6.3 Truth and Consequences

Across the desk in my shiny, new office, a Jojo Siwa look-a-like smiled, blinking innocently back at me. According to her work, she was a complete and total psychopath. Her paintings were barbaric. Depraved. The stuff of nightmares. And exactly what Dark Dorian was looking for.

"Do you think Mr. Darkwater will approve?"

"Absolutely." I closed the catalog with a polite smile, sliding it back across the table. She picked it up, hugging it close. "We'll be in touch, Ms. Powell."

Squealing in happiness, Amanda showed herself out. As soon as the door closed, I leaned back in my seat with a heavy exhale, hands behind my head.

Since killing the hunters, Dark Dorian had already approved three new artists for display. Business was booming. The arrival of the mysterious, handsome, new gallery owner had brought new clients and patrons flocking. Drawing myself together, I rose from my seat and left the office, padding across the hall. On the way, I was stopped by a delivery man his ball cap pulled low over his eyes.

He spoke in a gruff, hurried voice. "Delivery for Mr. Darkwater."

In a hurry, I signed for the package and took the small box from his hands. We parted ways and I continued down the hall, knocking sharply on Dark Dorian's door.

"In!"

Since the fight with his double, the furniture had been replaced and the artwork restored, with no trace of the violence left behind. A few clever paintings of ATM's had been added, ensuring Dark Dorian's access to unlimited funds and luxury. Inside the office, Dark Dorian leaned back in his chair. The moment I entered, Jane the Intern lifted her head from his lap, crawling from under his desk to straighten her pencil skirt.

"We'll continue this later, shall we?"

"Of course, Mr. Darkwater." Head low, she avoided my murderous gaze as she scurried past me to the door.

Dark Dorian chuckled, zipping his slacks as he rose.

"The intern? Really?" I scoffed. "You're cliché. And disgusting."

His dark gaze twinkled with mischief. "Does it make you uncomfortable, luv? Or does it make you jealous?"

"It makes me sick. Here. This came for you." I dropped the package on his desk, arms folded as he proceeded to open the box. "Amanda Powell just left. Would you like to see her work before I add her to payroll?"

"Why? You've proven your adeptness at the job. I trust you entirely." He winked. "Not that I've completely forgiven your betrayal."

"What betrayal?"

Dorian paused, the flaps of the box hanging open. "You destroyed your paintings. Not to mention summoning hunters--you and your little friends got in my way. Didn't I say there'd be consequences?"

"Like what?"

"Like..." A devious smile spread across his face. "That party you were invited to, the one at the lake--you're going."

A chill ran down my spine. "Why?"

Dark Dorian tapped his nose. "Spoilers."

"I hate you."

"That's what makes it fun." Smirking, his hands took a dive in the box, spilling foam peanuts as he retrieved a bottle of champagne. "Hmph. What's this?"

I shrugged. "No return address." I took a seat at the edge of his desk. "Must be a gift from another thrilled client."

"Thanks to your hard work." He inspected the bottle's label. "Taittinger--splendid year. Shall we celebrate?"

"I'm not in the mood--hey!" I ducked, cursing when Dark Dorian popped the cork in my direction.

Laughing, he poured himself a drink, raising his glass in salute. "Cheers." He took a swig, then returned to his seat behind the desk, sniffing his glass. "Can I ask you something?"

"No."

"What is it about my other half that keeps you so... inclined? You don't find him a boring, shallow, whining little cunt?"

"You just described yourself, genius."

He took another sip, grinning behind his glass. "He cares for you."

I straightened, trying to hide my discomfort. "So what?"

"So, he'll kill us both to save you. It's delusional, albeit sickeningly sentimental."

"It's brave. Of course you wouldn't understand."

"There's a thin line between the brave and the selfish. From here on out it only gets thinner." He cleared his throat, wincing as he loosened the collar of his suit. "Is it rather hot?" He was sweating.

"It's hotter where you're going." I picked up the bottle, inspecting the label. "Frankly, I think you're the jealous one. You're miserable and you want everyone else to feel the same. You could make a life for yourself but you'd rather make enemies. It's pathetic, really." I set the champagne aside, noticing the strange look on his face. "Dorian?"

His nose has begun to bleed; blood leaked from the corner of his eyes.

"Dorian?" For a moment, panic set in. I nearly forgot he was the demon I wanted gone and not the person I wanted to save.

He lost his balance, knocking his glass and papers from the desk as he fell, gasping like a fish.

"Tr-trick," he rasped, his mouth foaming as the blood leaked down his face.

"What?" I walked around the desk, staring down at him in confusion. "I-I don't understand. What's happening to you?"

"Cham-pagne--poison."

And then it clicked. I picked up the champagne bottle and laughed, hard, ignoring the hand that reached for me.

"And another enemy strikes again. Don't expect me to feel bad for you, Dorian. It's what you deserve."

I exited the office and closed the door behind me, leaving him to choke on his own blood.

Downstairs, I stopped at my old desk and called in a favor to Jane.

"Mr. Darkwater is... indisposed. He doesn't wish to be disturbed."

"Okay." Still unable to make eye contact, she nodded.

"Also, ring security. I need footage of the delivery man that dropped off the package for Mr. Darkwater. I want to see his face. When you have it send it to me--and then destroy it. Understood?"

"Yes. But Miss Thorne, I--"

"That's all for now."

I left the gallery, with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step.

"He's planning something terrible, I know it. Everyone at the lake will be in danger."

After skinny-dipping with mermaids and out-swimming pirates, now we basked in the waters beneath a roaring cascade. Moonlight struck the blue surface, silvering warm, gentle waves that pushed us back and forth.

Dorian swam closer. "Did he say why?"

"He's using the party as an excuse to punish me for getting in his way. I don't even want to think about what could happen."

"So we cancel the party--say the lake is contaminated. Perhaps your stepfather can pull a few strings."

"Ask Mr. Governor for help?" I snorted. "I'm not really in a position to call in favors. No, I'll have to solve this one on my own."

"You're never on your own." Dorian pulled me close. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"What I need is you and Opal. We have to protect those people--some of them are my friends, Dorian. I can't lose anyone else."

"Still thinking about Vanida?"

I sighed. "Always."

"Perhaps I can offer a distraction."

Distract me he did...

Later, when we had finally left the painting and were drying ourselves in my apartment, I checked my phone to find an email from Jane.

"Finally. This must be the security footage from the gallery," I said, opening the video.

Gripping the ends of the towel hung around his neck, Dorian took a closer look. "Who would chance poisoning a demon?"

"Someone with a death wish..." I watched the figure stride through the gallery's sliding double doors, freezing the image when I caught a glimpse of his face. "Oh, Danny, what the hell were you thinking?"

The lake sparkled in the moonlight, the moon's rays silver rays bouncing off the waves in mysterious invitation.

"A yacht?" My steps slowed as I neared the water's edge. A pontoon sailed back and forth, delivering groups of us from the beach to the yacht. "No one said anything about a yacht."

"Change of plans!" Smiling extra wide, Mallory hooked her arm through mine, walking me along the shoreline. "C'mon, you'll love it!"

Pearl Lake was stunning at night. The dark, placid waters shined like crystals under the moonlight. Behind us, the Gentle Forest loomed, the dark canopies shedding their leaves for winter. This could very well be the last time we enjoyed the lake before the frost took over.

"So, Mel, from a bonfire to a boat." I gave a nervous laugh. "That's a pretty big change."

"Yeah, it's a little weird, I know." Mallory shrugged. "Some rich gallery owner approached me a couple days ago--offered to let us party in style. How could I say no?"

"Gallery owner?" I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Yeah. Called himself Darkwater." Puzzled, Mallory glanced back and forth between Dorian and me. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend? Come to think of it, he looks exactly like the gallery owner. Are you, like, twins or something?"

Dorian and I shared an apprehensive glance as  I fumbled for the right words. "Uh, this is Dorian. He's my... We're... I'm his..."

"Friend." Dorian extended his hand with a charming smile that made the unshake-able Mallory blush. "And yes, we are twins. I'm the good one."

"I bet you are." Mallory flashed me a knowing wink as she looped her arm through his. "Tell me more..."

"Can you believe he named the yacht after himself? I mean, Darkwater? Really? Who even does that?" I scoffed, taking a swig of the liquor in my red plastic cup.

Dorian shrugged. "Lots of people. Quite common actually."

"Who's side are you on anyway?"

Side-by-side at the yacht's rail, we gazed at the spectacular view of the moonlit waters. Pop music blasted across the lake, rivaled by shouts and laughter. Everyone else was having fun but I couldn't imagine letting loose while knowing Dark Dorian had planned something rotten just for me. If he really wanted to teach me a lesson, I knew he wouldn't fail.

"Ran into Vanida on the way in," I said, swirling the liquid in my cup. "She saw me walking with Mallory--I think she took it the wrong way. Van didn't even say a word. Just... walked right past me." Like I was nothing.

"Can you blame her?"

"No. But going from talking everyday to never talking at all--it really sucks. I just wish she understood what it is I'm trying to do."

"You're trying to protect her. But imagine if the roles were reversed. How would you feel?"

Hurt. Lonely. Confused... Useless. I sighed. "She'll never forgive me."

"She loves you." Dorian tapped my cup with his. "Give her time."

"Have I missed the fireworks?" As if appearing from thin air, Opal squeezed between us, a sucker in the corner of her mouth.

Dorian lifted his brows at the hunter. "They let you on the boat dressed like Lara Croft with two swords strapped to your back?"

"Darling, have you seen this face and figure? I can get away with anything--not that I have to explain to the likes of you." She bared her teeth at Dorian.

He rolled his eyes. "It's like the Caribbean all over again. Wonderful."

"Not yet, but it can be..." Opal reached for a sword...

"Really, guys? C'mon." I shook my head at the two of them. "I didn't ask you here to fight each other. We have bigger problems, like...Jane?"

"Jane?" They replied, mutually confused.

I pointed over Opal's shoulder. Further down the deck, Dark Dorian's intern approached the railing.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. Worlds apart, Jane and I didn't run the same crowds. "What's she doing here?"

Opal smirked. "She's pretty. I don't like her."

"She's Dark Dorian's intern--she's infatuated with him... She'd do anything for him."

Dorian pointed with his chin. "Like drop a painting overboard?"

Indeed, Jane had reached in her backpack, withdrawn a painting, and tossed it over the rail into the water.

"This must be part of his plan. Great." I exhaled. "Dorian, Jane can't know there's two of you. It would only complicate things. You and Opal lay low for a minute--and try not to kill each other." I jogged across the deck, causing the other girl to jump when I called her name.

"Miss Thorne!" She chuckled, hand on her heart in surprise. "You scared me!"

"You're scaring me. What are you doing here, Jane?"

"Oh, Mr. Darkwater sent me. He wanted me to do him a little favor."

"He asked you to throw a painting in the water, didn't he?"

"Strange isn't it?" She shrugged and smiled, not the least bit concerned at the eccentricity of such a request. "That's our boss."

Heart hammering, I approached the rail, peering over the side. The waters had begun to churn...

"Jane..." I swallowed. "What was the name of that painting?"

"Um, I think it was call-l-l-l-led... The Kraken? Why?"

"That's why!"

Eyes wide, Jane and I watched as several long, black tentacles broke through the water's surface and latched to the railing, dripping ink-like fluid on the deck.

The kraken.

Jane screamed.

I swallowed, hard. "Barnacles."

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