Their mansion is an indicator of what I was walking into. The building alone is the size of most mid-sized apartment blocks; three stories tall and perched on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.
The inside of their home looks more like an art gallery than a place where people actually live. The off-white floors are made of some material I’ve never seen before, and are layered with ribbons of real gold between the seeming imperfections of the base. A thick glossy layer coats the top of the tiles, but even though it looks like glass, it isn’t slippery at all.
Ten pillars, made of the same strange stone with golden accents, run the length of the vast entry hall. Unlike the flooring though, there’s no shiny coat protecting them. Then, where the architectural design ends, decorations take over. Old paintings, trinkets and ornaments that would not be out of place in a museum are openly on display. Aztec pots and ancient Egyptian baubles lie scattered among family photographs and modern-day technological gadgets.
It’s a wickedly satisfying sight to behold, but stepping through the door is also terrifying. One slip, one mistake, could result in the loss of a fortune, or a piece of history. However, when I hear Tom’s friends, in the room over, shouting about drinking games and causing a stir, something tells me that I’m the only person who cares enough about the house’s contents to be concerned.
After seeing all of this, I understand how it is that Tom can be throwing his own party, while the titans of Midnite City congregate elsewhere in this mansion. You could stand on one side of the building and scream as loudly aspossible, and someone on the other side would be none the wiser.
“You made it.” Tom’s voice comes from behind, pulling me back down to earth from my thoughts.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I look at him over my shoulder, smiling.
“Fuck, you look amazing,” Tom gulps, his eyes covering my body, drinking in every inch of my outfit.
“You look…” I’m the first to admit that my choice of attire didn’t take very long to come up with. It’s a default classic at every Halloween party. But as far as Tom’s concerned, I may as well have gone all out and spent weeks trying to find the perfect look. “You look the same,” I finish.
He’s dressed in a long brown cloak with a hood draped over his back.
“Sadly, it wasn’t up to me. My fraternity had a last-minute vote on how we’d come and this is what they chose,” he says. Peering into the room, I see a couple of other guys wearing the same outfit. Some others have their hoods up and I get a better sense of what their outfits portray. They give off cultist, bordering on creepy, vibes but not enough to scare anyone off.
The rest of the crowd, like me, is dressed in different costumes. Superheroes, villains, and slutty versions of otherwise respected professions. They’re slamming beersand sucking down shots, all while the ominous hooded figures weave through them.
Okay, it’s official… I’m pretty freaking stoked about being here.
I know I’ve got a plan and all, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun along the way. As long as the end goal remains the same, nothing is stopping me.
“Trust me, if I had the final say,” Tom adds, slipping one hand onto the small of my back, and waving with the other to usher me in. “I’d be running around shirtless and in a loincloth.”
“Now, why would you go and tell me that?” I ask, feigning disappointment and playfully brushing his forearm. “You shirtless is all I’m going to think about for the rest of the night.”
“Good thing the night’s still young, then. Stick around long enough, and those dreams might become a reality.”
He winks, and then we move forward to blend in with the rest of the party.
Chapter Three
Colter
We meet on a backroad, surrounded by a thicket of trees that are nearly suffocated by an overgrowth of vegetation. The night is cool. The air is still. There isn’t so much as a rustle from the woods.
Even Mother Nature knows to be silent when a Ghost is on the hunt.
“Ready?” Ghost asks. ThetrueGhost. My mentor and predecessor. A living legendin the flesh.
He sits with his feet kicked up on the bed of his truck, a toothpick jammed between his lips. He is lazily eyeing the blackened treeline beside us.
“Yes.”
Tonight, I become him. Tonight, I claim my place in the Veil’s upper echelon. I should be choking up at the honor, but I can’t. I won’t. Feeble emotions were stripped from me as a boy.
“Doubts?” His voice echoes behind his mask.
I’ve had a few since this mission was brought to me. But standing on the precipice of my destiny, one thought shines brighter than the rest.
“Keeping her alive is a mistake,” I say.
“You’re right,” he replies. “But the Head insists.”
