minute you have your gear and my team gets a location. But, yes I need to see inside.”
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“I want to meet your crew.”
“My crew?” Ophelia smiled again and it beamed with mischief as she slowly backed toward the gate. “Of course you do. And how much weird can you handle, Mr. Trajan?”
“A lot, Miss Goodfellow.”
She turned and pushed the tilted gate back and stepped through the space between. Then she tiptoed across the gravel to the grass where she slipped off her heels and let them dangle from the straps.
“Coming?” she asked.
He felt . . . some concern. Suddenly. Not fear. Or trepidation. Just concern. The huge dark building loomed before them beneath a dark, star riddled sky and on the edge of a sea of shadows. It even felt abandoned and empty at this distance. She could kill him and not even hide the body. She could just leave it in the overgrown grounds and let it rot. Especially since he had location services turned off on his phone and his implant. He didn’t need anyone knowing about this place. Not yet.
He had to go though. He had a suspicion and he needed verification.
Adam stepped through the gate and caught up to her. She was still smiling.
“I can hold your hand if you're scared,” she whispered.
He slid his hand into hers, interlacing their fingers like a smitten couple. Her eyes widened and the smile slipped away.
“You offered,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed but she pulled him along, across a space of tall dead grass and onto a trail that led into a stand of trees. Her pace was confident and the shadows under the canopy lay inky black so he had no choice but to follow her lead.
“Why is Serita important?” he asked. The trail was not obvious but seemed to be clear of stone and root.
Ophelia made a dismissive sound through her teeth. “Talk about not having time to explain. Watch your head.”
He ducked under the low branch. The trail bent toward the east wing of the building.
“What’s the short version?”
“We found her about two years ago and tried to take her in but she prefers to be on the street. Honestly, I have no idea what she is. Someone told me she was important just like they told you. But I will tell you that she radiates innocence and power and you either want to protect her or consume her. It’s interesting the different reactions she can get.”
“She lives on the street?”
“I can’t force her to live with us. And she has more than a few people interested in her well being. Normally, Big Tony keeps an eye on her but obviously he screwed up.”
“Wait. Big Tony? As in Big Tony Torelles? He was one of Frank’s thugs until he disappeared some time ago. Frank is still mad about it.”
She glanced back at him. “There are a lot of ways to disappear,” she said. “You know, Frank is a very organized criminal. Is that your world?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “Not even a little bit.”
“At least a little bit,” she scoffed.
“Only so much so that I can keep an eye on him.”
“Whatever.”
“I do not work with Frank.”
Her bare feet and a lack of light did not slow her down. She rounded a particularly large oak and pulled them into a cloud of dancing points of light that swooped and swirled trailing green and gold.
“Shit,” she breathed. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“Fireflies,” he said. “I haven’t seen fireflies in years.”
“Those aren’t fireflies. Don’t look at them and don’t follow them.”
“What?” he heard himself say. His mind fell into darkness, empty and blank. But fireflies! He chased them as a boy outside his father’s lake house. Chased them. He could chase them again.
Again.
The lake lay still, mirrorlike, reflecting a thousand shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped below a dark horizon. As the light faded the fireflies appeared, green and gold.
“Here you go, son,” his father said and passed down a jar with a lid. “Catch a few.” He walked on and out onto the narrow dock that stretched onto the lake. He dressed casually in simple pants and an untucked button-down shirt and sandals. He only dressed like that at the lake house.
Catch a few.
He tried. And he tried. Until his knees were skinned up and he had pine needles in his hair from valiant attempts to dive and catch just one. But he couldn’t. They swooped and swirled, always inches out of reach. Never the same pattern. Never the same position. A constantly evolving web of light.
It was impossible.
He looked down at the empty jar and then up at the silhouette of his father on the docks. A lump formed in his throat.
He had tried. But now the fireflies flew high out of reach. He had failed.
Adam slowly walked to the dock. He wanted to run away. He wanted his mother. Her smile and laugh danced across a memory and he thought he smelled her perfume on the night air. But she was gone. She was dead.
His father turned.
“Did you catch one?” he asked, hands in pockets, disappointment already etched deep on his face around a dark, close cropped beard.
Adam looked down at the empty jar in his hands, tears filling his eyes.
“Not even one, eh?”
Adam looked up. His father transformed. His beard went gray along with his hair. His casual clothes morphed into his ever present black three piece suit and blood red tie. The dock unfolded to a black marble tiled floor. The disappointment in his face remained.
“Not even one.”
Adam now stood tall enough to meet him eye to eye.
Which he did. And he lied.
“Not even one,” he said.
The fireflies descended from the dark ceiling and formed a cloud around him as the floor dropped away and his father faded away. He floated within their soft illumination, watching the patterns. Because there was a pattern. It wasn’t random. He had to watch it with the back of his mind. He had to let his instincts guide him more than logic. And there it was. Or there they were. Painfully obvious once noticed.
His father had told him to find them.
And he did.
And now his father never would.
He could stay here. And enjoy the pattern. Lose himself in the obvious.
Except for that voice. Screaming-.
“Adam!”
She had him by the front of his shirt, dragging him through the clearing away from the fireflies.
“Stop it!” she screamed and the lights danced away. “Stop it right now or swear I will be back out here with a bug zapper tonight! You hear me?”
He struggled against her grip and tried to turn back to the fireflies. He would find a jar and watch them glow.
Ophelia slapped him hard.
“Adam,” she snarled. “Snap out of it!”
His face stung. He blinked and he was looking into the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She looked very angry but her brows knit together over sky bright blue eyes in deep concern.
Fourth location clear.
Reality slammed back into his brain like a hangover. Ophelia wound up to slap him again but he stepped in and blocked her swing.
“I’m good,” he stammered. “I’m good, I think”
He took deep breaths, focusing on the sting of his cheek. The fog over his brain slowly settled to a low, dull ache at the base of his skull. Annoying but tolerable.
“That was . . . odd,” he said.
“You wanted to say ‘weird’,” she said.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. But that’s an impressive security system. Perhaps that’s why no one bothers you out here.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” Then she took his hand and led him through the shadows.
A minute or so later they found the foot of a winding stone stair that ascended from the forest to the east wing.
Confirming fifth location.
Adam pulled his phone out and texted “Understood” in response as they mounted the impressive stairs.
“So if you don’t work for Frank then who do you work for?” Ophelia asked.
Casual. Meant to catch him off guard while he was distracted.
“I don’t really work for anyone.” A lie. “I observe and I rarely interfere.”
“Do you report?” she countered.
Insightful and subtle. “Only when necessary.”
They reached the top of the stairs and the east wing loomed above them dark and empty. Twelve stories of empty windows glared at them. They could walk forward and in a dozen or so meters they would be at the elegant entrance carved into the front corner of the east wing. To their right, stairs descended to multiple landings that would eventually arrive at the paved drive that arced in front of the building. The remains of wooden deck chairs and tattered umbrellas littered each landing.
To their left, another set of stairs dropped into darkness toward the base of the building and several outbuildings. Ophelia leaned against the ornate stone railing, dusting off her feet and slipping back into her heels. She stood up and smoothed out her dress, her eyes fixed on him and shining in the starlight.
“You good?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” he said.
“Last chance,” she said. “Tell me where she is and I’ll take you back to your car. You’ve seen some weird shit but you can go to sleep tonight and it will all be a distant memory in the morning. And you’ll never have to see me again.”
Never have to see me again. That hit him low in the gut in a place he couldn’t have anticipated. He would have to analyze that feeling later and contemplate the risk of feeling that feeling for this woman who was changing everything.
“If you go through with this,” she continued, pulling the thought from his still sore head. “Nothing will ever be the same.”
Too late.
Adam stepped towards her. He tried to make it casual and cool but he was pretty sure he failed.
“So I’m assuming you have something better than soul sucking fireflies for me?” he said.
Ophelia suppressed a smile as she stepped to meet him. Casual and cool.
“These people,” she began. “Are dangerous and powerful. I do the things that I do so that they don’t have to do the things they can do. I would recommend a measure of respect.”
She was very close and she studied him. Perhaps looking for fear or hesitation. And then she struck, kissing him deeply and he let her. He indulged even and the kiss pulled at that place she had punched earlier. He would have to analyze that later but then she pulled away and he locked himself down to prevent himself from reaching for her.
“Know what that was,” she asked.
“A kiss goodbye?”
She nodded. “Just in case.”
