“Yeah, yeah.”
“And it’s yours now?”
“Yeah, well half of it, but I don’t deal with it. I don’t know.” I really didn’t pay attention to any of it. I signed some papers when I turned eighteen, and I was given a checkbook that I had some fun with in college, but had rarely used since. “It’s all real estate and investment stuff I don’t really understand. I’m content to live my life and let the ‘fund’ pay for someone else to manage it.”
Her eyes met mine. “Never mind that for now. These rich and powerful guys, though, don’t they all belong to the secret societies for the rich and powerful guys?”
The wine nearly came through my nose, “What are you talking about?”
“You know, fraternities, brotherhoods; I suspect some country clubs. Come on, you have to have paid some attention to me talking about this stuff.”
“You mean like Free Masons and the Knights Templar?” Jayden was a history major with a specialization in the occult stuff. Her thesis was on the Free Masons if I recalled correctly. “Yes, I pay some attention to you, but I’m not seeing where you’re going.” I could not picture my father as a member of such a group.
“You said this - Shadow Watcher? Is that what we’re calling him? - he told you the ‘arrangement’ was made long ago?”
“Yes.”
“Did he happen to mention how long ago?”
I shrugged. “At my birth for all I know.”
“And he’s how old?”
She might figure out the not aging thing herself. “I don’t know. He looks to be about our age, but you know how bad I am at figuring how old people are.”
“It’s getting harder to tell with so many people having procedures now.”
“True, true,” I agreed. It was a good excuse.
She sat back sipping her wine and smoking another cigarette. “I’m going to have to do some reading and get back to you before I form an opinion.”
“An opinion?” I echoed.
She sighed a shook her head. “I don’t think it’s out of the realm of question your father paid him a healthy sum to protect you, and made arrangements in case of his death. You said so yourself, the ‘fund’ takes care of itself, right?” I nodded, she continued, “Your dad was rich, therefore he had enemies. The two go hand in hand. Your mother may or may not know about it, but there are some things I want to look into.”
“Like what?”
“Interesting people your father may have been connected to.”
I had no idea what she was thinking, but figured there was no harm in her digging around. “And what should I do in the meantime?”
“You could go hang out in a dark alley and hope your Shadow Watcher turns up again. That seems to work well for you.” She topped that one off with a big glob of sarcasm.
“Really?”
“No, you idiot, bolt the door and open it to no one but me. Someone is obviously after you for something.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Thank you for the enlightenment.”
“Oh, I’m not done. I’ll be back in the morning, I’ve already got some ideas rolling around in my head,” she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, “but I need my library.” By this, she meant the internet, or her collection of obscure volumes that lined the walls of her apartment. Or, in this case, she would probably need some combination of both. “Promise me you won’t leave ‘til I come back.”
“I promise,” we got up and moved to the door.
“Wait,” she darted back to the bag on the table. She smiled as she held up two fortune cookies, “We almost forgot.”
“You first, I’m not sure I want to see mine.”
Jayden snapped hers in two, popping one half in her mouth as she pulled the paper carefully from the other. “Well that sucks, here are my winning lotto numbers, and it’s too late to buy a ticket.”
I cracked mine open, hoping for numbers as well, but I already knew it wasn’t my lucky day. “The truth is often not expected, even in plain sight,” I read aloud. “What the hell kind of fortune is that?”
A dark shadow crossed Jayden’s face. “Question.”
“Shoot.”
She fired away, “Does Bailey know who your father is?” She had been itching to ask.
“No,” I scowled. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”
“Never mind why. Are you sure you’ve never mentioned him?”
I nodded my head. “We’ve never discussed my father, other than I mentioned he passed away when I was young, sometime in the first couple months of our relationship. I don’t think I told him how.” I thought about it, “No, I know I didn’t, and he never asked.”
She bit her lower lip, “Have you ever Googled yourself?” I shook my head. “Try it.”
“You’re creeping me out, dude. Have you?”
“I have, and on the surface it’s all your profiles and writing stuff, but a search for Samantha Marquet’s father turns up several articles that would give the details of his death, and indicate your worth.” She hugged me. “It’s just a random thought and probably nothing. Still, sit tight ‘til the morrow.”
CHAPTER 7
09/24/2006
A Bedtime Story
After Jay left, I went back to work at my computer. I found it hard to concentrate with the doubts about Bailey she’d planted in my head. It wasn’t long before I had another reason to be distracted.
This time, I knew he was watching; I could feel his eyes on me. I rose casually from my seat, and made as though I was heading for the restroom. I turned the corner and flattened myself against the wall. Inching back around to the sliding glass door, I caught a glimpse of him crouched on the balcony.
In one fluid motion, I pushed the door open and stepped through. I caught him off-guard for once, and he hopped back and teetered on his heels for a second. “Why don’t you just come to my front door like a normal person?”
“Because the circumstances of our acquaintance are not normal,” he replied as he stood.
“I see,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, given the circumstances, it's probably best we have this talk indoors.” I stepped back across the threshold, “That is unless you were planning on drugging me and running off again.”
He followed me in, sliding the door shut and locking it, “No, I came back to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt. You haven’t been able to get much work done the last few days.”
“No, I haven’t,” I answered while processing what he’d said. “Wait how….” I thought about it again, “Obviously, because you’re paid to watch me.”
My mounting frustration with lack of information must have been apparent on my face, and he didn’t ignore it. “You’ve been handling this well so far, Samantha.” He took off the sunglasses, and tucked them inside his coat. “It’s time for me to answer some of your questions.”
I decided on the right word for Jayden - striking. In a hot, dreamy way. “How about starting with your name?”
“Michael,” he answered.
I extended my hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through me when he took it in his strong grasp. “Nice to meet you,” I exhaled.
He smiled, and I probably held his hand a second too long before reluctantly letting go. Embarrassed, I turned and gestured to the couch. “Shall we sit? Would you like something to drink?”
He sat down, “No, thank you. You might want another glass of wine though.”
I sat down, and started with what was at the top of my mind, “Why don’t you age?”
He knew exactly what I meant. “For the same reason those men are after you. Unfortunately, they think you know things that you don’t know yet.”
“Am I about to find these things out now?” To say that I was anxious would be a gross understatement.
“Some of them,” he leaned back, but maintained a serious expression. “Samantha…”
“Sam, please,” I interrupted. “My father was the only one who r
eally called me Samantha; it makes me feel like a little girl.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, please, go on.”
“You know your father was a wealthy man.” I nodded. “His wealth extends far beyond what you know of, and he spent much longer amassing it than you think.” He paused before continuing, “It began with your grandfather in fifteen thirteen, and your father inherited it when he was killed in nineteen twenty-five.”
My laughter interrupted him, “You meant nineteen thirteen, right?”
He looked perplexed, “No, I mean one-five-one-three. The sixteenth century.”
“But....” Math was never my favorite subject, but basic subtraction told me the dates didn’t add up. “Fifteen thirteen? That’s ridiculous.”
“Sam, I need you to open your mind,” his voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. I was either dreaming or ready for the trip to the loony bin. “What I’m telling you is the truth.”
I stood and started pacing around the room, and he quietly let me digest the information. I consider myself to be a relatively bright girl, so when a man who appeared to have not aged a day in nearly seventeen years told me my grandfather was alive almost five hundred years ago, wine or no, I knew I’d entered the Twilight Zone.
I just spit out the next thing that came to mind. “You’re not a vampire, because you’ve been here before, and I didn’t invite you in until tonight. But, I also remember seeing you, a long time ago, and you haven’t aged. I am so confused.”
“See?” He smiled, showing his perfectly human teeth. “No fangs. As far as I know, they don’t exist. Was it at your father’s funeral that you saw me?”
“Yes, there’s a picture with you in the background. I’ve seen you other times since, and before the other night. I just never connected it all before.” I could tell he was holding back big things, afraid to shatter my delicate mind. “My imagination goes pretty way out there Michael. If my life is on the line, you need to deal me all the cards.”
“I would if it were that easy,” he sighed and leaned back. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to settle for bits and pieces for now, there’s too much to tell. It’s hard to know where to start; I wasn’t supposed to be the one to have this conversation with you.”
“Then who was?” I asked.
“Ideally, it would have been your grandfather. He was the best equipped to explain everything.” Michael laced his fingers behind his head, and continued, “He stumbled upon a plant - a very rare tree – which bears fruit with properties that reverse cellular damage so effectively, those who consume it are rejuvenated. Eating the seed will give an eighty year old the body of a twenty year old again.”
I gaped at him in amazement. “The fountain of youth isn’t a fountain?”
He shrugged. “That legend may still be, but the source of my youth is the Flamella tree.”
“I see.” I drank it in with another gulp of wine. The stories my father told me were coming true. There is a tree, and a Shadow Watcher. Does that make me the princess?
He cleared his throat and continued, “To harness this power, and use it to the fullest potential, your grandfather needed help. He initially enlisted six of his closest friends, adding more members along the way, and they began to refer to themselves as the Society in the Shadows of Civilization. We generally call it the Society for short.
“Under the direction of your grandfather, who became known as the Sovereign of Time, and with the assistance of his six Council members, the Society grew to a network of thousands, and eventually tens of thousands across the world. We have representatives in every developed nation, and eighty-eight percent of the undeveloped ones. Their occupations run the gamut - doctors, professors, librarians, lawyers, judges, mechanics, teachers, sanitation workers, politicians, scientists, bankers, restaurant workers, nurses, janitors, oil and real estate tycoons, artists and just about everything else in between.”
Curious, I asked, “Why do you need doctors if the fruit can heal you?”
“Sometimes, a medical crisis arises when no fruit is available, and a Society member may be admitted to a regular hospital for care,” he explained. “Then, one of our legally board certified doctors flies in as the patient’s personal physician, can administer the fruit, if necessary, and bask in the glory of performing a medical miracle. The doctor then signs off on the patient’s release, and they return to life as usual.
“Every so many years, those who live a public life have to ‘die,’ and then reemerge in the world as a twenty-something. Having actual doctors and lawyers involved in the paperwork associated with death and leaving belongings behind helps, though we have some of the best document forgers in our circle.”
I put up my hand to stop him. “I need to make sure I have this right. You all go around living a full life, fake your own deaths, and then start over as adults with a new identity, again and again?”
He nodded, and continued, “This network has been operating now for almost five hundred years, and, as you can imagine, it is filled with certain perils.” Here he paused, gauging my reaction thus far.
“He who controls the tree is in the most danger,” I whispered.
He nodded, clearly pleased with my reaction. “Indeed, he and those closest to him, such as his son, your father. That is what necessitated the formation of another elite faction within the Society, of which I became a member in 1881, The Shadow Watch.
“Our function was to shadow and protect the Sovereign, and the others appointed by him to fall under our protection, such as the Council members. I served your father until he assigned me to you when you were eight.
“After his death, all the Society had left of the plant was what fruit was dried and stored, which will still last a while longer, but certainly not forever. The Council believes your father left you clues that could lead you to the plant.”
“Are you not just as anxious to find it?”
He gazed off, as if looking at something very far away. “If I cannot find the meaning of happiness in this lifetime, I never will.”
It was the way he spoke, more than the words he used, I found odd - cryptic - but I put it aside for later reflection, and continued my questioning. “So, what you’re saying is that my father’s former ‘friends’ are out to get me?”
“In short, yes. We face a multitude of enemies, including a number of factions within the Society. There are a few rather powerful people who have lived for centuries, and aren’t so willing to let that change any time soon.
“There are also, potentially, those who have discovered the Society, and want to get their hands on the key to longevity.”
“I thought you said the Society was a secret?”
“Just as with any so-called secret society, rumors will inevitably leak out. There have been a few groups over the centuries that sought out the Society. Now, it could be any number of people, conspiracy theorists, historians, and people like you and Jayden - who have the internet and insomnia.”
“That’s all fabulous for them, but I still don’t understand what any of it has to do with me? This is the first I’ve heard of all this, and Dad’s gone.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are his heir, which means they assume he has left you with the Flamella tree, as his father left it with him.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Yes he did.”
There was simply absolutely nothing I could say to that. What could be said? My father left me his book collection, a curious mind and a thirst for adventure. There was also the financial empire and real estate around the world. But I knew nothing of a tree.
I had never known my father to tend to a plant in his life. Then again, according to Michael, my father had lived a lot more life than I had known. Anything was possible, if I believed everything Michael said, which I did. I still can’t explain why, but I knew he wasn’t lying.
I just stared at Michael for a few minutes while I tried to assi
milate all he’d told me. So this is what the other side of the looking glass feels like. Curious. I almost detached from myself, like I was watching a movie with me in it.
“Sam, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
I blinked my eyes at him a few times. That was about all I could muster.
For a moment the coolness of his exterior faded away, and it seemed as if perhaps he wanted to comfort me somehow, but he put his façade back up a moment later. “You told me you were ready,” he taunted me.
“I’m sorry,” I snapped back, regaining my motor functions. “Give a girl a minute, you’re asking me to absorb a five hundred year old story!”
He laughed, “All right, there she is.” It was frightening that he knew me well enough to elicit that reaction.
I tried to stay focused, but my mind was barely able to tread water in this sea of information. “If my father left me this Flamella tree, then where is it? Why haven’t I seen it before?”
“It’s hidden someplace where even we can’t get it for now.”
“But these people are trying to grab me, even though I know nothing about it?”
“They believe you do know about it. They can’t fathom the concept that your parents wanted you to have a normal life; that they kept all of this from you is beyond their comprehension.” He looked at his watch, “I’m sorry, but I need to get on to the rest. There’s not much time left.”
“There’s more?”
He gave a wry smile, “If you’re ready.”
“Ready or not, someone’s after me.”
“Right and we’re dealing with multiple potential enemies here. I’ve been looking into Mr. Morrison; he has been tracing lines of the Society for some time.”
“And he’s not one of you? Someone you haven’t met before?”
“He doesn’t have the mark.”
“What mark?”
He pulled his glasses out of his pocket, and handed them to me. “Put them on.” So I did.
I was shocked to find the room was brighter, not dimmer as I expected. Then I looked at Michael and saw the glowing royal blue and teal symbol right in the middle of his forehead. I jumped to my feet, taking the glasses off, and the mark was gone. I put them back on, and it was there. “What are you?”