Chapter 3
After the rather sobering conversation with Elaine, the two of us decided to call it night, mostly because she hadn’t packed yet and she was expected at the airport at least two hours before the flight. I offered to help her but then she gave me that chivalry-is-dead glare she was oh-so-good at and ordered me to go home because sweat mingled with my new cologne might give her the black plague, and so that she could romantically say goodbye via phone. Like the good boyfriend I was, I complied.
Normally, I’d take a nice long jog home because: one, it was a great way to stay in shape for when a giant n-legged monster was chasing me and two, I honestly didn’t want anyone to find out where I lived. Not even Elaine knew. But that night, I made an exception mostly because I had left my gun and knife in the car and there was no way of telling whether or not the head ghoul was waiting to jump me and sic his pack on me…or was it herd? Gaggle? In any case, a random cab driver taken in a populated area seemed my safest bet.
I had the cab pull over a few miles from my, er, house and just jogged the remainder of the road. The Pierce estate was…well, first you’ve got to take into account that I’m pretty well off. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to pay for dinner whilst spend my days hunting creatures of old. My family owned a very large business, the intricacies of which I never bothered myself to learn about. It was something about real estate or oil. Honestly, I have no clue and I’m not even going to try and pretend I do.
That’s why most passers’-by first reaction upon seeing our house – let’s not euphemize it and call it what it is: a freaking mansion – would be to gawk and take pictures on their tiny camera phones. In fact, I spotted a couple of teenagers doing just that when I arrived. The two gave me derisive glances and inched away as I approached. What? Are leather jackets no longer cool?
I gave them an enthusiastic wave before ringing the doorbell, having left my keys with Sigrun. Less than a minute passed before I heard something click, followed by the gate sliding open and a towering man appearing to greet me.
“Evening, Phil,” I greeted, immediately sliding inside before the teenagers could recover from their obvious surprise and snap low quality pictures of me. There were enough of those plastered on the internet from before I took on my Knight-ly (heh) duties and I didn’t want more current ones out there.
“Mr. Pierce,” Phil nodded, offering to take my jacket. The gates slammed behind me, effectively shutting us off from the outside world and I’m not being dramatic. It genuinely felt like I’d stepped into another world.
Chateau Pierce was a really big place, a few miles north of the city where people only passed by when driving cross-country or wanting to find a nice secluded place to make out. It was in that small window between the urban jungle and countryside, where the grassy terrain had that natural beauty you could never find in the city, untainted by development. It was surrounded by a forest of ancient trees where I used to spend my childhood playing hide and seek with my bodyguards. They were somehow less amused than I was. At twenty-five, I thought of them as a clear barrier between me and other people, that is, if the imposing walls weren’t enough.
The mansion itself was surrounded by a perimeter of red brick walls topped by ornate spikes that were both pretty and sharp. Surveillance cameras lined it every few yards, transmitting a continuous stream of video. In daylight, the mansion looked really nice, something fitting for the cover of Forbes’ richest people issue or, failing that, MTV Cribs. At night though, it looked less welcoming, like something out of a high-budget horror movie because everyone knows ghosts preferred to haunt imposing-looking Victorian-esque mansions.
“Mr. Pierce.” Sigrun appeared and bowed politely. Her hair had been bundled up in a severe bun once again and it looked as if her gray coat and slacks were newly ironed. She stood a head taller than me, and strode in a strong and confident manner. A wire traveled from her collar to her ear and a semiautomatic was strapped to her side.
“Olivier,” I nodded back.
Well, of course I couldn’t just go around telling people that the Sigrun of Nordic mythology had chosen me to be a Knight and was training me to be a champion of humanity. It’s claims like that that gets people thrown in soft, padded cells. Officially, Olivier Bennet was my personal bodyguard – loyal, efficient, never leaving my side. I had a feeling the greatly intensified training regiment she’d been subjecting me to for the past few weeks was every time I asked her to get me a Pop Tart.
“Your sister is asking for you,” she said as she handed me a towel.
“What does she want?”
“She did not divulge any details, just that she needed to speak with you urgently.” The lack of foresight obviously irked her. “I didn’t have the clearance.”
I accepted the towel and started drying my still-wet hair, gesturing for her to lead the way.
When we were out of hearing distance from Phil, Sigrun fell back and said in a whisper, “I’ve taken care of the girl.”
I pursed my lips and peered at the security cameras that were spread liberally across the estate. “Good. You found her parents?”
She shook her head minutely. “Unfortunately, no. I will tell you the details later.”
We left it at that for the time being as she led me toward the front door and across the wood-paneled hallways to the wing of the mansion where my sister had set up her home office.
There was a secretary’s desk in front of her room manned by a stunning brunette who I assumed was new. She gave me a bright smile before pressing a button on her desk. “Ms. Pierce, your brother is here to see you now.” A soft voice answered back.
The woman rose and guided us to the door, opening it all the way. “Coffee, sir? Another beverage, perhaps?”
“No, I’m good.”
As I went past, the woman motioned to shut the door. “I’m afraid this is a private meeting, Ms. Bennet. Ms. Pierce requests you return to your post.”
“O-of course,” Sigrun replied in surprise. I was, too. The tone the woman spoke with wasn’t something most people used on Sigrun. There was always a certain air of intimidation around the latter that made most of the guards treat her like the head of security even though she wasn’t. Whoever the new secretary was, she had balls. I gave Sigrun a nod that said to comply, which she returned as the door finally shut.
Amelia Pierce’s office wasn’t one I spent a lot of time in. It had a lot of rich furnishing that was there not just for design, but out of purpose. I guess since we were at our home, she didn’t need to doll up the room to intimidate her business partners. The long drive up to the huge doors of gigantic mansion was enough. At the end of the day, it was purely a work office.
My older sister by two years sat behind the desk, smiling warmly at me as if just seeing me brightened her day. I had to admit, we really do look alike. Both of us inherited our parents’ dark, wavy hair although mine was shorter while hers hung in a ponytail to the small of her back. We were both pale-skinned, though I wanted to think that the difference of our work environments had made her a lot paler than me. Warm gray eyes similar to mine gazed back in a most friendly manner that made me all the more suspicious. Though it was almost midnight, she still wore her white business attire, cut so elegantly that it displayed her figure rather well.
“Well, I’m here,” I announced, returning her smile. It was a challenge not to twitch.
“I can see that,” she murmured, her voice somehow musical. I couldn’t help but wonder why she was still single. “Please, take a seat.”
I complied and turned to face her.
She brushed the papers she was reading to the side and gazed at me intently. “How are you, Chris?”
I quirked an eyebrow, deadpan. “Seriously?”
She let out a chiming chuckle before picking out a small envelope from a pile of papers. “Right,” she drawled. “Always so serious. You’re right though; I didn’t call you just to catch up. I wanted to speak with you about business.”
I responded with an expression that was deader than my last one. “I repeat: Seriously?”
“It’s a fairly simple one. We’ve been approached by a possible investment. All you need to do is show up at a gathering, listen to his pitch, and write a report on it. In fact, the report’s just a formality – just tell me whether the investment is worth it or not. And, to sweeten the deal, the possible partner will be receiving you at his personal lodge overseas.”
“I don’t want to repeat myself thrice, Amy,” I said, mockingly using her childhood nickname. “Besides, are you sure it’s a good idea to send me? I mean…me?”
Amelia leaned forward, her fingers intertwining in front of her. “I believe so.” With that, she slid the envelope over to me. It was addressed to simply, ‘Pierce’. “That is the formal invitation they’ve sent us.”
“Uh-huh,” I drawled, inspecting the plain white envelope, adorned with our family’s crest and the logo of whoever the supposed ‘partner’ was. “And…this has nothing to do with you being so busy that you’re giving me a relatively worthless job so that you won’t have to? Or maybe, you want me out of your hair for a while?”
Her expression turned hurt. “Chris, I am doing this because I want to show you that I trust you.”
I stared at her face and tried to look for any hint of a lie. When I didn’t see anything, I reminded myself that this was the woman spearheading Pierce Industries and doing a damned good job at it. She must have been pretty good at lying already.
I know, I know: I was being at total asshole with how I was treating my own sister. To be honest, I didn’t really know how I had gotten so hostile towards her. She was my sister, right? Was, being the operative word.
Sure, she was still biologically my sister but…ever since we lost our parents over almost a decade ago; our relationship was never the same. I’m not going to sit here and cry about some painful fixation on the past, though. I had enough to keep my mind busy without adding my family issues to that list.
As I was busy contemplating, the door opened and the secretary entered wheeling a cart with a tray of tea and a mound of colorful pastries. “Ma’am; sir.”
“Thank you, Evelyn. Please leave the tray here.” My sister dismissed her with a wave.
Evelyn bowed and left just as quickly as she came. Amelia poured herself a cup of steaming, bitter, colored water (I call it like I see it), and offered me one of the pastries.
“No, thanks,” I declined. “Had a heavy dinner.”
“Ah, yes. I nearly forgot you that you met with Ms. Hartley today…uh, Elaine, correct?” she said. “I do hope to meet her someday.”
“Someday,” I said without promise.
We both fell silent as Amelia finished pouring another cup and passed it to me. I accepted, even though I didn’t really want any. Any kind of appetite I might have had upon entering the room had faded. I sneaked a glance at my sister and thought immediately of how different she looked. Before she took over the family business, she had never tied her hair back, always saying how much she loved the feel of it freely cascading down her back. She always hated office attire, finding them restricting, and preferred loose shirts; nowadays, her closet was brimming with tailor-made suits that probably cost more than ten times my dinner date.
In many ways, we had been so much alike – free-spirited where our parents were always severe and prim. That she had…changed so much was something that I tried not to think about.
“Hey,” I started, when the silence had gotten too heavy. “Um…w-when are you free? Elaine’s always saying how much she wants to meet my family.”
There was a clatter that echoed in the spacious office as Amy dropped the spoon she was adding sugar to her tea with.
“Oh…that would be nice,” she stuttered. I decided to simply ignore the fact that she didn’t give me an exact date. We briefly locked gazes and in that small moment, I saw a glimmer of what I thought was gratitude in her eyes. Her smile had appeared again as she stirred more sugar into her tea. She always did like sweet things.
I sighed, shoveling dirt on my pride as I spoke. “Sorry about earlier. I guess I’ve just had a rough day.”
“Did your date not go well?” she asked with what I thought was genuine interest.
“It went well enough…until Elaine brought up how she needed to go on a business trip in-,” I paused, glancing at my watch. “-three hours. After that, it got a bit awkward.”
“I see. Well, a woman has to consider her future, I guess.”
I decided to leave the part about our anniversary out.
“So, tell me,” Amy continued. “What else did you do today? Anything spectacular?”
Yes, sister dear, I went spelunking in the sewers to fight off a horde of ravenous ghouls from devouring an eight-year-old damsel in distress. Thank goodness I had a Valkyrie well-versed in runic magic on hand. “Nope, nothing in particular.”
“Are you sure…?” she trailed off. “Because I have something that says otherwise.”
She drew another piece of paper from the pile on her desk and slid it to me. It was an eight by ten colored photo that showed a man in a black shirt emerging from a manhole, a tall blonde woman gripping his collar. Both drenched in rain and sludge. It was blurry enough that the girl wrapped in the leather jacket merely looked like a trash bag.
I stared at the photo for a few moments, trying to figure out how the hell someone got that close without Sigrun or me noticing. I suddenly felt like a kid, guilty at being caught doing something he shouldn’t. But then I remembered I was an adult, and the other emotions got eaten up, leaving one singular feeling: Anger.
“Amelia,” I said, my voice hard as I stood up. “If you wanted to interrogate me, you should’ve went straight to the point. You didn’t have to put up some shitty older sister façade and pretend like you give a damn about me.”
Amelia rose as well. “It wasn’t a façade, Chris. I’m worried about you. Can you imagine what would happen if anyone recognized you?”
“Oh, I get it…You’re not worried about me; all you’re worried about is if anyone recognizes Christopher Pierce.”
“Chris-“
“I get it!” I snapped. “It’s bad for the company. Don’t worry; I won’t let anyone see me next time.” With that, I gathered my jacket and turned to leave.
“Chris.” I nearly jumped as I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I glanced at my sister. Whatever she saw was enough for her to let go and take a step back. “I just want to know what’s going on. I know you’re…hiding something, and I know it involves Olivier. But she refuses to tell me even after I threatened to terminate her employment.”
I glared at my sister. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“I will do what I must,” she replied, her eyes hardening. “She’s been a good influence on you…I saw how much you changed after we employed her but now, I’m not so sure. Chris, I implore you to stop whatever foolishness you’re engaging in. It will not end well for you.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snarled.
“Don’t I?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “You traded one vice for another - I see that now. Please… will you not even consider it? For both your and Olivier’s good.”
I took a breath to calm myself. If I snapped at her now, it could jeopardize Sigrun’s position – something I didn’t want. She may not have really needed the job but I certainly needed her. “Amelia, I promise you, I’m not doing anything illegal. I’m not doing anything that’s going to get the company in trouble. Olivier has nothing to do with anything. I promise.”
“Please, Chris-”
I turned to face her squarely, allowing my full height to shadow her. “Whatever you think I’m doing is your business. What I actually do is mine. You can’t boss me around like one of your servants, Amelia.”
To her credit, my sister didn’t back down, rising above my shadow. She was probably used to big men trying to intimidate her. Was I no different in her eyes? She exhaled slowly, nodding in what looked like defeat. “It appears I cannot change your mind to choose a different path… just promise me you’ll be more careful?”
There was a finality in her tone, a sense of loss. It made me think of the last time we spoke during my parents' funeral, when she said she'd have to take care of the company. Like I was losing her. Again. For a moment, I wanted to reach out to her right then and there but... I looked away, no longer able to bear the sight of her. “That’s the only thing I can promise you..”
Amelia gazed at me for a moment more, possibly looking for any hint of a lie. When she was satisfied, her eyes softened and she smiled gently. “I believe you. Now, please sit down. I haven’t even told you how frustrating my day has been.”
She gestured at my seat but I shook my head. “Sorry, Amelia, maybe some other time. I have to get some sleep.”
It was a lie of course. I just couldn’t bear another moment in that room.
“Oh, of course,” she said, her tone disappointed. “Please shut the door when you leave.”
I nodded politely and made my way to the door.
“Chris,” she called, one of my feet already on the other side of her threshold.
I turned my head slightly.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” I replied coldly, before shutting the door.