“The easy way, or the hard way?”
Her gaze drops to my palm, just a finger’s breadth away from her forearm, her throat clicking as she swallows. “I’ll follow you.”
The door opens to foyer walls covered in pale cream paint with gold filigree decorating the trim’s ivy detailing. Twin staircases curve upward like an embrace, wooden banisterspolished to a gleam. Rooms separate off to either side. A pair of double doors continue under the stairs straight ahead. The scent of cinnamon and brown sugar wafts lazily from the kitchen beyond.
She takes tentative steps inside my domain, her muscles tensed. The door closes behind us with a note of finality, and still, I don’t move from my post, weary of any quick movements that would shatter this spell.
“How have the New Malcolm police not discovered this place?” Kaye breaks the silence. “It’s not exactly low profile.”
“People see what they want to see. As long as you keep up appearances, no one looks too far beyond the façade.”
And the NMPD are buried so far in Vanall’s and the CCP’s pockets they can’t see their own heads stuck up their asses. How else could they ignore the people disappearing off the streets and businesses burned? New Malcolm used to be full of Supers just begging for a chance to save the day. The smart ones fled, and the others have been hunted down by the CCP. They seem fine with the villains though—we don’t interfere with business.
Until now.
“It’s so quiet here.” She shakes her head as she looks toward the tray ceiling some fifty feet over our heads. “The city is always loud. Full of life.”
She wanders closer to the large oil painting that covers the majority of one of the walls. The artist’s rendering of the manor has an almost romantic, dream-like quality to it. Commissioned not long after construction completed, the image is missing the wings that were added that extend to either side of the original building.
“Does your family know about your double life?” There’s something off in her expression. Distant. Whatever she’s seeing has nothing to do with the art. “Are they proud of what you’ve done?”
“My parents passed away when I was a child.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush.
“What about you, Checkmate? Corruptionandvigilantism in one year,” I tsk. “I’m sure your family is thrilled.”
“Fuck you.” Her expression immediately clears, like a wall slamming down between reality and whatever vision she saw. Only then do I realize what I have done, the opportunity I missed in my rush for a callous response.
The carpeting in the manor goes from a deep forest green to a sandy hue. The wood panel that decorates the walls in the main section gives way to a calming mid-tone blue with white accents. The hallway dead-ends to our right with two doors on either side of an expanded common space. The moon is just rising outside the picture window at the center wall, its light casting an ethereal glow. As we move closer, a pond comes into view.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Kaye’s whispers, so softly I almost miss it.
“Thank you.”
“I think I get why you’re so fucked up now. You’ve been alone your whole life.”
My temper rises, warm and fiery. “Did you ever think that maybe the reason I do what I do might be you?”
“Of the two of us, I’m the one without the criminal record.”
“Not anymore.”
Her expression crumples, and the anger I felt before is once again replaced with regret. Then the expression is gone, hidden behind the wall in her eyes. A new mask sliding into place to hide her vulnerability.
“I’m sorry, Kaye. That was uncalled for.”
“Don’t. I don’t know why I expected anything else.”
Great job, Zane.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door on our right.
Off-white walls with just a hint of gold suffuse the room with warmth from the sconces lining the walls around us. Oak floors and large windows with views of the overgrown fir trees outside make the space feel open and airy. It was the last room my mother decorated. A favorite of mine. It feels good here. Safe.
Kaye takes it in with an unreadable expression. She examines decorations and pictures on the walls, wandering into the walk-in closet and ensuite bathroom before facing me again.
“I had the horrible thought that everything would be purple,” she admits, her eyes still not meeting mine.
