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He lifted his hand to ring the doorbell when his eye caught on a small piece of notepaper taped just above eye level.
Mr. Cline,
Come inside. Lock the door.
Meet me in the front blue parlor.
~M
Ethan pulled the note off the door and stared at it for a moment, taking in Marcus’s bold handwriting. The instructions were concise and gruff, easily matching the manner of the man he’d met the day before. They also made sense since Ethan was sure that Marcus Varik was a vampire. He couldn’t risk answering the door and exposing himself to the sunlight.
Slipping the note into his pocket, Ethan took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers around the cool brass door handle. He was willingly walking into the vampire’s lair. He was going to work for this vampire. Uncover his secrets. And when he had all the information he needed, he planned to hand Marcus and the rest of his murderous family over to the Humans Protecting Humans League so that they could be exterminated like the dangerous predators they were.
With his carefree mask in place, Ethan stepped inside the massive town house and locked the door behind him. Turning toward the main foyer, he blinked several times, willing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. His heart sped up during his temporary blindness as his imagination took over, conjuring up blood-coated vampires with fangs exposed bearing down on him.
But when his vision finally cleared, Ethan found that he was alone in the foyer with his back pressed to the front door. Everything looked the same as the day before. Priceless rugs, vases, and paintings in massive frames covered nearly every surface. Yet, he was alone.
Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, Ethan strolled down the hall, poking his head into one doorway and then another until he came to a large room with a delicate couch that Ethan was somewhat sure was called a settee and an equally delicate-looking coffee table. The walls were painted a pale blue and lacy white curtains hung over tall windows. But it was the heavy blinds over the windows that blocked out the sun.
He paused just past the threshold, looking over the room in wonder. From the paintings to the little ceramic figures on the white mantle to the flowered area rugs on the thick white carpet, nothing in this room looked as if it fit Marcus Varik. But it did look like it had been ripped out of another time period. Like he’d stepped into a museum or fallen through a hole in time and woken in Victorian London.
But then, maybe Marcus felt at home here. Maybe he was so old that this decor was something he was familiar with.
And what was it like for him to exist now, in a time of flat-screen TVs, internet, digital personal assistants, and streaming entertainment? Everything was sleek, liquid crystal, touch-screen, and interactive.
Standing in the middle of the room, Ethan slowly turned, taking in his surprising surroundings as his vision finally adjusted to a shadowy corner where he spotted Marcus sitting perfectly still in a chair, a newspaper clutched in both hands as if he’d just lowered it.
“Holy shit!” Ethan exclaimed before he could stop himself. He jumped back and clapped a hand over his mouth.
Marcus rose quickly, one hand extended toward Ethan as Ethan lowered the one covering his lips to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, beating Ethan to the punch. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Surprised me,” Ethan corrected. “I didn’t see you there.” He forced a smile while trying to get his heart rate to slow to normal.
“When you walked in, you appeared…engrossed. I didn’t want to disturb your…” Marcus waved his hand at their surroundings, “your perusal of the room.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing. It was like stepping back in time or into a museum,” Ethan said. “I guess I wasn’t expecting something like this.”
Marcus nodded stiffly and turned his attention to the newspaper still clutched tightly in one hand. He made a great deal of noise folding the paper up, and Ethan could feel a smile tugging at his lips. Not only was he standing in a room lost to time, but he was facing a man who still read a physical newspaper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that besides at the corner table meeting of old men at the nearby McDonald’s. Ethan had seen them there several times, with their coffee, newspapers, and gossip.
If he wasn’t sure Marcus was somehow involved in the murder of his family, the man might actually be adorable.
“This is the only room in the house like this. My mother describes it as inviting.” Marcus paused, a frown deepening the lines on his face. “The other rooms are…normal.” Marcus cleared his throat and tossed his paper down on the chair he’d just vacated. His shoulders straightened and it was like watching him fit himself into a character or a role. “Thank you for showing up on time. After today, you will be here promptly at noon and leave at exactly eight p.m. Is that understood?” The no-nonsense boss was in charge again.
