5.3 Dark and Deadly

The next day I walked into work and took a seat at my desk, numb. Everything was the same, but nothing was as it should've been...

"Um-m-m, I think you're sitting in my seat?" A pretty young woman looked down at me, a stack of folders between her manicured hands. She smiled, brows raised in apology.

"Excuse me?"

"That's my seat. I'm the new new intern. Mr. Darkwater just hired me."

"New intern? But that's my job."

The phone rang.

"Oop! I should probably get that. 'Scuse me..."

Ushered from my seat, I grabbed my purse and notebook, watching in astonishment as the new girl took my place, the receiver pressed to her ear.

"Salt by the Sea Gallery. This is Jane, how may I help you?"

Feeling eyes boring into the back of my skull, I turned, locking eyes with the figure watching from the second-floor balcony.

Dark Dorian smiled, whiskey glass raised in salute.

Livid, I barged into Miriam's old office, marching to the man seated at her desk.

"First you hire me, then you fire me? What is this? Why am I even here? Are you doing this just to torture me? Because let me tell you--"

"I'm giving you an upgrade." Dark Dorian smirked, a drink from the decanter on his desk.

"I... What?"

"Oh, yes. I've seen your work. Your talents are wasted behind a desk. That won't do at all. You will procure the darkest and deadliest paintings you can find and shall bring them directly to me. Congratulations--you're the gallery's head curator. Well, should you accept."

"Do I have a choice, Mr. Darkwater?"

"We all have a choice." Dark Dorian walking around the desk to face me. He leaned against the edge, a sly grin on his newly handsome face. "Isn't that what you said, Ms. Thorne?"

It was a trap. It had to be. But lives were at risk if I said no.

"Fine. But I want a raise. A big one."

"Done and done." Arms folded, he smiled back at me, dapper in his Burberry suit. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Tell me something. You have freedom--a real chance at a new beginning. Are you sure you want to sacrifice it on... whatever it is you're doing?"

"What do you know of sacrifice?" Still smiling, Dorian inspected his drink and took a sip. "Have you ever given up something so precious, so perfect..." He reached out, fingering the gold chain at my throat. "For a chance to have everything you've ever wanted? No? I thought as much. Too afraid to leap, you'd rather settle. Poor Miriam, she was smart. She leaped."

"Where is she? Please. Just say it."

"Very well. But you should know it was her decision. I didn't have to lift a finger. I merely gave her what she wanted."

Dorian walked behind me. With a hand on my shoulder, he guided me round his desk to the picture on the wall. It was new, something dark and deadly. Before I could blink we were inside the painting, watching the seen unfold in real time.

It was a moonlit night in the forest, a clearing where all the wild things had gathered round a tree. Ghouls, goblins, ghosts, and gremlins had joined hands in celebration, dancing round the woman swinging from a rope.

"I call it, 'Miriam in Motion'." Dark Dorian chuckled. "Growing up, her son's favorite picture book was Where the Wild Things Are. I love a spot of irony."

"You killed her."

"I exiled her. I couldn't have her spilling my secrets. In exchange for my kindness, she handed over the deed and received more money for her son than he could possibly imagine. But it takes a certain caliber to survive such decisions. I suppose she just couldn't live with herself."

"She couldn't live without her son." My breath hitched in chest. Tears welled, rolling down my cheek. "How could she do it?" I whispered. "How could she leave?"

"What would you do for the ones you love, Amelia?" Dark Dorian approached, cutting off my view of the darkness ahead. "Could you make the ultimate sacrifice? Lose it all to give them everything?" He grabbed my wrist, intercepting when I raised my hand to strike him. "I'll wager you could--I'm counting on it. My other half is all you see. You'll watch the world burn, just to save him."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're predictable." He shoved my hand away and stepped aside.

Knowing he was right, knowing all the cards in the deck were his, all I could do was watch Miriam swing.

Vanida was asleep when I entered the hospital room. I placed the flowers I'd brought on the windowsill, arranging them with all the others before walking to the foot of her bed. My friend looked so frail, swallowed in pillows and blankets. Sighing, I turned to go...

I heard a knocking sound and stopped. Vanida was sitting up. Her face was tired, her smile wan, but she was alert.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I just wanted to check on you," I signed back, returning to the foot of her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been poisoned." Her grin spread. "How are you?"

It didn't feel right, thinking about me. "I'm coping."

"Have you seen Danny?" Vanida winced, rearranging herself against the pillows. "I'm worried about him. He's been acting weird lately. I'm scared he's hiding something."

"I'm sure it's nothing." I gave her a reassuring smile, hating myself for lying. "He's just worried about you, V. We all are."

"Well stop it, I'm fine." Vanida struggled, leaning over to reach a tray with ice water. I poured her a glass and handed it over. She took a sip, leaning back with a sigh. "I know what everyone thinks--that Dark Dorian poisoned me. But that's not the way it happened."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He kidnapped me, but he didn't make me do anything. He said friendship and loyalty were a farce. That I shouldn't be surprised when you turned your back on me. He challenged me to prove him wrong. But I knew you would come for me, so I drank the poison."

"What? Vanida--why would you do that?"

"Because I know Dark Dorian is wrong. You would do anything for the ones you love, you'd never turn your back on us--because that's who you are, Amelia. It's who you've always been."

My head hung. I couldn't look Vanida in the eye, not while knowing what I came here to do.

"Van... We have to talk."

Under the cover of darkness, Dorian and I picked a clearing in the Gentle Forest and began unloading paintings from the car, using the moonlight and the car's headlights to see by.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Dorian, staring at the artwork I had once cherished now stacked like so much firewood.

I grabbed the gasoline and began to pour. "I've painted dozens of things Dorian can use to hurt others. I won't let him use my art against me or anyone else. Even if that means I'll never paint again."

"What's going on?" Dorian took the gasoline bucket, setting it aside. "You're scared, and angry. Talk to me."

"I did the one thing Vanida thought I would never do--I abandoned her. I told her I couldn't be around her anymore--not until we stop Dark Dorian. Because Danny's right, I nearly got her killed. And Miriam... she's been dead all along. That's on me too."

"Miriam?"

"She was the owner of the gallery." Hands in my back pockets, I exhaled. "Opal and I went to see a clairvoyant. He told me this would happen--he said that I would suffer, that I would lose people..." I shook my head. "He said if I stay down this path, I'll curse myself. I'll lose everything."

"Then you can't stay." Dorian took my hands in his. "It isn't worth it."

"If it means stopping Dark Dorian, what other choice do I have? Because that's what sacrifice is--it means giving up everything to protect the ones you love." I understood that now.

"Then we'll do it. Together." Dorian took the match book from my hand; he struck a match and tossed it in the pile. An orange blaze came to life, lighting the dark, consuming everything in its path.

Together, we watched the flames rise.

If it hadn't been for Allie X, the car would've been silent on the ride home.

Dorian glanced at me from the driver's seat. He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing twice.

Just as I had convinced myself that somehow, maybe, everything would be okay, we rounded a sharp bend, nearly hitting someone in the middle of the road. I screamed and Dorian swerved. The car went into a ditch, wheels bumping and jolting until we crashed into a tree, the impact ringing in my ears.

I blacked out and came to, head pounding, vision blurred. Blood dripped down the side of my head, falling into my lap; my whole body felt heavy and sluggish, like I was swimming through water.

"Dorian..." I groaned, bracing myself against the dashboard. "Are you okay?"

But Dorian's seat was empty. A jagged hole in the windshield told an ugly story. Seat belts are secondary when you're an immortal.

Fighting to stay conscious, I struggled with my own restraints - until the passenger door was wrenched open. As my fading vision swam through floaters and fog, I struggled to place the stranger that reached for me.

"Where's Dorian?" I said.

The world went black.

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