I Am the Wild (The Night Firm Book 1) Page 4

  This is enough to get caught up on my payments and then some. Though I realize that since it's a live-in position, I wouldn't actually need this place anymore.

  Tears burn my eyes. This job could save me from bankruptcy and homelessness.

  Two years ago, if you'd told me this is what my life would look like right now, I never would have believed you.

  I was happy, at the top of my career, in love with who I thought was a great man, living in a luxury apartment in the heart of New York's posh neighborhood. I had it all.

  Then I lost it all the day my brother called with the news.

  I didn't know it at the time. Not yet.

  But certain events in life have the ability to strip you of everything so slowly you don't realize it's happening until it's too late.

  Now I'm single, deeply in debt, unemployed, and as unhappy as I've ever been in my life.

  I glance down at the thick parchment, shaking my head. This could solve all my problems.

  I can't even believe I'm considering it. That place was insane. Even if I was only imagining parts of it.

  After all, the strange things I saw did happen after my explosive headache. I've never had one that bad, but even in the past I've had moments of seeing things that aren't there. This might have felt more real, but that's likely due to the severity of the episode.

  So, what's really the problem with taking the job? I reach for my wine glass but realize I never finished opening the new bottle. Damn.

  The worst thing is a few of the brothers clearly don't want me there. Especially Sebastian.

  So what? I climbed to the top at my last job despite men like that, not because of them. I could do it again. Would do it again.

  I consider waiting until morning, but I realize this is now my new work day, if I really am going to do this. Am I really going to do this?

  Apparently I am.

  I dial before I change my mind. The female twin answers. "This is Eve. May I please speak with Derek?"

  I decide to use his first name since Mr. Night would bring all the boys running, and I only want to talk to the one who actually fought for me to be there.

  "Hello, Eve," his warm voice says a moment later.

  "I'll take the job," I say hurriedly, before my liquid courage fades.

  "I'm delighted to hear that. Can we expect you to start tomorrow evening?"

  "You said this requires a live-in situation, yes?"

  "Yes."

  "I might need a few days to get my belongings packed and my things in order. But I have… a favor to ask."

  "What might that be?"

  I bite my lip, hating that I have to ask this. "Is it possible to get my signing bonus now?"

  "Of course, that can be arranged." He pauses, and I hear some clicking in the background. "The money has been transferred into your account. You should see it there now. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  I'm dumbfounded. I set my phone to speaker and click open my banking app and check. Sure enough, the deposit was made. "But, I didn't give you my account information."

  He chuckles. "You will find we have significant resources at our disposal. You don't think we offered this job to you without doing a thorough investigation into your life, do you?"

  "That's… that's invasive!" I feel vulnerable and violated, but not enough to take back my acceptance of the job. I can't totally blame them. I always encouraged background checks on new employees. Of course, they would look into me, especially if I'll be handling sensitive client information or dealing with large amounts of money. And if I'm living with them, then that's a whole other deal. They'd certainly want to know the person they were bringing into their home.

  I should be so diligent, but I can't seem to find anything about this company or this family online, which is just strange, and I don't know what it means. How do you run a business, a successful one by the looks of it, without having some online presence these days?

  "I apologize for the personal intrusion, but given the sensitive nature of our work, I fear we had no choice but to be thorough. As for your relocation, I can send a moving team to your apartment tomorrow to help you pack and move whatever you want. I can provide a storage, or if you'd rather, I can arrange for whatever you'd like to be sold and the money sent to your account."

  "Um. Thanks. Yeah, I guess that would be helpful."

  "Very good. Can I expect to see you Thursday evening, then?"

  "Yes, that should be enough time."

  "Wonderful. We look forward to having you as part of our family. I'll send a driver for you and your belongings at seven p.m. Anything you'd like sent to our home, please let the movers know tomorrow and it will be here waiting for you."

  "Can I ask you one more thing?" I rush the words before I lose my nerve. This may be a bad idea, but what the hell. I'm full of those tonight.

  "Anything," he says.

  I explain to him what I need and I can hear the smile in his voice. "It would be my pleasure to assist in this."

  He ends the call, and I sit staring at my phone. Have I completely lost my mind? I kind of feel like I have.

  I yawn, and the adrenaline rush of seeing Sebastian and making that call crashes through me, leaving me weak and tired and ready for bed.

  I abandon the second bottle of wine and retire to my bedroom, falling onto my mattress like the drunk, exhausted woman I am.

  That night my dreams take me to a grove of trees near a stream. The moon is full and reflects off the water. A woman shrouded in a robe stands in front of a blazing fire, her long, dark, hair - wild and curly - whips in the wind as she raises her arms.

  "I am the woman in the wild!" she screams into the shrieking wind. As she speaks, the wind thrashes, the water becomes brackish, the fire blazes, and the trees seem to bend into her.

  "I am the blood sister of the moon! I am the call of the night and her secrets. The radiance left from a star. I am all that you need and more than you know. I am the hidden that shall now be found. Tell my story. Set me free. I am the magic that you seek. I am the wild!"

  As her robes fall off, she stands naked, her face covered by her hair, the flames dancing off her pale skin, moving around her. She controls the flames, sending them forward. Sending them into me in a flash of heat and searing pain.

  My heart slams against my ribs as I wake with a start, gasping for breath, clutching my chest.

  I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying my dream. It felt so real. So visceral. Like I was standing in the clearing with her. I could feel the heat of the flames, the splash of the water from the stream. I could smell the wood burning and the mulch from the forest. I could feel her power flowing in and around me.

  My breathing slows and I check the time. It's not even seven in the morning yet, but I know I won't be getting anymore sleep.

  I slide out of bed and am about to head to the shower, but I decide to take a run instead, despite my hangover, either from the bottle of wine or the headache, likely both. Still, it's been too long since I worked out. I need this.

  On my way out the door, I pause outside my brother's room and take a deep breath. Some days are easier than others. All days are hard. I push it away most of the time, but when I'm home, I allow myself a moment to our memories. Just a moment.

  Then I leave the building and begin running.

  With music blasting in my ear, and the pounding of the pavement under my feet, I don't pay too much attention to where I'm going, so I'm a little surprised when I end up at The Night Firm.

  But I'm not nearly as surprised as when I poke my head in and see it's empty. Not just no one at the front desk, but totally empty. No sign. No furniture. No cool zen decorations. No fountain overflowing.

  I pull out my phone and call the office number. The creepy twin whose name I should probably learn answers. "The Night Firm."

  "Derek, please, it's Eve."

  She puts me on hold without a word. As usual. If I were them I'd put someone more persona
ble up front as the first contact, but that's just me.

  "Derek Night here," he says in a distracted voice.

  "Hi, it's Eve," I say. "I'm um. I'm confused."

  "About what, Eve?"

  "I'm at the office, only The Night Firm no longer exists here. Is this some kind of scam?" I ask.

  "How could this be a scam?" he asks. "I've sent you money. Isn't a scam usually the other way around?"

  He's got a point there.

  "So you relocated in the few hours I slept?" I ask. "How's that even possible?"

  "With the right motivation, anything is possible."

  I don't know what to say in response to that.

  "And we did make clear that this job was live-in and involved travel. We go where our clients need us."

  "That's a highly unusual way for a law firm to do business," I say, which is honestly the biggest understatement in the history of understatements.

  "We are a highly unusual firm, Miss Oliver, as I'm sure you've noticed. But I am glad you called. The movers will be at your house in two hours. They should have everything done by noon."

  That seems unlikely, but I don't say as much. After all, anything is possible according to this guy.

  We end the call, and I run back to my apartment and shower before the movers arrive.

  If they really are on their way, I need to hurry.

  I pause in front of my brother's room, my hand resting on the cool, metal doorknob. I haven't entered his room since the day he died. I know that sounds foolish, but it's like Schrödinger's cat. There's a box with a cat in it, and the cat has an equal chance of being alive or dead. But once you open the box, it's over, the truth staring at you. As long as I keep the door closed, I can pretend my brother yet lives. At least in my own mind. Once I open the door and face the emptiness, it'll be over.

  Still.

  It's time.

  I twist the knob and close my eyes, then push the door open.

  His scent—cinnamon and honey—hits me first, and it shocks me so much I crumble to my knees with a whimper. It's as if he was just here. How is that possible?

  I open my eyes and see that the room is empty, as expected. It looks exactly as it did when he was alive, minus the hospital bed we rented for him. Now, in lieu of a bed, there are deep grooves in the carpets where the wheels had pressed in. But everything else is untouched. The bottles of medication on the side table. The open book lying face down, holding his page as if he might come back to it at any moment. His favorite socks folded just so next to his shoes.

  A breeze catches the curtains of his window, blowing through the room gently, carrying more of his scent to me. I could have sworn the window had been locked. It always was.

  Adam and I fought about it constantly. He needed fresh air, but he refused to let me leave the windows open. "I don't want to stink up the rest of the world with the scent of my death," he said.

  And so his scent grew stronger in our home, turning from the beloved and comforting and familiar, to a mutated version of itself, similar enough to inspire a fresh wave of grief, but more rancid and laced with rot. A reminder of what was to come.

  I suck in my breath and cross the room in ten steps, stopping in front of the window. When I touch it, I feel the pull of a flash, but it fades before I can follow the thread. The window slams shut quite suddenly, and without my aid, or the aid of anyone as far as I can see.

  It must have been the wind.

  I turn towards the bedroom, to face what remains of my brother. There are some things I cannot let someone else pack, or even touch. Not until I am done.

  And so I begin one item at a time, savoring the memory each of his belongings brings up in me, even as it slices a fresh wound in my already eviscerated heart.

  A sweet torture.

  In the end, I only keep one thing.

  His ring.

  He always wore it. To the very end.

  I had given it to him the day we both graduated college.

  I slip it onto my middle finger and then leave his bedroom for the last time.

  I don't know how it happens, but Derek wasn't wrong. The movers have everything cleared out by noon. I am left in an empty apartment, save my personal items. I've decided not to store anything, and to take only what I truly need and a few keepsakes.

  A fresh start, as it were.

  Letting them into my brother's room was the hardest part, but I know it's time to move on. He would want me to if nothing else.

  When the movers leave, I take out my checkbook and march down to Roger's office. He grins when he sees me. "I see you've come to your senses and are ready to discuss my terms," he says, his smile a lascivious sneer.

  He licks his lips and I shudder. I clench my fist around my checkbook, then smile. "Why, that's so sweet, but you see I've come to pay off what I owe."

  His face pales. "Well, that's great news, but surely you don't need to spend all that money when there are other ways to satisfy the debt."

  I slap the check onto his desk. "Here is my payment in full, plus interest."

  He looks at it and the sides of his lips curl up. "It seems you're several thousand dollars short."

  "About that," I say, shoving a letter into his hands featuring The Night Firm letterhead. "It seems it wasn't contractually legal for you to hike the interest after we'd signed an agreement. I've paid what was originally agreed upon. Nothing more. It's also not legal to extort sexual favors as payment for a debt, you miserable sleaze-ball. If you have any questions, you can contact my lawyer."

  I let myself gloat as I walk out of his office, leaving him gaping.

  I owe Derek a big thanks for that one.

  Tomorrow my new life begins. Today, I'm going to pamper myself and use my new expense card to make sure I have the right wardrobe for this job.

  I want to enjoy the shopping, the makeover—god I've needed a new haircut for ages—the pampering. But my mind keeps turning back to Sebastian and his brothers. They mesmerize me even as they confound me. And I still don't really know what this bloody job is. My life feels entirely too surreal.

  Back in my hotel for the night, I push myself to stay awake until morning. It's time to get used to my new sleep schedule.

  I spend the night sketching Sebastian in different poses. Tired of my obsession, I move on to other subjects. First, I sketch Matilda leaning over that strange table with the fire. Then I sketch the scene that dances in my mind like a dream, of eyes glowing silver in a face of midnight, that delicate horn in the center of her forehead.

  I manage three hours of sleep before waking in the afternoon. I realize I'm ready to go. This is too much waiting. I pass the time exercising in the hotel gym, taking a bath, eating, watching movies. Finally, it's time. I check out with all my belongings and wait in front of the hotel for the driver Derek promised. It's been awhile since I've owned a car, and I've never had a driver. This is quite a change of status for me.

  A limo pulls up at precisely seven pm and a perky young woman bounces out and smiles widely at me. "I'm Lily. I'll be your driver from now on."

  Lily has pink punk rock hair, multiple facial piercings, and wears a driver uniform that's bright neon colors mixed with tie die. It's quite the combination and it stands out starkly against her ebony skin. I'm instantly drawn to her sparkly personality.

  "I get a driver all the time?" I ask.

  She laughs. "Of course, silly. You're part of the family now."

  I don't know what she means by that, but she opens the door for me to get in, and then proceeds to pack my luggage into the trunk.

  Once we're both settled, she asks if I want the middle window up or down. "It's sound proof. You'll have complete privacy."

  "No, I like talking to you," I say, as I study the limo. I've been in one before, but this is especially nice. "Where are we going?"

  "I don't know," she says sheepishly.

  "You don't know where we're going? Then how will we get there?"

  "The GPS is prog
rammed with the current address," she says.

  "Current address? They have several homes?"

  "No, well, yes, but that's not what I meant. The home changes locations as needed for security or work."

  A shock of horror fills me. "Am I going to be living in a mobile home?" I ask.

  She laughs. "No way. Wait till you see it. It's not that kind of mobile. It's…really hard to explain. You'll have to wait to get there and see for yourself. It's going to blow your mind."

  She snaps her mouth shut. "But I'm not supposed to say too much. They want to tell you everything themselves."

  "Everything like what?" I ask, hoping I can get more out of her.

  "I'm sorry, I can't!" She squeezes her lips together and shakes her head.

  I sigh, letting her off the hook. I don't want her to get in trouble.

  "Can you at least tell me if they're a good family to work for?"

  She smiles broadly. "Oh, yes. Granny Night rescued me when I was little. I was practically raised with the Nights. The brothers are like my uncles. They can seem a bit gruff at first, but they each have a soft spot worth searching for. Don't give up on them."

  It's good to hear someone speak well of them. It makes me feel less nervous about relocating my life into theirs with so little warning.

  I resign myself to my own thoughts and wonder idly who Roger's next victim will be. A thought occurs to me, and I call Derek.

  "Hello, Miss Oliver, I trust your driver is taking good care of you and that the movers were helpful?"

  "Oh, yes, to both. And call me Eve. I… have another favor—and it's… unusual."

  "Oh, I'm intrigued," Derek says.

  "My former landlord is a sleaze to women. I'd hate to imagine another woman getting that apartment and being harassed by him. Is there anything you can do to…I don't know, make sure that doesn't happen?" I don't even know what I'm asking, and I feel like a moron. "Maybe somehow ensure it gets rented to a big, buff dude or something?"

  Derek chuckles. "I like your style, Miss…Eve. You'll fit right in, I think. I can definitely handle that. Anything else?"