Rikki glanced at her reflection in the mirror of the Hyatt Regency bathroom, her long red hair cascading around her shoulders like flames licking at the edges of doubt. The nervous energy thrumming beneath her skin felt foreign, alien. She was no stranger to new beginnings, but this...becoming an Echo Squire for the enigmatic vampire Marius Sant’ Germain...made her pulse race and breath hitch in her throat.
She walked back into the sitting room, picked up her phone, her brother Acheron’s name flashing on the screen. He was a lifeline, but she could almost hear the low tones of his voice echoing through the connection, bringing with it both reassurance and foreboding. She accepted the call, with a deep breath, as nervousness settled in her stomach like lead.
“Hey, Rikki! You in the Windy City?” Acheron’s voice carried a casual energy, yet Rikki sensed the underlying tension, a remnant of his own hurried plans in Denver.
“Checked in about an hour ago,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “Everything looks…luxurious.” She glanced around the room, an awkward smile creeping up her face. “Almost intimidating.”
“Intimidating is the name of the game. Remember what I told you about Marius and Madalyne? The stakes are high. Just keep your head clear. You’ve got this.”
Rikki pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a strange sense of isolation creeping in. So much depended on this meeting, not just for her but for Acheron too. He had always been the grounded one, the planner with his network of contacts, while she had carved her own path through herlife. Now, they were both tangled in a world beyond anything they had imagined as children.
“I wish you could be here,” she said, her voice a whisper as uncertainty curled around her heart. “I’ll do what you said, but I’m still not sure why I took this job. Was it really wise?”
Acheron’s laughter, rich and warm, filled the silence. “You wanted to be part of something bigger than yourself. You’ve always been drawn to mystery, Rikki. And if anything goes wrong, just remember: you can use your instincts. You see things others don’t. Your role as an Squire will only amplify that, give it time. Give yourself time.”
The fleeting thought of family ties stretched across the miles, a comfort she clung to. “But what if they don’t see it? What if they don’t…”
“Where is this coming from? You’ve made your choice. You've went through training and now you’re going to be trained by the best, and you need to take every chance to prove your worth. Just keep Acheron’s words in your heart, alright?”
Rikki nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah. You’re right. But what if Madalyne—”
“Just keep the door open,” he interrupted. “Madalyne has her own battles. If anyone understands, it’ll be her. You’re not just a Squire, Rikki. You're the daughter of a long line of Squires. I believe in you.”
She took a deep breath, running her fingers down the cool surface of the counter. A round of muted laughter drifted up from the bar below, slicing through her apprehensions like a fragile knife. She visualized Marius and Madalyne and imagined how their dark ceilings of powers would loom over her. Despite the flutter of anxiety, she couldn’t deny a consuming curiosity about them.
“Alright, I’ll remember that,” she said finally, squeezing her phone tightly. “But don’t take too long getting here. I might need a rescue.”
Acheron stood at the tall, arched window of the Belikov family estate, a sprawling mansion that juxtaposed the modern chaos of Denver with its old-world charm. The soft rain tapped against the glass, mirroring the turmoil within him. He glanced down at the scattered documents strewn across the ornate mahogany table, each sheet a puzzle piece to the broader mysteries that surrounded the League and the elusive missing family members. His pulse quickened at the thought of his next mission...an imminent trip to Chicago.
The news of Dmitri’s wife Damaris resurfacing brought a sliver of hope amidst the shadows. Over a year had elapsed since her disappearance, an absence that weighed heavily on the Belikov family. Acheron had felt more than a sense of duty to the family. He considered them friends, their relentless pursuit of lost loved ones a cause that transcended mere obligation. Damaris’s return ignited a flicker of unease. What if she was the only one to be found?
He pulled out a battered notebook filled with case files and notes, the ink smudged from countless revisions. Acheron had spent the last weeks gathering elusive leads on the missing, pouring over every whisper and rumor that could point them closer to answers. As he scrambled to piece together what he could bring to Chicago, anxiety fluttered in his stomach. He needed a diversion and turned to his phone calling his sister. She too was stepping out into a larger world.
As they spoke, a smile crept onto Acheron’s face as he pictured her surrounded by the city's hustle and warmth.
Acheron spoke gently, “You’re not just a Squire, Rikki. You're the daughter of a long line of Squires. I believe in you.”
He could almost see her rolling her eyes, a familiar gesture he both cherished and found irksome. “Fine, fine. But don’t forget about me.”
Her lightheartedness softened the weight hanging over them. “I’ll be there soon. I just want to make sure everything is secure here before I leave. The house is like a fortress...nothing should happen on my watch. Ilya should be here soon..” he added as he gave a glance around.
She sighed, the sound resonating with gratitude. “But don’t take too long getting here. I might need a rescue.”
As they ended the call, Acheron found himself lost in thought. He couldn’t help but wonder how Rikki would fare in her new role when the gravity of the situations weighed so heavily around them.
Determined, he collected the remaining documents, sliding them into a weather-worn leather satchel, reminiscent of countless journeys he had undertaken. Each page held a story, a clue—a life interrupted. The creaking floorboards whispered secrets as Acheron moved from room to room, ensuring that all was well in the sprawling estate. He paused occasionally, fingers grazing heirloom portraits that lined the walls, each framed figure a testament to the unyielding legacy of the Belikovs.
The phone call with his sister Rikki stayed in his mind as he traveled from Denver to Chicago, arriving in the early morning hours just as the sun peeked over the horizon. The comforting light filtered through the cab's grimy windows, casting soft patterns on the seats, reminding him that life went on, even beneath the surface stories he inhabited.<br><br>
Ash gathered his leather tooled suitcase and tightly clasped briefcase as he stepped from the cab and towards the diner, his breath visible in the cooler,early morning air. The city buzzed around him, half-asleep but pulsing with potential. He was here on business...a façade of legitimate real estate dealings. On the inside, however, he was entangled in something much darker, something involving the undead.<br><br>
It was one thing to work for vampires, he thought, feeling the weight of the briefcase against his leg. It was another to set up a front that masqueraded as a simple realty company. He remembered Rikki’s words: “Just be careful, Ash. Promise me.” Easily said, but sometimes, harder to do. But being with the family, that was easy.
The diner, a humble establishment with flickering neon signs, was just a few blocks from his hotel. The aroma of fried bacon mixed with freshly brewed coffee lured him inside. He slumped into a booth, the worn vinyl welcoming him like an old friend.<br><br>
As he sipped his coffee, fighting the sleepiness that came with a night of restless travel, he stole glances around the diner. The scattered patrons formed an eclectic mix: a couple hunched over two plates of pancakes, their laughter mingling with the clatter of dishes; a family of tourists, taking snapshots of their meals with giddy excitement; and an old man at the counter, his eyes lost in the newspaper, a dive into another world that seemed distant from the vibrant chatter around him.<br><br>
His mind drifted back to Rikki, her voice a blend of worry and love. She was his tether to a life he had growing up. Now his was a life rife with double identities and secrets. She was stepping into that life now as she was assigned to Marius. He hadn’t told her everything..how he started working for the League, or the more secretive, Bloodstone Group. That network which specialized in under-the-table real estate for beings who preferred to remain in the shadows. There was profit in the shadows, he reminded himself, but sometimes he wondered, at what cost?