Secret Worlds (81 page)

The safe is gone. I can't fulfill the request. And I've made a hell of a lot of noise. 

I take off through the door and down the hall, but every step is more painful than the last. 

The princess is in another castle.

I have failed.

***

I don't know how I made it out of the building without security stopping me. Even though they apparently did not hear the scuffle in the office, I'm sure I was running. I'm sure I looked psychotic. I certainly felt that way on the inside. Sometimes my body flips to auto pilot, though. Sometimes it gets me through those last few seconds when my brain is starting to surrender to the hum.

I can barely concentrate on the road as I stomp the gas. If anyone pulls me over, I will likely kill them. I won't have a choice. Nothing can stop me from getting back to Karl. To make him recant the wish before things get out of hand. 

Karl has recanted his wishes a few times before, due to his own change of plans. So I know it can be done. The question always is if he will.

He has to, I tell myself, over and over. This wasn't my fault. The safe wasn't there.

My fingers grip the steering wheel until they hurt, but I don't let go. My vision tunnels, but not because I'm being summoned. 

The hum is evolving. I'm moving farther and farther away from what I was told to do, even though I tried. I didn't succeed. I know I can't succeed. But the hum will make sure I figure something out.

I have no idea where the safe could be.

The Corolla's tires squeal up the mansion carport. I jump out of the car, engine still running, and race—stumbling—across the lawn. 

I shout Karl's name, and I can't stop shouting it. I know what's going to happen.

The hum is a monster. 

I burst through a set of front doors and don't slow down as I head for the summoning chamber. Karl won't be there, but I can't think of where else to go, where else he could be. How can I reach him?

I stuff my hand into my pocket and fumble for my phone. He has to recant the wish. I slow just enough to find his name among the few contacts and press dial, shaking my head like it will quiet the hum. 

The line rings once.

“Dimitri?”

I have never been so relieved to hear him say my name.

“Karl!” I gasp, my lungs straining against my ribs. “The safe wasn't there!”

“Where are you?” His voice has a hard edge.

“Recant it!” I know I shouldn't yell at him. I know I'm showing fear, but it's growing with the hum. “Recant the wish! Take it back!”

“I'll meet you in the chamber.” He hangs up.

I jam the phone into my pocket and run. I think I knock into a table, sending a few things to the ground. Neither my vision or mind are working so well at the moment.

I shove open the chamber door, the scent of argan oil spreading through my head.

“Dimitri,” Karl says. “Come here.” 

I squint to see. He is at the throne.

I hurry to him, then stop, hands on knees, struggling to breathe. “Recant … ”

“Where is the safe, Dimitri?” His voice is reprimanding. I can tell even through the noise in my skull.

“It wasn't there. I got in, but it wasn't there. I looked. I swear, I looked. It wasn't—” I can't finish my words because my abdomen clenches from the agony in my brain. 

“You know you have to bring it back,” he says. “Why would you let me down?”

I'm still hunched over, unable to find enough air. “I tried. It wasn't there. Recant the wish. Please.”

My father would be angry if he knew I was begging, but I bet he begged a few times himself. No one can handle the hum once it evolves. That's the entire point.

Karl just sits there, staring at me. The look on his face would make anyone else fear he was going to hit them. But Karl has never raised a fist at me, ever. He doesn't need to. My punishment is encoded in my DNA.

Shadows move toward me. The guards. Something pricks my arm. Warmth flows through my skin. I drop to the ground and black out. 

***

As soon as I wake, I know Karl has recanted the wish. Nothing else makes the hum stop: sex, weed, benzos. My head is silent now. Besides a few sore muscles, I feel fine.

I sit up. I'm on a hospital bed in a small room. To the side is a sink and counter. Opposite, a locker, a trash bin, and a computer-on-wheels. 

The infirmary. Since I don't actually exist on paper, I always wind up here for medical care. I suspect Karl wouldn't let any other doctors touch the prized pet anyway.

The medical staff who work in the infirmary must have a massive non-disclosure agreement.

A man enters, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope. I've never met him before, but I rarely visit this part of the mansion. Thankfully.

He stands next to my bed. “How are you feeling, champ?” 

I shrug, feet planted on the floor. “Ready to go.”

I begin to stand, but he touches my shoulder. 

“They gave you a sedative,” he says, “so you can't drive for another two hours.”

I groan as I sit back down. Two more hours of this place. Chances are, Karl's going to want to discuss the missing safe before I leave. Not like I have anything else to say. I broke in to the office, and the safe wasn't there. 

He needs to fire whoever was in charge of last night's intel.

The infirmary door opens.

“Dimitri!” Silvia hurries to my side. “Daddy said you had a breakdown!”

I lie back on the bed with an exasperated sigh. “It wasn't a—”

I don't bother explaining. A breakdown is as good of a term as any. 

She pulls up a stool I hadn't noticed. “Did you get shot?”

Her tone sounds giddy with hope.

I turn my head to her. “I thought you didn't want anything to hurt your inheritance.”

“No,” she says, “I don't want anything to
kill
my inheritance.”

“Well, then, I stand corrected.” I stare at the ceiling. “No, not shot.”

The doctor steps closer. “Miss Walker, would you like me to bring you a chair?”

Silvia looks up at him, a twinkle on her face. “That would be lovely.”

The doctor bustles away like he's her personal servant. When he returns, he's struggling with a chair that belongs in a formal living room, not an infirmary.

Silvia accepts it, patting his hand on the arm of the chair. “Thank you, dear.”

He smiles. I know that look. He's giving her a thorough exam in his head.

“Let me know if I can get you anything else,” he says, then waits for her reply.

She waves a hand to dismiss him. He steps out of the room, and she turns back to me. 

“Why don't you spend the night here?” She shakes her head. “You look horrible.”

“No, thanks,” I snap. “I'm afraid what you would do to me in my sleep.”

She giggles. “Nothing you wouldn't like.”

This is all a fuckin' joke to her.

I stand, expecting to be woozy, but the doctor has no idea what he's talking about. I squeeze around Silvia's chair to head for the door. She snags the bottom of my shirt. I brush her off and get the hell out of there before I say something I will regret.

***

Once I'm on the road back to Phoenix, I call Syd. The line rings at least a thousand times, but she finally picks up.

“Dim?” She sounds groggy. “How's work?”

“Come over,” I say, foot heavy on the gas pedal.

“Mm, okay.” She had definitely been sleeping. “Give me thirty?”

“I won't be home for a couple of hours. Please be there.” 

I hang up.

I don't know what I expect her to do. Nothing, I guess. Or maybe everything. My brain is too jumbled to make sense. 

I sigh. A few hours with Syd will get me back on track. We can just play checkers for all I care.

When I pull in to my carport, Syd is sitting on the edge of the porch, feet on the steps, staring down at her phone. Probably playing a game. Her purse and a large paper sack sit beside her.

She looks up and then waves as I cross the yard.

I pull her to her feet and kiss her. It's not sensual, and it's not a goodbye kiss either. It just is, and I've never been more thankful for anything.

When we break apart, she smiles at me with a mischievous glint. “I brought you a gift.”

I have nothing to say. My brain is lagging with too many thoughts that I can't sort out yet. So I unlock the door and stand aside as she enters.

“Long shift?” She steps out of her shoes. The heels are so thin, she might as well have been balancing on toothpicks. 

“Yeah,” I say, dumbly.

She sits on the floor, cross-legged, facing the coffee table, and begins to pull little boxes and tins out of her purse.

I take a spot next to her, our knees touching. She produces a small blue glass hookah from the paper bag and loads it up. I don't miss that she adds a little something extra. In a few minutes, she's puffing on a hose.

Then she passes the hose to me. “You need this.”

I hesitate. If my night had been a success, I wouldn't think twice about hitting with her. But I have no idea how Karl is going to react in the next few hours. If he summons me to chit-chat about the missing safe, I will have to move fast to get Syd out the door.

Screw it. I take the hose and inhale from it. After a few minutes, I have a pleasant high. I could probably shake it off if Karl comes a-calling, but, for now, I embrace it.

Syd inhales another puff, then leans back on the floor as she breathes out the smoke. She's wearing cut-up black leggings and a short green dress. Her legs are spread un-ladylike. I crawl on top of her and lower to kiss her mouth. Her expression is mild. I suspect she had a trial run with the whacky tobacky before heading over.

I lie down next to her, and we stare at the ceiling like we're watching the stars. 

“My grandma is relocating to Europe next week,” Syd says out of nowhere.

“That's nice.” I don't bother to move, not even to look at her. “Where to?”

“Italy. She tried to go to France, but I asked her not to. I hate Paris.”

I laugh, still watching the ceiling. “Who hates Paris?”

“Have you been?” Her tone is accusatory.

“No, can't say I have.”

“I like Italy more.” After a few silent moments, she sighs. “When I was little and she lived in Phoenix, sometimes I would get upset and runaway to her house. I guess my parents knew where I went, but she would let me stay there as long as I wanted. 

“She eventually ran away herself. She went to New Mexico and opened a restaurant so she could bake pies all day. When I got my first car, I started running away again. Every time I was upset or scared, I'd drive to her house. 

“But now she says New Mexico isn't far enough from the rest of the family, so she's moving to Italy. She left me the keys to her place, so I can still runaway.” Syd turns her head to look at me again. “The house is vacant.”

At this moment, so is my brain. I don't respond. I have no idea what we're talking about.

Syd seems to figure this out. 

She props herself on her elbows. “Let's go to New Mexico for a weekend.”

I have an urge to pack right then. We could leave now and arrive before breakfast tomorrow. That includes stopping for a backseat romp along the way.

The trip can't happen. I wouldn't be able to explain to her if I have to leave for work, or to Karl if he notices any charges on the cards.

I've never had to admit just how trapped I am. It's obvious now that my world involves more than just waiting for Karl to figure out the next move in the chess game that is my life.

Maybe I shouldn't have accepted change, but I'm not about to give it back. 

“We'll go,” I say, but I doubt the words are even mine. “Write down the address, and I'll figure something out.”

She has no idea what I've just agreed to.

***

We lie on the floor watching TV, stirring only to refill the hookah and smoke it down. When evening fades in, we gather enough energy to put on our shoes and walk to the taco shop at the end of the block. 

We eat
carne asada
tacos without speaking. It's a pleasant silence, where we are both just content with our food and our high and the fact we're going to screw like rabbits on Viagra after we  stop being so damn lazy.

Syd looks up at me, taco in hand. “Did you know it used to be illegal to import avocados into the U.S. from Mexico?”

I'm certain I missed the first half of this conversation. “Um, why?”

“Flies,” she says. “The U.S. government thought the avocados were infested with fruit flies.”

“So, there was a shortage of guacamole and it had to be rationed?” I give her a dubious look then laugh. “Was there an underground guacamole trade? You could buy it in half pints, but it's going to cost you?”

She shrugs. “No one went to look. They just thought they had flies and wouldn't import them. The Mexican government tried to barter, but they didn't get anywhere. So they put restrictions on importing from us.”

Syd's brain must be a strange place.

Her face looks serious, and she's no longer eating. Just drifting on her thoughts about produce and insects. 

“Finally, they sent someone to Mexico and they checked thousands of avocados. There weren't any flies. Never had been.” She drops her taco to her Styrofoam plate and frowns at it. “Can we go back now?”

I glance at my last taco, then at Syd. Her eyes are red. She has been hitting for a while, but I don't remember her eyes being that way when we left the house.

“Yeah, we can go,” I say, scooping up our plates and plastic ramekins. I dump them in the trash bin, and we head back to my place. 

Syd is quiet on the walk and after we arrive. It's not the pleasant sort anymore. I think I'm supposed to be upset about the history of avocados. She doesn't seem angry that I'm not, but maybe disappointed.

We lie on the floor to watch TV and doze. We don't even have sex, but I'm content with the warmth of her body against mine. Around midnight, she kisses me goodbye before leaving. And I still can't figure out why we were talking about avocados.

Late in the morning, Karl summons me. I expect he just wants to talk about what happened with the safe. Calling on the phone would be too mundane.