Read by the Author: The Eight of Swords
Reaching down under the ankle of his red Chucks, Tafari pulled his right sock back into its proper position. It had fallen at least six times over the course of the day, so he made a mental note to not wear that style again.
The elevator bell dinged, announcing that he had reached floor 25, so he adjusted his leather jacket — and his posture — and prepared to step out. When the doors opened, he was met with two large men — obviously his boss’ bodyguards — and one escorted him to the next door, which was down a long, empty hallway.
They did not speak. The only two sounds in the hallway were shoes meeting with the marble floors and Tafari’s chains keeping his wallet connected to his belt loops clanging against one another.
At their destination — a room sealed off by double doors that seemingly reached to the sky — the silent guard simply rose an eyebrow at the one guarding the door, handing Tafari off as if he was uninvited and, therefore, in for a less than pleasant welcoming.
The guard opened the doors, the sound echoing througout the hall and the room that they revealed.
A small girl with pencils in her hair, holding her bun in place, looked up from a desk. “Ah, yes, Tafari. She was expecting you.”
She nodded at Tafari’s escort, and he left, shutting the door behind him. Tafari could tell that the guard had tried to be quiet about the door, but with nothing on the walls and no carpets, there was nothing for the sound to do but bounce around.
The girl — appearing no more than 16 — stood up, smiling at Tafari. Her cheeks sparkled as if she had overdone it on the glitter for a night out. “She’s in quite the mood today, so, hopefully, you have some good news for her?”
A small smile appeared on his face. “I think I do. I hope so.”
“Well, you usually do. She’s always pleased with your progress. You’re one of her top guys.” She paused and then shyly — but mustering up all the courage that she could — added, “I always enjoy your visits.” Her cheeks flushed and she pushed a stray hair behind her pointed ear. The sparkle in her hair almost looked like tinsel.
Tafari reached out and moved to touch her hand, but stopped himself, not wanting to cross a line or lead the fairy on. Instead he replied, “Nellie, I also enjoy our brief visits.”
Nellie nearly skipped to the door. She pressed a buzzer, and a cold reply came through the speaker. “Enter.”
This was the only door in the suite that didn’t echo like they were in an ancient castle. The room that his boss worked from was more or less sound proof. She felt like it was necessary, with all of the moving parts of the secret project that they had been working on.
As soon as the door shut, Tafari’s boss waved him forward. She sat behind a desk like a TV mob boss. Her desk had ridiculously gaudy items on it — a gold globe, a model of the scales of justice, ornate books, an ancient telephone — just absolutely unnecessary stuff. The only item of use was her computer. Even next to her desk was a serving cart of different beverages and a bucket of ice.
His boss even wore a ring on her pinky. She looked up from her computer, and the green and yellow scars down the one side of her face caught the light on them. Everyone that worked for her knew the story — as revenge for a small error in judgment, a werewolf had disfigured her. The project that Tafari was helping her with? Payback.
The werewolf in question was unhinged — he had killed an innocent woman before and scattered her severed body parts in front of her seven-year-old child. Moments before disfiguring Tafari’s employer, she had witnessed him tear someone apart — that someone was that same child, as an adult.
Tafari wasn’t overly passionate about the project, but his employer was wealthy and powerful. She was going to expunge any black marks on his record and pay him handsomely — for both milestones in the work and for completion of the project.
She motioned for Tafari to take a seat. “So tell me, Friend, what progress have you made?”
He smiled. “The siren-like being you described — I found her.”
Clapping excitedly, she exclaimed, “Wonderful!”
Nodding, he continued. “I’ve actually continued with the plan, a few steps beyond where we had thought I would be right now. I felt that it would have been awkward to not.”
The untouched side of her face frowned. “Explain. Why would you do that?”
Standing, he went over to the drink cart and poured himself a scotch on the rocks. “Through pure happenstance, I met her and we hit it off. Well, she felt like we did. I couldn’t not call her. We’ve gone on a few dates. She’s…she’s quite interesting, really.” He took his seat and continued. “I think I could really grow to like her, if…”
She slammed her hand on the desk. “Stay on task, Tafari. She’s a pawn. She’s going to help us get the manpower and supplies that we need, and then, she’ll fight along side us. If — and it’s a big if — if she survives, then maybe you can start thinking about a future with her. But, for now, I need you to concentrate on the mission.” She let out a sigh. “Now, tell me, where exactly are you in the plan? How long do you think that it will take to convince her to join the cause?”
He smiled. “She turns 19 in a few days, and I’m taking her out on Friday. I’m going to take next steps then.” Part of being a vampire meant that he could charm her easily into doing anything he wanted.
She typed a few things into her computer. “You do realize, though, what this means for you? We’re going to move forward, and it may be sooner than expected.”
Tafari nodded. “I understand.” He looked down at his feet and then back at her. “Your contact within the Council — they can get the sentence revoked once this is all over?” Tafari did not want an eternity as a gargoyle any more than he wanted, well, any form of imprisonment or torture.
Confidently, she nodded. “I’ve already begun the preparations.” The unmarked side of her face smiled, and then she looked softly at him with her good eye. “I promise, Tafari, it will all work out.” She added, “And, then, if the timing is right, maybe you could be with her — for real.” She rose the glass on her desk, and he touched his gently to hers. With a sweet smile, she toasted a quick, “Cheers!”
Before Tafari could stand to leave, she waved for him to sit. “I’m a woman of my word.” After a few keyboard clicks, Tafari felt his phone vibrate a few times in his pocket.
He pulled it out to check — a sizable deposit had gone into his bank account, and a notice that two items on his record had been expunged. “Thank you.” They nodded at each other, and Tafari made his way to the exit.
Tafari knocked gently on the apartment door. The entire building was rundown. Old. It appeared that there were knife marks actually in the walls surrounding the door — there may have been two or three in the door itself. It smelled like black mold.
The door opened just a crack and then fully. “Right on time!” The young woman smiled widely and invited Tafari in. “It’s not much, but make yourself at home. I just need to change my purse, and I’ll be ready.”
She moved quickly across the studio apartment and opened a closet door. Getting onto her toes, she struggled to reach for a basket.
Making his way to her in an instant, he placed his hand on her lower back and reached over her. “Allow me, Xariella.” He pulled the basket off of the shelf and placed it on her bed.
She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and then started digging through the basket, trying to hide that she was blushing. Upon finding the pocketbook that she was looking for, she was able to quickly change things out.
Xariella didn’t have to ask and Tafari was already putting the basket up where he had gotten it from. In fact, he didn’t even hide the speed in which he could move.
Squinting her eyes slightly, she asked, “How did you do that?”
He smiled. “Do what?”
“Move so quickly. You were like a blur…” She went into the bathroom to grab her thermometer. Placing the reader to her forehead, she pressed the button and then checked the result. “97.8 — that’s normal for me. I always run a little low…Hmmm.”
He stood just outside the bathroom. “You’re not sick, Xariella. You weren’t seeing things.”
Biting her lower lip, she asked again. “How did you do it?”
Tafari took her hand and lead her to her bed. Motioning for her to sit, he requested, “Promise that you’ll keep an open mind — and that you’ll let me explain.”
Nodding slowly, she replied, “Okay.”
Tafari sat next to her on the bed and held her hand in his. “Xariella, I’m able to move quickly because I’m…I’m not exactly human.” She blinked a few times but said nothing. He decided to just rip the bandaid off. “I’m a vampire.” He smiled widely and opened his mouth so that she could watch his teeth — the ones that carried his venom — grow.
She jumped back. “Ummm…are you going to kill me? Just tell me.”
He shook his head. “No, Xariella, I’m not going to kill you.” Tafari slid closer to her. “I have enjoyed our time together, and I want it to continue.”
Xariella’s heart was pounding so loudly that Tafari could hear it. He could see the pulse in her neck.
He smiled and leaned closer to her, kissing her neck gently. “Xariella, have you enjoyed spending time with me?”
She nodded. “Y-y-yes.”
He whispered in her ear, “You don’t need to be scared.” She was shaking, so he backed off a little. “I can leave, if you want.” He stood up so quickly that his movement made a whoosh sound.
“No!” She stood up. “I…I like you. I want to be with you.”
Tafari smiled — his charms were working. He moved closer, putting his arms around her. “For how long?”
Xariella asked exactly what he had hoped she would. “Can you make me like you?” Everything was going according to plan.
He nodded. “I’ll only do it if you want me to.” When she nodded excitedly, he lifted her up and placed her on the bed. His hand slid up her thigh and under her skirt. “It’s going to hurt, but if I distract you, it may hurt less.” He smirked at her.
She nodded and spoke, “Yes. It’s my birthday and I was actually hoping…”
Tafari placed his mouth to hers and they kissed as they undressed one another in a passionate blur. Their bodies connected and Xariella moaned into his mouth.
As they moved together, her heartbeat got faster, Tafari felt her body heat up and tense. As she called out his name, he plunged his sharp teeth into her skin, at the pulse point on her neck. His venom flowed directly into her bloodstream, making its way through her entire body.
Gently, he removed his mouth from Xariella’s neck and looked into her eyes. She reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth, and Tafari asked, “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Just a little tired, actually. Exhilarated and tired at the same time, y’know?”
Placing his hand behind her head, he held her as she moved to lay down. “Rest.” She tried to fight it, but her eyes closed. For a few hours, he just watched her while she slept.
Sliding out of bed, Tafari grabbed his phone and looked out the window. He glanced back at Xariella, as she slept, snoring softly.
He pulled up the text message chain he had with his boss and typed one word. “Now.” Somewhat reluctantly, he pressed send, knowing that it meant his time with Xariella would be cut short.
It was a mere 20 minutes before he got the notification — there was a reward set for his capture. His alleged crime? Creating an immortal child.
The Council acted as if it was a crime because someone so young couldn’t make the decision without being coerced, but it was really because immortal children were unruly — they could never mentally develop beyond where they were.
Tafari admittedly felt that the charge in regards to Xariella was bogus — even beyond the fact that he was doing it as ordered by his boss. Xariella was 19. An adult. Free to make her own choices in the mortal world. The law he was in violation of wasn’t specific about the age, but since teen was in the number, the Council could make the case, and, of course, their word is final, and they would win.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door — an angry, wood cracking thud. Xariella woke up, startled. “Wha — what’s going on?” She pulled the covers around her body tightly.
Tafari knew that a bounty hunter had already found him. His boss must have had someone at the ready. He took a deep breath and then turned to Xariella. “Listen, I need you to hide.” He opened the closet door. “Get in there. Wait until it’s safe, and then go to this address.” He texted her. “Ask for Nellie. Tell her that Tafari sent you.” He leaned over and kissed her. “She’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Shaking, Xariella’s eyes grew huge. Barely able to speak, all that came out was “But…”
He grabbed her by the arm. “There’s no time.” Shoving her in the closet, he kissed her again. “Wait until it’s safe, and then wait some more.”
The closet door clicked shut, and Tafari headed towards the front door. Opening it just a crack, he asked, “Can I help you?”
The man on the other side shoved through, punching Tafari in the face immediately.
When Tafari finally came to, he was being dragged out of the back of a car. He barely had his footing and his vision was blurry, but he knew where he was. The center of Nightbrooke, the supernatural town hidden somewhere within the mortal world.
He was already being punished for his alleged crime. Tafari worried that this wasn’t a bounty hunter on his team, and, if that was the case, he worried that Xariella wasn’t safe. If she wasn’t safe, then he was about to be punished for eternity — not just until his boss succeeded. And, worse, Xariella may end up punished as well.
The bounty hunter yanked on the chains, nearly pulling Tafari’s arms out of place at the shoulders. Tafari was so surprised to feel pain — he hadn’t felt it since becoming a vampire — that he lost concentration and tripped, scraping his face along the dirt and stones. The bounty hunter kept walking, dragging Tafari along. Unable to use his hands to get up, it took Tafari several yards before he was back on his feet.
Once he reached the stairs to the platform, the bounty hunter, glaring at him through a mask, pulled the chain hard enough that Tafari stumbled in front of him. The bounty hunter added a tough shove to the middle of his prisoner’s back, forcing Tafari to the center of the staging area.
Reon, The King of the Abyss, was already on the stage, patiently waiting on the side. He stepped forward, shoes clicking loudly against the wood flooring.
Tafari looked around, seeing other representatives of the Council off to the side of the stage: Alvin of the Shifters, the witches, and a vampire, who was obviously disgusted and shamed by Tafari’s alleged transgression.
Even though he agreed to this, Tafari was shaking so hard that the metal cuffs on his wrists were clanging. He tried not to look down at the crowd as they stared at him, but two women in the front row were pointing, whispering, and giggling. He closed his eyes to avoid finding others that were doing the same.
Reon continued to read from his scroll, explaining the charges. There wasn’t even a glimmer of hesitation in his eyes — not even a wink of remorse for what he was about to do.
For a moment, Tafari wondered if his boss had really let anyone on the Council know the plan. He shook the thought away. He trusted her. Of course she followed through on her promise, and, as soon as their project was completed, she would work to free him.
Suddenly, a silence grew over the crowd. Dust began to kick up in front of the three witches, as if a propeller had kicked on at full power.
The wall of dust grew, covering the front of the stage and then it transitioned in to a cyclone. As the funnel of dust came towards him, all Tafari could hear was what sounded like a freight train. Unable to control his fear any longer, he closed his eyes tightly and screamed as the wind and dust surrounded him.
Almost instantly, there was silence. A silence so deafening, Tafari wondered if he had been transported to a soundproof room.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes to check out his surroundings. Darkness. Complete darkness. Not even a glimmer of light. Tafari reached his hands up to touch his face — to feel if his eyes were actually still in his head.
He felt the lumps that were his eyeballs behind his closed eyelids, and then slid his fingers gently down his cheeks. The dust and debris from the cyclone hadn’t sliced him up much; his cheek was tender — most likely from the bounty hunter’s fist.
Tafari decided to see how much space he had in this dark reality. He reached his arms out as far as they would go, realizing for the first time that the shackles that had adorned him while on the stage were gone.
He wanted to take a step, but, in the dark, he wasn’t sure what risks were around. For no reason that could possibly make sense, Tafari closed his eyes tightly and took one slow, cautious step forward.
He tapped his toe forward again, moving his hands and arms around him slowly, feeling the air. Taking another step and then another, Tafari realized that the terrain was flat. Smooth.
“Perhaps I should consider crawling,” he said aloud to the vast darkness. He realized, though, that he wouldn’t know if he could walk upright if he just moved around on all fours. Plus, the ground was firm. He risked making his knees sore.
He continued to move slowly, tapping the ground with the toes of his shoes lightly before committing to a step forward.
After about two dozen or so steps, his hands touched what he believed to be a wall. Smooth. Cold. Immovable. He slid his hands up and down the wall. There was no sign of any imperfections. No cracks; no seams; no hinges signaling that there was a doorway.
Tafari turned to his right, leaving his left hand on the wall and putting his right out in front of him. He cautiously moved forward, taking steps as he had before.
After about two dozen steps, he hit another wall. Tafari repeated this process three times, and, based on the angle of the corners, determined that he was in a square room — with no doors or windows and a flat, smooth floor.
He had no way out. He was just going to have to sit there and wait. Wait patiently for his boss to secure his release.
Tafari had no idea how long that would take. It could be days until his team was able to complete the project — or it could be months or years. It didn’t matter. Tafari had no way of tracking the time.
He had no way to pass the time. No music. Couldn’t read in the dark, even if their were books. No ticking of a clock — not even the sound of dripping water.
Tafari was alone. In the dark. For as long as it would take. And, since he was immortal, he didn’t have to worry about dying in this prison — but perhaps he should have considered worrying about what would happen to him the longer he lived in there.