Bride of Lazarus

2; At First Sight

Upon seeing that I've frozen up, Mom steps in front of me to knock. It feels like an eternity passes before the door swings open, revealing an old man with a severe hunch. Please, Gods, don't let this be the man I'm going to marry. "How can I help you," the old man croaks.

"I-I'm Josephine Channing." Mom extends her hand and he shakes it cautiously. "I believe Mr. DeLuca is expecting us?"

"Oh, of course! My apologies, Mrs. Channing. Come in, come in." A strong wind blows and the foundation creaks as we're ushered inside. The house smells lovely, much to my surprise. Old buildings usually smell old... This one smells like frankincense and Turkish coffee. "Please forgive my manners. We don't get many visitors these days. My name is Otto," the man bows before taking our coats. He presses a wide panel in the wall and it opens up. Behind the panel lies a hidden closet filled with the finest furs and leathers my eyes have ever seen. I can hardly force myself to look at Otto when he pipes up again. "I've been working with Mr. DeLuca for... Well, let's just say a very long time."

"What a lovely place to work," Mom marvels. Her eyes, too, are pasted to the collection of classy coats.

"Oh, yes. I'm very lucky," Otto smiles. "Come, come. He's waiting for you both in the ball room." Mom and I exchange glances of disbelief. 'Ball room' she mouths to me, eyebrows shooting through the meticulously-painted roof. Gods, it's like the Sistine Chapel up there, I realize. If the Sistine Chapel were covered in naked women instead of babies.

The three of us weave a path through what feels like the biggest maze I've ever been in. Each room is more beautiful than the last, each new scent dancing on my senses. It's almost too much 'wow' at once. Just as I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed, Otto turns and stops us. "Before you meet Mr. DeLuca," he sighs, "just know that he's... Well, he's been through a lot in the last ten years. He can be rather standoffish at first, but he's a good and genuine man. You just have to get to know him." Oh, brother, I think. I knew this place came with a price. "Do you have any questions for me before I return to work?"

"No," I lie through my teeth. I couldn't possibly ask Otto all the questions I want to ask. He would never return to work. "No, I'm ready."

"Very well, then." With that, Otto heaves the giant door open and gestures inside. It is by far the grandest ball room I have ever set foot in. The floors are a glorious emerald-and-eggshell marble that sparkles under a number of chandeliers, all dripping with what appear to be real crystals. There's a spiral staircase with ornate golden banisters in the west corner. At the very top sprawls a dimly lit balcony where guests can watch the magic unfold each night. Every chair, stool, and booth is painstakingly crafted from mahogany wood and green velvet; a feast for the eyes. And best of all... The bar. A matching marble countertop that stretches in front of both the largest and widest collection of liquor the human mind can imagine.

"In you go," Otto's warm voice wakes me from a trance. With his encouragement, mom and I finally dare to venture inside. Our heels clack against cold marble and the sound seems to echo for miles around. The door closes behind us with a rush of air. Now I'm panicking, I think. Mom takes my arm in hers. She always feels it when my nerves start up, like a sixth sense. I take a deep breath and smile to let her know that I'm okay. As I'm surveying the room, I realize that our host is not in it. Mom's face reflects my confusion back at me. Before I can ask what we ought to do now, a rich, rumbling voice calls out "up here". I look up into the balcony. Still, all I can see is shadows.

"Oh... Alright," I call back. Then, up the winding staircase we go. As I reach the top with mom close in tow, a pale hand materializes out of the darkness.

"Miss Channing," the gravelly voice greets me once again. I extend my own hand without looking and the man takes it gracefully. He pulls me closer, pressing a cold kiss to each of my cheeks. I blush from the contact.

"Mr. DeLuca," I greet him weakly. He lingers for a moment, cinnamon breath warming my neck. Then, he pulls away with a sigh. Finally, I think to myself. After five long years, I finally get to see my future husband for the first time. And as my curious eyes make their way to his, I think... Mom should have prepared me better than this. She said nothing of the Greek warrior that stands before me now; a living breathing, homage to marble sculptures. Even with the layers of fine fabric that he boasts, I can still see the body beneath. And believe me when I say, this man could have been Michelangelo's muse.

"Please," he smiles warmly, revealing two pearly, pointed incisors. "Call me Lazarus. After all, by tomorrow, you'll be my wife."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi guys! 👋😁 Sorry this chapter's short but it felt like a natural end, finally meeting Lazarus. More intrigue to come in the next chapter 🧐 STICK WITH ME.