Chapter Eight
The following day Mia awoke from her sleep in better spirits prior to the last few days she had spent in Death's home. She smiled absently as her mind wandered back to the events of the day before.
Death had taken her on a tour throughout the Middle Eastern countries in quick trips. They had visited old relics, towns, restaurants, and beautiful sceneries that would forever be edged in her memories. He had proven to be a quite knowledgeable guide, if not a charismatic one. Frequently he had pointed out things to her and stated important and unknown facts of wherever they visited.
Mia had been weary at first, but as the hours had passed, she had managed to let go of her reservations briefly and enjoy her surroundings. She reasoned that she would probably never set foot there again and that she had always wanted to visit anywhere outside of the United States. When it had come time to head back, Death had finished off the trip with a small surprise.
He had teleported her to a small oasis that had taken her breath away instantly.
"Before this was created by man, a lone tent was centered here." Death told her in a low voice. "A desert woman lived here, in that tent, and it was here were she forged the necklace you wear today. The trinket was to be a gift for her sister, who was to marry a sheik. But it was stolen from her and given to a high priestess of Annubis. The woman died in her attempt to prevent the robbery."
Mia felt her heart tug in pity and remorse for the woman. "She was never mentioned in the museum."
"She was not of great importance in her time to be mentioned in your history." Death looked over at her. Mia met his dark gaze. "But she is significant."
"You deem people as significant?" Mia asked in disbelief. "How so?"
"Her work brought you joy. I was there at the museum when you visited with your father. And I saw your reaction once more at my study. Her work is a means of pleasure for you. That is why she is significant enough to be mentioned."
Mia blushed and turned away to look at nothing in particular.
She snapped out of her thoughts and blew out air through her mouth.
She might have enjoyed yesterday's events, but it didn't change her predicament. She was a prisoner of Death's, and she would remain so until he became fed up. Why he had taken her to the Middle East for her enjoyment was beyond her. He had gained nothing out of it.
After finishing with her toiletries and showering promptly, she left her room and headed to the kitchen in search for food. She was starved, and avoiding food was out of the question now. After pigging out on curry and other delicacies at the restaurants they have visited, she could not go back to depriving herself. Her stomach demanded that she eat.
She entered the kitchen and stopped short when she noticed Lupin pouring freshly squeezed orange juice from a pitcher. He didn't bother to look up at her as he spoke.
"My master will not be in attendance today until later this eve. He has important matters to attend to." he informed her as he set the glass down on the marble top of the island counter. His eyes met hers, and she couldn't help but shiver. "He has informed me that you are allowed to roam the gardens today as long as I escort you through them."
She folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight on one leg. Her good mood had just about dwindled. "Your master doesn't set my schedule for me."
"Of course he doesn't." Lupin said in a condescending tone that made her hand itch to slap him. "But nevertheless, the gardens are available for your enjoyment."
"I'd rather you pop me back to my apartment and leave me there. It'd be a win-win situation for the both of us." she pointed out.
Lupin frowned. "What?"
"Forget it." She muttered under her breath and approached the island. She pointed at the glass of orange juice. "Is that for me?"
Lupin took the glass and drank from it, his eyes never leaving hers as he did so. Mia narrowed her eyes at him. "You could have said no."
"Actions speak louder than words."
"Hmm, don't they?"
Lupin ignored her sarcasm and said instead, "If my master allowed for you to return home, I would be more than happy to oblige." Lupin stated. "However, he does not seem keen on releasing you so quickly. So please refrain from mentioning your home or any other sleep inducing topic you want to force me to hear. You will only increase my annoyance."
"You are sassy as you are rude." Mia told him. "I think you'd like my boss. His name is Harry, and most of the time he is crabby as he is handsome. You two would definitely make an interesting couple. He loves giants." She winked at him for more affect.
"Humans are beneath my taste." He replied in a dismissive tone.
"That's interesting. Have you ever interacted with a human other than me, hmm?"
"No, and it is not regrettable on my part."
"Then your statement is mute." Mia walked around the island and reached for a glass hanging upside down on the wall. She poured herself a glass of juice and perched herself on the island. "You have no evidence to back up your claim of your superiority over humans."
Lupin adjusted his hood over his head and moved away from her, his face holding a mask of discomfort. He really was beautiful and terrifying to look at. Like a cold serial killer with the face of an angel. She swallowed her drink and let her eyes drop away from his face and onto her lap.
"Hey, since we're going to be stuck together for a while," he scoffed at her words, and she grinned. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? What's your height, because you are massive? How did you end up being Death's personal lapdog?"
Lupin' hand fisted on top of the table, and Mia couldn't help but mentally pat herself on the back.
"I shall wait for you in the lobby once you are done eating." Lupin said flatly, his retreating back straight.
Mia felt a twinge of guilt, but immediately shook it off. He was an asshole, and he deserved that sort of treatment.
If she was going to be stuck in this godforsaken place, couldn't Death have given her a likable companion? Or perhaps he could grace her with his time, since the point of her being his prisoner was to keep him company.
Roarke rang Dinah's doorbell multiple times. He knew she was home because her car had been parked in the underground garage of her building. After leaving his finger pressed on the doorbell so that it rang continuously, the door burst open and a very angry Dinah answered the door. "What?!"
Her anger dissipated as soon as she recognized him, and she seemed shocked and excited all at once. Roarke cleared his throat and rested his hands on either side of the door frame as he leaned forward a bit. "Roarke Stanton in the flesh." she breathed, her cheeks flushed.
"Dinah." he greeted her promptly before getting to the point. "I actually came to see if Mia's hiding out with you?"
Dinah frowned at that. "What?"
"Mia hasn't been answering my calls or texts. I showed up to her apartment, and someone else was living there. Her boss and assistant had no idea who I was talking about..." Roarke rubbed the back of his neck in frustration when her face remained confused. "And you have no idea what I am talking about."
"I-I am sorry." she said hesitantly. "But, this is the first time I've met you."
Roarke groaned and pushed away from the doorframe. "Dinah, it's me! Roarke Stanton, Mia Stanton's twin brother!"
"I know who you are, I mean everyone does. But I have no idea who this Mia person is. She was never mentioned in the media." she told him apologetically. "I thought I had won a dream date or something when I answered the door."
Roarke searched her eyes. She seemed honest. What the hell was going on? "I have to go."
He rushed towards the elevator. He didn't stop or look back when Dinah called to him. Everyone was acting as though Mia had never existed, and he was beginning to become angry and paranoid. He sure as hell remembered her. So why was everyone suffering amnesia? And the worst part was that that bastard Nicholas Bateman had also vanished into thin air. Not one person had heard of him, and all the reports and columns of him either didn't exist or were simply articles of another tycoon. Roarke hoped to whatever god could hear him that his sister was alright. He had not heard from her in weeks.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he stepped out hurriedly and got into his awaiting car. "George, head to the country." He told his body guard, who was driving his town car. He dialed his mother's number but the phone line was busy, so he tried his stepfather's next.
He prayed Mia was at his parents' home.
"Mom, what do you mean who is Mia?!" Roarke burst out in frustration.
Patrick, his stepfather, scowled at him. "Watch it."
His mother only rolled her eyes. "Roarke, really I don't know all of your lady friends. You never bring one home, let alone introduce them to me." she said.
Roarke stood and began to pace on the patio of his parent's home. What was this? "Mom, Mia is not a lady friend, she is my sister. My twin sister." He emphasized.
His mother suddenly looked devastated as she clutched her chest and let out a shaky breath. Patrick wrapped his arm around her in comfort and looked up at him. He was angry, much to Roarke's surprise. "What the hell is the meaning of this, Roarke?" he demanded. "You know how mentioning your sister upsets your mother."
"What... so she is alive! You remember her." Roarke exclaimed in relief.
His mother's lip trembled and she shook her head. "Oh Roarke how could you be so cruel? Don't joke that way, not about your sister!"
"What? What is wrong with you two?"
His mother stood and rushed inside the house, her head down and her shoulders hunched. Patrick stood and leveled him with a disappointed look. Roarke was confused. "What did Mia do that has her so wound up?" he asked his stepfather.
"What I want to know is what's gotten into you that you are suddenly hollering your dead sister's name to your mother?"
Dead sister. Roarke blinked and shook his head in disbelief. "What did you say?"
Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and studied him. "Are you on drugs?"
"Mia's not dead, dad. She was here just before my trip to Japan having lunch with us. Right here in this patio." Roarke insisted.
"I don't know what stunt you're trying to pull, son. But you need to stop it. It's upsetting your mother, and its making you look pretty damn crazy right about now. Mia hasn't been alive for fourteen years." Patrick's facial features softened when he noticed Roarke's expression. He reached over and grabbed his shoulder. "She died when she hit her head on the camping trip you two took all those years ago."