About two miles from the gate on the straight oak-lined road, a black castle emerged. The temperature dropped, the emptiness blue, the leaves whispering. The musky, earthy fragrance scented the air. This was Everett's. He smelled like his home.
"I don't know whether this is luxury or creepy." John craned out the window when the engine stopped.
The Watts Mansion reminded Cyan of Dawn Cathedral. They were built with the same material, but only one survived. Two majestic structures in the same locality was a calculated competition.
While four men jumped from the tailgate, the residents of the mansion marched through the grand front door. John tugged at the rope on a mound of white cloth. Cyan should help them, but a black flag above the conservatory was waving at her.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." John walked to the Watts boys. Four of them were there, but this house could have hosted the whole clan. "We've got a delivery for Mr. Watts. Could you show us the way to the South Hall?"
"Sure." Luke stepped forward. "Do you want some help with that?"
"We got it," replied Grant.
Cyan took a step back and dodged between the workmen. Despite her insignificant input, she determined to be a part of the force. Truthfully, Cyan was nervous about coming here, but John was leaving. Every minute with him was precious.
"Let me help you with that." Will slid in between Cyan and Kevin.
"Thank you," Cyan said and wilted. Will was Bill Watts. And although Bill Watts was generous, he was the king.
"I got it, Cyan." Everett pulled Cyan out of the formation by the arms.
Everett found Will intolerable, and the latter hated working alongside his brother. Cyan knew how it was. Corinne and the girls explained it to her many times. This happened to every new girl in town. The Watts boys liked to win. But when the game was over, they tossed away the toy.
Through the front door, the carpeted stairs cascaded down the foyer. This castle was another world, colder than the air of the forest, the ceiling dark like the night sky. The cherubs flew in the corners and on the metal reliefs. The house, like its crumbling neighbor, embraced gothic influence. Cyan stared at one baby angel, his cheeks holding solid tears.
"Cute, hmm?" Luke asked.
Cyan dropped her chin, and Luke towered in front of her. Although the statues saddened Evil in her, Luke's humor induced a smile.
"We even have them in the bathrooms," Luke said and tossed his head in the direction of the convoy.
"Why are they crying?" Cyan asked.
"Look at this place, Cyan. You'll cry, too, if you have to live here for the rest of your life."
Simon slapped the back of Luke's head, and Luke giggled. The Watts boys were very physical—they enjoyed futile competitions. Aggression was their way of endearment. They were really just boys. Cyan wondered what they would do to each other when they became men.
The good was enormous, but the men and two Watts boys steadily transported it to the South Hall, a colossal room with golden fabrics draping the windows. Two indoor fountains gushed from the stone floor, the Watts beauties smirking from the walls of canvases, black crystal chandeliers quiet on the ceiling.
Bill Watts strutted in the hall as John unveiled the art through the layers of cloths and bubble wraps. The marvelous black wood gleamed. The design was all Watts Clan's style: sulky cherubs herding equines. In the middle, a gold moondial set above the pendulums similar to a feature of a grandfather clock. John explained that the artsy machine commended full moons, not minutes and hours.
"Magnificent!" Bill Watts clapped. "What an exquisite work, John!"
"I can't take the credit, sir," John said, Bill Watts's satisfaction mesmerizing him. "I only follow the plan. The design is yours." He blushed, Bill Watts his crush at the moment.
Bill Watts was more than a billionaire. He was kind, smart, and beautiful. People thought he was cruel, but the grace of this man merely intimidated them.
The Watts boys gaped at their father, the architecture of the monstrous craft. But Bill Watts's talent was unsurprising. The man's brain astounded Cyan on every occasion that they interacted. He had the vast wisdom of various genres, fluent in many languages, and skilled in diverse fields. Cyan thought Bill Watts was God's perfection.
"This calls for a celebration," Bill Watts said. "Have dinner with us."
"Oh, thank you." John bowed. "But maybe some other time, sir. I'm heading to Fort Worth tonight."
"What a shame!" Bill Watts set his lips into a line. "I should have checked with you first. What about you, Cyan?"
"I..." Cyan felt the eyes on her skin.
"Well, stay." A frown settled on Bill Watts's face. "Angelica is coming to join us, and she's been asking about you."
Cyan liked Angelica—another flawless creature whose beauty made Cyan scrutinize herself.
"I'm not dressed for a dinner party." Cyan smelled like stable and wet grass, and she recalled that Angelica had a scent of night-blooming cereus.
Bill Watts said, "Nonsense!"
Cyan rubbed her arms, and John shook his head for her to stop touching them. Taking a deep breath, she shivered in her peach sweater and black jeans. Everett peered at her arms, seeming to understand her impulse, too. His keen eyes made Cyan even more vulnerable.
"It's just dinner, and you look gorgeous no matter what." Bill Watts clutched Cyan's shoulder. "You're practically family. If you want to freshen up, I bet Everett can find a dress in his room. Girls leave their clothes here as if they don't have their fathers to shame. Cyan, I wish kids in this generation are smart and capable like you. John, if you teach one of my sons to be like this girl, I'll die a happy man."
Everett frowned. His brothers sneered. The sweet insults troubled and amused Cyan at the same time.
Bill Watts strode to John. "But next time, you won't turn down dinner in this house." He flung his arm around John's back, and this made all of John red. "You don't mind leaving her here, do you?"
John's reaction shifted from swooning to concerning. "Not at all, but I won't be home until tomorrow so..." He peered at Cyan's joined hands. "You'll have to call a cab."
"Don't worry about it. One of my boys will take care of that."
Bill Watts's boys. Boys! The Watts boys! Cyan pouted at John. He should stop trusting her so much.
***
Cyan's chest became hollow for all the gasps she had been expressing. The Watts library was old and grand, filled with the perfume of time and the romance of knowledge. In another aisle of silk-covered books, she pressed her mouth, shaking and wanting to ransack through the shelves. No wonder these boys were clever.
"Tell me, my girl," Bill Watts said, "how unique are we?" In his hands was a green-clothed volume of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species.
Cyan's eyes widened. Bill Watts rested the rare edition in her hands.
"Being special is a matter of strength." Cyan turned the pages carefully.
"I like your choice of words," Bill Watts said. "You would have survived the politics in the nineteenth century. Transmutation was such a taboo idea then. It got churchgoers hopping mad." He veered to another aisle, and Cyan followed. The Watts boys trailed behind them. "People like to think they are up high on the hierarchy, pure, special." He scoffed, doing it better than any Watts. "You know what people say about the Watts Clan, Cyan?" He wheeled around and guided Cyan to chapter three of the book.
"You have the best genes." Cyan glanced at the content.
Bill Watts proceeded and Cyan beside him.
"Beautiful," Bill Watts stated another known fact about his bloodline. "People believe we inherit beauties from our ancestors. Look at William. He's me. Everett's heart—that's his grandfather's. He turned around again. "Come here, Simon."
Simon complied. The dean was the most obedient Watts boy.
Bill Watts contemplated. "If you two had a child, my grandson would be a beauty," he said.
A ball of heat burst in Cyan's stomach. A shameful imagination crossed her mind.
"But what's beauty, my girl?" Bill Watts asked. "You know it better than anyone."
"Nature's way of acting in the distance." Cyan found the most scientific phase to respond to Bill Watts while her mind was at how pretty his sons were. She glanced at the paragraphs on a page for distraction.
"Yes," Bill Watts said and continued toward the lounge. "And for what?"
"Natural selection."
"Use a term these boys can understand." Bill Watts halted, standing in front of the portrait of his root—Colt and Rosalind, the beauty, the romance, the legacy of this magnificent clan.
"Survival." Cyan gasped as a hand clenched her fingers against the book.
Bill Watts's grip was forceful and threatening despite the tenderness that overwhelmed his face. "Keep it." He looked at the book and released her.
"I can't." Cyan stiffened. "It's the first edition. This is too precious."
"Everett," Bill Watts shouted. He neglected Cyan's dissent, so the book was utterly hers now. "Take care of Cyan. Find something for her to wear." He stamped his lips on her cheek and leaned back with some sensitivity in his eyes.
Cyan dropped her chin, her heart pounding when she realized that Bill Watts was looking for something. He desperately needed an answer and wanted her help. For the first time, Cyan understood the golden ticket.
Chapter three: Struggle for Existence—the title embedded in Cyan's mind. Bill Watts had a way to entice and frighten her at once.
The competition between living things to survive is the struggle of life. Cyan knew wars even though she never had to compete to be alive. Darwin concurred that the vigorous, the healthy, and the happy survived—the Watts Clan was all those things. What did Bill Watts want, then? What did he want her to find?