The yakitori in my hands suddenly seemed less appetizing as I waited for the man—Lucius, as he eventually introduced himself—to unravel the mysteries that had begun to choke the life out of my reality. His name rolled off his tongue with a straightforwardness that had characterized all his interactions with me so far. Knowing his name didn't bring me ease as I'd hoped it would.
"Who are you, Lucius? If you're not like them, then what?" I pressed, hoping for some semblance of clarity. But clarity seemed a luxury he wasn't willing to afford me. Instead of answers, I got more questions, his interest sharply pivoting towards me. "How long have you been seeing...unusual things?" he inquired, his gaze intense, as if trying to peer into my very soul. I scoffed, using my food as an excuse not to give him an immediate answer, taking another bite.
The vibrant nightlife of Little Tokyo hummed around us. People laughed and chatted, completely oblivious to the supernatural storm brewing in their midst. I tried to focus, to gather my thoughts and pierce through the veil Lucius draped over our conversation, but it was like grasping at shadows.
His refusal to provide clear answers frayed my nerves, but before I could probe further, my phone rang. Pulling it from my purse, I saw Martha's name flash on the screen. "Excuse me," I murmured to Lucius, sliding my finger over the screen to answer. "Martha? What's up?"
"Evangeline, where's Ren? She's not answering her phone, and I'm getting worried," Martha's voice crackled through, tinged with panic. My heart sank. Ren. In the chaos of the night, her departure had been a blur—a moment marred by my confrontation with Lucius and the demons.
Panic knotted my stomach. "I—I don't know, Martha. She left with some guy, and I haven't heard from her since." The words tasted like ash in my mouth, the worry for my friend eclipsing the surreal encounter with Lucius.
I glanced at Lucius, his expression unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—guilt? Was it possible? Then it hit me, a wave of realization so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet. I could sense his guilt, a thread of emotion so palpable it wove itself into the very fabric of my being. How? Why was I able to feel this now?
Confronting him, I felt a surge of anger. "You. You did something, didn't you?" The accusation flew from my lips, fueled by a mix of newfound power and concern for Ren.
Lucius didn't flinch. Instead, he met my gaze squarely, a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. "Yes, I may have...influenced her decision to leave with that man." His admission, devoid of remorse, ignited a fire within me.
"Then you're going to help me find her. Now." It wasn't a request. The urgency to find Ren, to ensure her safety, pushed everything else to the background. I dialed Ren's number, desperation coloring each ring that went unanswered.
Lucius observed me for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "Very well. Let's find your friend." His agreement, though begrudging, offered a sliver of hope amidst the turmoil.
Instead of leaving a voicemail – because who listens to those anymore – I sent a quick text, 'call me'. Aboutto put my phone back in my purse, I stopped and added another text, 'r u ok?'
Leaving half of my food uneaten, I briskly left the table, threw my purse over my shoulder, and turned on my heel, waiting for Lucius to follow. The vibrant hum of Little Tokyo at night felt oddly muffled, as if I was hearing it from underwater. My focus was laser-sharp on the task at hand—finding Ren. Lucius rose, his movements fluid and assured, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. As he approached, I could feel the weight of his gaze, assessing, calculating.
Without a word, we began moving through the crowded streets, the neon glow of signs casting colorful shadows on our path. Lucius led with a confidence that suggested he knew exactly where he was going, yet we had no clear direction. The peculiar feeling of being able to sense his guilt still lingered, an unexplained connection between us that felt both invasive and intimate.
"Lucius," I started, my voice firm despite the chaos of emotions inside me, "how do we even start looking for her? This city is a maze." My frustration was evident, the helplessness of not knowing where Ren might be gnawing at me.
He paused, turning to face me, his expression unreadable in the neon light. "We start by understanding how I influenced her decision," he explained, his voice taking on a softer edge. "It's not just about where she is, but why she left with him. My...influence, as you called it, nudges desires that are already present."
The implication of his words sent a shiver down my spine. What desires had Ren been hiding? And how deep did Lucius's abilities run? The thought was unsettling, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated with a response. A flicker of hope surged as I quickly unlocked the screen, only to be met with silence on the other end. No text from Ren, just a notification from an app I hardly used. The disappointment was a physical ache, a sharp reminder of our reality.
Lucius watched me silently, giving me a moment. "We'll find her, Evangeline," he said, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic note of reassurance. It was the second time he'd used my full name, and it anchored me, grounding me amidst the swirling panic.
"Let's keep moving," I said, determination steeling my voice. Lucius nodded, and we continued on, the energy of Little Tokyo enveloping us once more. I couldn't shake the feeling that every step took us deeper into a world far removed from the one I knew, a world where the lines between friend and foe, reality and the supernatural, were blurred.
As we wove through the crowds, I couldn't help but wonder about the nature of the connection that allowed me to sense Lucius's guilt. It was a thread that tied us together, a beacon in the dark that I both resented and relied on. And as we searched for Ren, I realized that understanding this connection might be the key to not only finding my friend but also unraveling the mysteries that Lucius represented.
And then there were my shoes.
The off-brand stilettos, a testament to my questionable fashion priorities, started their rebellion. Initially, it was a mere whisper of discomfort, mocking me for the long night ahead. But with each step, it escalated into a full-blown mutiny, forcing me into a ridiculous tiptoe ballet. "Note to self," I muttered with a wince, "next time, choose survival over style."
I used the momentary pause in walking to fumble through my contacts, my thumb hovering over the names of friends who had been with us at the party. "Come on, come on," I muttered under my breath, selecting each name and firing off rapid texts: 'Have you seen Ren?' 'Is Ren with you?' The responses—or rather, the lack thereof—were immediate in their silence, except for one. A ping vibrated against my palm, a sliver of hope that fizzled out just as quickly as it had appeared. "Sorry, I haven't heard from her since the brewery," the screen illuminated.
Frustration mounting, I scrolled to Brad's number. Despite everything, he might know something, anything. My finger hesitated, then tapped to call. It rang, and rang, a symphony of anticipation that ended with the beep of his voicemail. "Brad, it's Eva. Look, whatever's going on between us, I need to know if you've seen Ren. Call me back, please." The final word hung between Lucius and me, a plea lost in the digital void.
I couldn't contain the exasperated sigh that escaped as I pocketed my phone, my steps faltering. We had reached the fringe of Little Tokyo, the ambient sounds slowly giving way to the distant, constant hum of highway 101. The nightlife's embrace receded, leaving a chilling emptiness in its wake.
Lucius watched me, his expression unreadable, yet I could feel his gaze probing, waiting. "What now?" he asked, his voice a calm in the storm of my panic.
I paused, the weight of the situation settling in. "I...I don't know. This isn't like Ren. She wouldn't just disappear without saying anything." My voice cracked, betraying the fear I tried so hard to keep at bay.
Pulling out my phone again, the realization struck me like lightning—going through the official channels was the next logical step. "I have to call the police," I declared, more to myself than to Lucius, the decision solidifying with each passing second.
Lucius's reaction was immediate, a subtle shift in his stance. "Evangeline, wait." His voice held an edge of caution, a stark reminder of the complexity surrounding us, an underworld of secrets and shadows where police intervention might not be the best course.
I paused, my finger hovering over the call button, my gaze locked on his. "What? Why? Lucius, she's my friend. If she's in trouble—"
He held up a hand, silencing my rising panic with a gesture. "I understand your concern, but consider the nature of what we're dealing with. There are... other ways to find her." He pulled out his phone, a device that seemed too ordinary for someone of his enigmatic nature.
"I have an... app," Lucius began, his tone suggesting this was no ordinary piece of software. "It lists individuals... marked by their... let's call them 'sins' for lack of a better word. It's possible your friend's sudden departure wasn't by chance."
My heart skipped at the implication. Was Ren's disappearance orchestrated by forces beyond the normal? The thought was chilling, yet it sparked a flicker of hope. If Lucius could track these 'marked' individuals, perhaps we could find Ren without drawing unnecessary attention to the supernatural elements at play.
"Show me," I demanded, my previous hesitation replaced by a surge of determination. If this app could lead us to Ren, then every second we wasted was precious.
Lucius tapped on his phone, his fingers moving with practiced ease. The screen lit up with a map, dots scattered across it, each representing someone marked by their deeds. It was a network of sin, invisible to the unsuspecting eye, but now a potential lifeline to finding Ren.
"We'll look for any unusual activity around the time and place she disappeared. If someone marked took her, they'll be on this map," Lucius explained, his gaze fixed on the screen.
The cold night air enveloped us as we huddled together, peering into the glow of Lucius's phone. The digital web of sinners sprawled before us was overwhelming, yet Lucius navigated it with a focused intensity. My earlier resolve to call the police faded, replaced by an uneasy alliance with Lucius and his mysterious resources.
As Lucius zoomed in on a location near the brewery, a dot pulsed ominously. "Here," he said, pointing. "This might be our starting point."