Page 74 of Below the Shadow of the City

EPILOGUE

SATURDAY, EARLY MARCH

“The Chupacabras make the best Mexican food you’ll ever eat,” Maddox states as we ride the elevator from his apartment to street level. Right, of course the mythical alleged goat-eating beings would be the ones to excel at tacos here. He watches me process, “no, they don’t suck blood from innocent farm animals, they get their supply in far more ethical ways now.”

“Do they do goat tacos there?” I laugh. He puts his face in his palm.

“It’s a good thing I love you,” he shakes his head, “and yes, they do.”

The restaurant looks like any other high end one I’ve been in, save for the host being a tall, thin, dog-like creature in a black button down shirt, and the menagerie of other previously mythical beings occupying the space. I’ve grown used to it by now, but still on occasion have to stop myself from jumping at the sight of someone. When first meeting his best friend, the moody mothman named Kam, I couldn’t look him in his red glowing eyes without my fingers trembling. Now, he comes over for regular game nights and doesn’t totally give me the heebie jeebies. He definitely still terrifies me, it’s just his sour demeanor that’s scary and not the lengthy probosci extending out of his face.

Just after being seated Maddox steps away to the bathroom, leaving me alone with the menu, a small tealight candle in the center of our table, and acoustic guitar playing softly through the restaurant. My eyes scan the restaurant, careful to not let my gaze linger on any one particular individual. Until I see someone who scares me more than any cryptid I could think of.

“Ralph?” I say too loudly from my seat. I spot my boss, sitting at a table across from ours. He’s with a glamorous woman in all black, and his eyes widen when they meet mine. Said eyes are also a nearly glowing shade of blood red rather than the brown I recognize. His mouth twitches into something that looks like a smile, and instead of the ivory veneers that typically flash, I notice a set of particularly sharp canines.

Not a damn chance that Margo was right.

Maddox returns from the bathroom and slides into his seat. “My boss is here,” I stammer at him before he’s settled in the seat. “I think he’s a vampire?” He whips his head around and makes eye contact with Ralph, and there’s a knowing look between them.

“You work for Rafael?” Maddox asks with genuine shock.

“You know Ralph?” I retort. As we both silently put the puzzle pieces together Ralph materializes beside our table as if he’s floated across the room.

“Sigrid,” he says carefully and glances at Maddox. “And the young Mr. Canavar, what a pleasant surprise.” He stands formally at the end of the table, his clothes just as tailored and luxurious as ever, but in much darker tones than I’ve typically seen him in.

“How on earth do you two know each other?” I practically shout while the two of them shake hands with each other, any professionalism he’s known me to have in the past has faltered.

Maddox looks at him with a smile, “Rafael worked with my father for years before taking his ventures above ground, he bought out my dad’s half of the company fifteen or so years ago.”

“That half, I believe, paid for your college and the lake house upstate,” Ralph interjects.

“And the Corvette, and the motorcycle, and whatever else my dad decided to scoop up during his midlife crisis,” Maddox continues, the two of them laugh like old friends.

“Must be nice that the senior Mr. Canavar doesn’t need to work like the rest of us,” Ralph smiles and turns to me expectantly. “This pairing is…unexpected.”

“Maddox and I are…” I pause, what are we exactly? We haven’t exactly had the conversation. Did it warrant a conversation? I stay at his place most nights, we say I love you, that’s all the markings of a relationship.

I glance at Maddox for some sort of telepathy to magically happen between us to spur the correct answer. The candle between us flickers and sets his eyes ablaze as we have this small standoff.

“Sigrid’s my girlfriend,” Maddox says assuredly, and without breaking eye contact with me. No conversation necessary, apparently. Either the telepathy worked or we’re both incredibly sure of what this is between us. I definitely think it’s the latter at this point. My chest flushes with warmth at the string of words he’s chosen. He reaches for my hand and I meet his grasp.

“Sigrid, I've trusted your judgment in the past, surely you can do better than this monstrous brute?” Ralph smiles at me, I flush a bit. It’s refreshing to be out in the open with Maddox, but my boss was incredibly low on the list of those I’d want involved in my relationship.

“I know, I know, she’s out of my league,” Maddox chuckles. They talk like old friends, and Ralph is far less polished than he is in the office. Seeing him here now, it’s almost like his entire personality at work is scripted.

“Why don’t you both join Ilona and I, we’ve just sat down, and it would be a pleasure to have you be our guests this evening,” Ralph gestures to their table. “My treat, of course.”

Ilona, I swiftly learn, is the wife that he’s been incredibly vague about during my tenure at Holonatech. And she happens to be a vampire as well. I also learn that the car he arrives and departs in each day takes him to a fake apartment in SoHo that is a front for an entrance to the underground realm.

I swirl the ice in my margarita, “so, is Rafael preferable to Ralph?”

“The name was just one of the few alterations I made to fit in a bit better with the folk above ground. And I think it goes without saying, Sigrid,” Ralph leans towards me, “this can never be spoken of in the office.”

“I don’t anticipate this having any impact on our working relationship,” I smile. “Clearly I have my own secrets.” I nudge Maddox in the ribs.

“Knowing I have an ally could prove to be beneficial, for both of us,” he leans back and raps his fingers on the table. His fingers are adorned with golden rings dotted with jewels I’ve never seen him wear before. I don’t ask him to elaborate. While I’d be hesitant to trust a vampire, I have a sense that he’s offering some job security, which I certainly can’t be opposed to.

We chat more as a quartet, Maddox occasionally stirs in his seat. What was supposed to be a casual date night has become a far more formal affair. Him meeting with someone who’s served as a rich uncle to him, and myself feeling like I’m at work. Mildly unpleasant for us both.