The number of the side of the elevator ticked down to our floor. My reflection on the stainless steel doors stared back at me. I combed away strands of hair, the same color as the glass of julep, straying in front of my blue eyes. I blinked. My reflection did the same. I tensed my cheeks, highlighting the outline of my square solid jaws.
I’m majorly handsome, I thought with a smirk.
I could be on a magazine cover with my Sidekicks beside me. I found this bizarre turn of events entertaining, even as my stomach churned with nervousness—a weird way of coping. A dimple revealed itself when the right tip of my lips rose in a half-smile.
Erind didn’t have dimples. I fully grinned, discovering more dimples on both cheeks. Cute and handsome.
In my next run as Domino—assuming there was a next time—I should try being a guy after figuring out how my powers worked. I got two confirmed already without knowing how to trigger them or how long they lasted. Might be interesting to be a guy.
This is what I’m thinking about? I rolled my eyes at my reflection.
I got confirmation that at least one of the 2Ms was on this ship, and I was focused on dimples? I smiled again. Sure, I guess. Whatever to distract myself from the overwhelming fear that I was trapped on a ship with criminals who had tried to kill me several times before.
“Why are you smiling?” asked Whiny Sidekick.
“Nothing, bro,” I gruffly replied, trying to sound manly.
Bro? I didn’t know their real names. But people typically didn’t mention each other’s names during a conversation. I probably didn’t need to speak like a demon with the flu, either. These two didn’t comment on anything odd when I spoke earlier. Just as they saw me as Jeffrey, they could probably only hear his voice.
“He’s thinking about the glasses girl,” said Backup Sidekick. He nodded at my reflection. “I immediately knew she was your type. What’s her name, Jeff? Got her number?”
“She’s called Domino,” I replied in my normal voice, warily eyeing their reflections. No reaction. “She wouldn’t tell me her surname. And I didn’t get her number. I tried, but she was shy.”
“Shy? Yeah, right. Did she bail after you asked for it? Is your magic not working?
“She had to go somewhere. I didn’t have enough time for my magic to do its… magic.”
“Excuses, man.”
“It’s already past midnight, you know? She was exploring the ship, not really out for a drink. We’ll run into each other again.”
The elevator doors opened. I entered first, not only because Jeffrey seemed to be their group leader but so that I could stand at the back. The Sidekicks would have to stay by the door, or no one would push the buttons—I didn’t know which floor we were going. Also, they’d be the ones to exit first, and I could follow them.
There was a security camera on the corner of the ceiling. Could it see through my illusion? There’d be scanners and all sorts of security crap on Big Marcy’s floor. I dug the nail of my thumb into my index finger. Painful. Still human. Sort of.
Next question: is this a good idea?
Common sense would answer no.
But I wanted to prove my worth now; I might never return. I could tell that Erind inside me wasn’t too keen on using this form. That and it was too late to retreat—the only way was forward. I intentionally locked myself into this choice.
“I’m guessing you creeped her out,” Whiny said, chuckling as he followed me. “Asking someone we had just run into for a drink out of the blue? Too straightforward.”
“Yeah, Jeff.” Backup also entered the elevator. “I was surprised when you did it. If you’re at a bar, it’s normal to offer to buy a girl a drink. Way different if you’re both outside, and it’s your first meeting.”
I shrugged, recalling Jeffrey’s words. “We had a connection. She could feel it too, I’m sure.”
“You’re thinking some love-at-first-sight shit? This isn’t a movie. Looks have limits.”
“I know. You told me that before.” Here’s hoping you did, I prayed as I leaned against the back wall of the carriage, folding my arms across my chest, acting like the cool kid. I spied my reflection on the mirror wall to my right. My eyes lingered on my chiseled pecs peeking from my unbuttoned shirt.
Was this the counterpart to a woman’s cleavage?
Maybe Jeffrey was a model. I flexed my chest. My pecs hardened and bounced. I stifled a gasp. I had never done that before. I gazed down at my own body. Blue top, check. Nothing changed with me.
“Looks have limits,” Backup repeated as the door closed. “But looks aren’t only what Jeff, the man of the hour, got for the ladies.” He pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
My brows furrowed as he pressed other buttons. I leaned right, trying to subtly check. Four, two, nine… Was six the last button? His body blocked my view. A combination was needed to reach Big Marcy’s floor. I was right that parts of the renovated ship were built for 2Ms ‘business’ purposes.
Whiny, standing across the door from Backup, looked over his shoulder. “Did you read this Domino gal your resume?”
“Muscles aren’t the only things I flex,” I said, trying not to cringe at my dumb line. “I made sure she knew exactly who Jeffrey Nickelson is.” I followed it by mentioning some of what Jeffrey had told me. This was going to be bad if I got any incorrect.
“Yeah, yeah, we know that. And what was her reaction?”
“She was impressed, of course. Who wouldn’t be? A nice-looking head that has something in it. Impressive family and connections. That puts me on top of the list.”
“Eh? What list?”
“Any list!”
We all laughed.
I couldn’t believe how well this was going. I found it so easy to make up stuff now. Jeffrey’s face on the mirror wall was full of self-confidence. To be accurate, I was making him look that way. This was literally, ‘fake it until you make it.’
I placed my hands over my chest. Still looking at my reflection, I moved my fingers as if buttoning my illusional beach shirt. Jeffrey did it in the mirror world. This confirmed what I suspected.
Earlier, I pretended to check my phone—Jeffrey’s—to supposedly message his parents that I was on the way to meet Big Marcy. I didn’t have an actual phone. I just mimed that I was taking it out of a nonexistent pocket and typing stuff in the air. I did it to make my disguise more believable and have an excuse for Whiny and Backup to lead the way.
I could play it off as a joke if it didn’t work, but it somehow did. Whiny and Backup walked ahead to the elevators. They must’ve seen an illusion of a phone. Recalling my interactions with Jeffrey, he probably did see me adjusting my phantom glasses.
As the laughter died, Whiny said, “Still can’t deny she bailed on you, man. Need to rethink your opening lines. Some girls don’t care who you are or who you know.”
“Those are the best ones,” said Backup. “Girlfriend material.”
“She didn’t bail on me,” I said.
“I don’t think Jeff is looking for a girlfriend,” Whiny chimed in, nodding at me. “Not after what happened with—”
“This isn’t the time to talk about girls,” I interrupted in a serious tone. “Got to focus on my meeting with Big Marcy.” I managed to say that without my voice cracking from nervousness. Amazingly, I gained more and more courage, as if a fire burned stronger inside me.
It might be because I was running out of time. Worries flew out the window if I was right about the countdown and wouldn’t exist after six minutes. As much as I disliked Erind, I would get her to Big Marcy as my last act. He’d be expecting Jeffrey, probably to discuss Adumbrae transformation stuff, but instead, he’d meet Erind.
Not me, Domino. Erind. That’s the real reason I’m feeling so brave.
If this countdown were something else, I would take my face off and give the stage to Erind.
“Don’t sweat it, man,” said Whiny. “Your parents are already in. This is just a formality.”
“And Mr. Mark invited you to that place, didn’t he?” added Backup. “It’s already a sure deal.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Yeah. Big Marcy’s scary as heckin’ hell. But Mr. Mark got the last say.”
Last say on what? On Jeffrey turning into an Adumbrae? I couldn’t see why Jeffrey would want that. He seemingly had a nice life going on. Then again, most of the 2Ms’ clients probably had pleasant lives, being wealthy and powerful, and yet, they still wanted to reject their humanity. I couldn’t get their line of thinking.
Being human was nice. Like me.
The doors dinged open. We were led to a receiving room, unlike the other floors with elevators along the corridor. The three of us stepped out, with me trailing our group. I observed the blinking detector we passed, tensed and ready to do… nothing… because I had nowhere else to run. The sensor didn’t sound the alarm. I sighed in relief.
Now what?
I casually checked my surroundings, feigning that this wasn’t my first time here. Behind me was only one elevator door. All others couldn’t reach this place. This lobby of sorts was around the size of my Vegas condo, minus the bedrooms. Red velvet, threaded with golden tribal-looking patterns, covered the walls. The off-white marble floor caught the multi-colored shimmers of the crystal chandeliers above. Jeffrey’s reflection stared back when I looked down.
Alternating old-timey paintings and exotic potted plants lined my left and right. At the end of the room stood imposing double doors made of oak—just kidding, I knew nothing about the kinds of wood. An elegant cursive letter ‘B’ was inscribed on the left wing, and ‘M’ was on the right—Big Marcy.
Narcissistic much.
To the side of this door was a woman behind a table. She wore a masquerade mask like mine or like those people in Eve’s underground arena. Was she an Adumbrae? There were no guards around.
Whiny and Backup weren’t moving. They stood aside, intending for me to take the lead. Five minutes, my right crystal said. I confidently strode forward. My Sidekicks followed.
“I’m jealous as heck, man.” Whiny patted my back as if I had won a championship. “You’ll get to see the fights.”
Did he mean Adumbrae versus mutated human matches at Red Island? Must be similar to what was going on at Eve. When I was kidnapped—my first encounter with the 2Ms, and a frightening experience—the men who took me also mentioned something like it. They transported monsters to and from Red Island.
“We’ll see,” I said, trying to sound tough.
“You might even get to join one,” said Backup.
“That’s fucking insane if he does,” said Whiny. “Are you allowed to record there? I want to watch.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied.
We stood in front of the receptionist. She regarded us with hazel eyes through the slits of her mask. A smile was the only acknowledgment she gave.
“Good evening,” I said to her, unsure of the protocol. “Or is it already good morning because it’s past midnight? Erm, anyway, I’m here to meet Big Marcy. I’m Jeff—woah!” I clamped my mouth shut, remembering not to be surprised about anything.
The double doors hissed open as if mechanical pistons moved them, and that very might well be the case. From the labored way they swung out, they were heavier than they looked, like doors of a bank’s central vault. The edge of each wing revealed thick metal sandwiched between wooden panels.
The masked woman bowed, gesturing for us to enter. “Welcome, Mr. Nickelson. Kindly wait inside until Big Marcy calls for you.”
Wait? I nervously swallowed as I walked in.
On one hand, it was a relief that Big Marcy didn’t reschedule our meeting because he was going to bed or something. It was awfully late to still work, but that was probably what it meant to run a criminal organization. Plenty of evil stuff to manage. On the other hand, what would I do if I returned to my Erind self while waiting for my turn to meet him? What if the real Jeffrey came here?
“It’s Erind’s problem,” I muttered to myself. The thought was equal measures comforting and existentially dreadful.
“Did you say anything?” Whiny asked.
“Just talking to myself.”
Through the massive doors, we passed. More sensors lined the top of the door frame.
I blinked upon entering a dim room, twice wider than the one we left, trying to understand what I was seeing.
The place was styled like a hunter’s lodge, with rustic wooden wall boards, long beams forming a high vaulted ceiling dangling more chandeliers that weren’t switched on, and animal hide rugs like that of bears splayed on the floor. Multiple stone fireplaces were spaced along the walls with roaring flames, the only light source. People lounged in plush high chairs in front of them, their shadows stretching long behind. Guards in black suits melded with the room’s corners untouched by the light.
While it looked like a fancifully over-the-top, log cabin-styled room, especially pretentious to put in a ship, with the fire going, I thought of a hunter’s lodge because of the mounted heads decorating the walls. But they were not of bears or moose or boars—they were Adumbrae heads.
I tried not to stare as we passed under one with several tusks jutting from its lopsided mouth. Its blank, dead eyes reflected orange flames. We headed to empty chairs by the end of the room. There was another ‘BM’ door on the other side, probably on the way to Big Marcy’s office.
The three of us looked at each other, our silence peppered by crackling flames.
It didn’t seem right to talk. Out there, Jeffrey and his friends were big shots. Here, they were the lowest in the food chain. Hmmm… That didn’t sound like a good analogy. Or maybe it did? Assuming the other people here were Adumbrae, then we humans—yes, I counted myself as one—were bottom tier.
A butler, also wearing a mask, approached us to offer drinks. I stared at the glass he handed me, looking through the pale gold, bubbling liquid, and into the fire. For a moment, I spaced out. I slightly opened my palm while still holding the glass. Four minutes.
We drank in silence.
Three minutes.
The door that I assumed led to Big Marcy opened. We looked at it. My hands were cold despite the fire in front of me.
Two hulking men, larger than the other stationed guards, their muscles straining against their suits, exited. They also wore masks, black, matching their attire. A young man and woman, probably in their early twenties, followed them.
“McHunters,” Whiny Sidekick whispered, leaning near to be heard.
“Raphaela McHunter was still at the bar when I left,” I said, pretending to be in the know.
“Their mother gives me the creeps,” Backup said. “Old witch.”
“Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” I said.
“But it’s true. And so are her kids.”
“The gal’s pretty okay, though,” said Whiny. “And pretty, pretty. What do you think, Jeff?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty, I guess.” I shrugged. I didn’t get a good look at her because she and her brother hurried to the door.
With our topic gone, we sunk back into silence.
Two minutes.
The guards led an old man, hunched over with age, hobbling on a cane for support, through the ‘BM’ doors. I could see why he’d want to become an Adumbrae. Big Marcy was about to get another client.
Contacting Big Marcy through Vanessa to try to find the location of Red Island would be a wasted effort. But now I was on this ship, I wanted to meet Big Marcy—Erind wanted to meet him, I mean. It was hard to keep track of whose thoughts were whose. I supposed it was all me. What was Big Marcy going to do to Erind? Chuck her out to sea? She’d fight him. I’ll fight him.
He wouldn’t want to fight me. Not until we brought down his brother first. Same situation as my unspoken truce with Dario. So… might as well meet him and see what he got for me.
One minute.
My chest constricted as I saw the number change. I felt that I was going to vomit. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight… I started counting in my head.
I squirmed in my seat, thinking of running away. Erind was also trying to take over, making me stay. Her will was like a hammer. How could she be so sure of herself? So confident?
I knew the answer. She was neither.
She just didn’t care about anything.
Thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine…
Here goes. I downed my drink in three gulps to push down my rising nervous puke. Whiny and Backup had astonished expressions. I stood up. Their faces turned puzzled. Then I purposely approached the doors to Big Marcy.
“Jeff, where are you going?”
“They didn’t call for you, man.”
But Whiny and Backup didn’t leave their seats. I continued.
The guards eyed me.
“I’m here to see Big Marcy.” I would like to pretend I said it confidently, but I didn’t. I was bowed, speaking in a timid voice, cowering under the intimidating stares of men that were walls of muscles. Jeffrey was tall, and Domino wasn’t short at all, but these guards were like mountains.
“Wait your turn,” said the one on the right, his voice deeper than the meaning of life.
“I have to see him now.”
“Sit down before we make you.”
“This is important.” I tried to force my way between them, continuing to count, sixteen, fifteen…
One held my shoulder, his hand large enough to palm my head. I staggered under its weight. Determined, I grabbed his hand with my right, making sure the crystal touched him. His grip loosened. Gazing up, I saw his head wobble. My power was working!
The other guard looked down at me, angry eyes behind his mask. I didn’t become taller? My illusion didn’t turn into his partner? The second guard’s eyes turned from furious to confused as he checked his partner. He waved at his pal’s face. “What’s wrong with you?”
I ducked under the arms of the first guard. He staggered in a daze, bumping into the second. I took the opportunity to push through the doors. Thankfully, they were just regular doors. The second guard shrugged off the first one, letting him fall to the ground, and followed me, his shadow darkening the already dark hallway.
I tried to bolt, but it was too late. Thick fingers clamped on my head like it was a basketball. Then he squeezed.
The pain! I reached up for his hand, but my heart fell as soon as I touched it. Metal. An aug-arm. I still pressed the crystal on my right palm against it even though it wasn’t working.
He raised me off the floor. I tried to pry his fingers from my head, but I was too weak. My feet dangled as I whimpered, about to pass out. But a new wave of pain rocked my body. My muscles uncontrollably spasmed as electricity shocked me. I couldn’t think.
I… I…
The pain lessened, becoming a mere nuisance. The overwhelming strength I missed so much returned.
I…
I gripped the bastard’s fingers wrapped around my head—one salami-sized finger with one hand. I yanked in opposite directions, ripping his metal hand in two. “I don’t like people touching me.”