THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

6. A Binding Contract

It was late in the afternoon by the time Dahlia finally mustered up the courage to enter the city hall. Honestly, she wanted to turn around and run away, but the mayor's threatening words were all she could think about. More than anything, she didn't want to be sent away.

She went to the elevator because she didn't know where else to go, and when the doors opened, she saw a man standing inside. He was tall and thin but strongly built, with chin-length black hair that shimmered in the light. His eyes shimmered too. Red they were, like blood, a color Dahlia found most peculiar. She had seen this man before, just for a brief moment when the beautiful, violet-eyed woman was taking her to meet Aro. His name would be one that she would always remember but yearn to forget.

Demetri.

"I need to speak with Aro," Dahlia said to the man. "It's about a job offer."

Demetri knew all this already. He had heard her enter the building — and smelled her long before that. "Step inside," he said, and then he moved aside and allowed her to step into the elevator next to him, but he said nothing else to her once the doors closed.

Dahlia stood in the corner opposite Demetri and watched the tiny yellow light move from one side of the panel to the other, counting down the floors. With every quiet ding, the lump in her throat dropped lower and lower.

She bit down on her lip and glanced over at the man beside her, who was looking straight ahead, his gaze unwavering even as she stared openly at him.

His posture is so perfect, she noted, observing him in awe. He stands like a nobleman from another time.

When his eyes finally caught hers, she blushed and looked away. Demetri took this moment to look her over, and he was not as impressed as she. From this close, he could see the dirt suffocating the pores on her face. And the white flakes of skin on her dry, cracked lips, he could see them too. When she smiled, it was a wonder they didn't crack in two.

The longer he stared, the more anxious she seemed to get. She began combing her fingers through her hair, as if trying to make herself more presentable to him. Like it mattered.

Despite himself, Demetri politely allowed Dahlia to exit first when they reached their destination. The young woman took this as a kind, chivalrous gesture, but when she tried to thank him, he hurried past her, granting her not even the briefest glance.

He has the face of a gentlemen, Dahlia thought as she watched him walk away, but his eyes are cold.

"So you've returned," Heidi said, stepping out from around the corner with a black binder in her arms. "Does that mean you're considering the position?"

"Yes," Dahlia replied as she followed the woman to the lobby. "I've decided to accept."

Heidi's red lips curled into a smile. "Excellent. I just have some documents for you to sign, and then we can make this official." From the binder, she pulled out a small stack of papers and placed them on the desk. She was just about to hand Dahlia a pen when she suddenly pulled away. "Wait, do you even know how to read?"

Dahlia's eyes narrowed. "I can read," she shot back.

"Of course. Forgive me." She placed the pen in the girl's hand, noting the stubby, chewed fingernails. "It's a standard employment contract. Look it over carefully. By signing, you agree to abide by the terms and conditions written above. You will work weekdays from nine to five, but you must always be available to us in case we should ever need you. While you work, you are to remain at your desk unless summoned elsewhere. There will be no wandering around the estate. Lastly, and this is the most important rule, under no circumstance are you to disclose anything you see or hear while working for us. As far as the outside world is considered, we don't even exist. Failure to abide by any one of these rules will result in immediate termination. Do you understand?"

Dahlia looked over the contract carefully. Pages and pages of tiny black text, with words she barely understood. "It seems like an awful lot for a simple office position. I'm just the secretary, aren't I?"

"You'll be whatever we need you to be. In time, you will understand why we must take such great precautions with our staff. Please, sign."

Dahlia placed the tip of her pen on the signature line. "I feel like I'm signing my soul to the devil," she joked.

Heidi chuckled lightly. "Yes, I suppose so." She watched closely as the girl carefully wrote out the letters of her name, and when she was finished, Heidi smiled. "Perfect. It's official now." Such a wasteful process, she thought as she took the papers and slid them back into her binder. I don't understand how humans can feel such comfort from a piece of paper. You'd think it was a shield.

"Now, come with me please." Heidi stepped toward the elevator, and her black heels rapped against the stone floor.

"Where are we going?" Dahlia asked.

Heidi spun around. "Didn't you read the contract? While working for us, you must adhere to a certain dress code. We do have a reputation to maintain." And I won't have you walking around in such filth. It's a poor reflection of me. "This way, please."

The two women took the elevator up to the main floor, and when they got out, they were blinded by a camera's flashing light. The photographer, a young man of twenty-eight, took another photo before finally lowering his camera.

"Can I help you?" Heidi asked the man, trying to hide her anger behind a pleasant smile.

The man was Christopher Redgrave, but he didn't introduce himself as such; and when he spoke, he spoke only in English despite being fluent in Italian.

"I'm Scott Redding." He held out his hand to shake, but the stunning woman denied him. "I'm here for the tour, which I've heard so much about. It's like no other, they say. This building is one of the most historical buildings in the region, perfectly preserved. Are those paintings in the foyer authentic? They look legit, but you never know, right? I had some guy in Florence trying to sell me the actual Mona Lisa, but I'm no fool. The piece looked like a crayon drawing my four-year-old could do."

Growing tired of his rambling, Heidi interrupted him. "I'm afraid there are no tours scheduled for today. You'll have to come back another time."

Christopher frowned. "Really? Man, I really wanted to see this place, too. Where does that elevator go, by the way? A secret room of gold and riches? They never did find Dracula's treasure, you know."

"Nothing so interesting as that," Heidi replied. "There is a tour tomorrow if you are still interested, but the building is about to close for the day. Please show yourself out."

Turning on her heel, Heidi started toward the door with Dahlia behind her.

No way she's human, Christopher thought as he whipped out his notepad and started jotting down notes. So this is the place where tourists go missing. Volterra is home to a bloodthirsty coven of vampires, and they use the mayor as a puppet. He stared suspiciously at the mysterious elevator, wondering what lay below. Yep, I'd believe it.

Slipping his notepad into his coat pocket, Christopher walked out of the building and disappeared into the crowd of tourists. Werewolves are attacking poor drunks and vampires are secretly running the city. Even I can't make this shit up.