Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
No shame, Zari reminded herself as she dragged her body out of bed.
Crying was as natural as any other bodily function, and as her therapist liked to say, she could simply think of it as peeing out her sadness. The analogy still grossed Zari out to this day, but since it did make sense...
Nothing to be guilty about, she thought determinedly to herself as she stepped into the shower. Optical peeing was therapy, so nowadays she did it whenever the urge struck, which - more often than not - was when she was alone at night, and the pain of her Master's absence got to be a little too much.
After changing into her self-imposed work uniform (turtleneck in some neutral shade, jeans, boots, and a trench coat with more pockets than anyone could ever need), she went about locking up and was out of her apartment building a few minutes past seven.
With time to spare, she got herself a bagel and coffee but still made it to the office one full hour ahead of the daily roll call.
#workaholic mode on, Zari thought, never mind if she hadn't really ever switched off.
Like most other buildings in Hudson Yards, AGNEX's New York office was housed in a stately old stone building and - according to Google Maps - the listed address of an investment firm. It was why, when asked by strangers about her work, Zari would always offhandedly say she worked in "finance".
Middlemarch, AGNEX's day shift sentinel, glanced up at hearing the revolving doors start to spin and was unsurprised when he saw Zari Baltimore enter the vestibule. Petite and coltishly slim, the girl was in her early twenties, with ash blonde hair she always had twisted up in a fuss-free bun and smoky gray innocent-looking eyes that belied the trapper's murderously good skills with a blade.
"Sup, Mid." Zari absently gave her arms a brisk rub as she spoke, thinking that the building's antechamber felt more somber and colder than usual. Even with its vintage Art Deco chandelier, stained-glass cathedral windows, and a mosaic installation depicting the Garden of Eden spanning an entire wall, its beauty struck her as soulless and empty, like a fancy mausoleum that had somehow found its way into the heart of Manhattan.
"You need a life, kid." The hell was she doing, coming to work early when she wasn't ever gonna get paid for the extra hours?
Zari simply wrinkled her nose in response. "I don't like sleeping in." Not anymore, at least.
"The way you look," Middlemarch remarked, seeing the half-moon shadows under the girl's eyes, "doesn't seem like you sleep at all." When the trapper only shrugged, he knew he had guessed right, and sympathy momentarily softened the older man's weathered features. "One of those nights again?"
"It's always one of those nights." A lopsided smile curved over the girl's lips, but the trace of pain in her eyes didn't go away. "Anyway, I gotta head up. Micah wants to see me. I think I might be in trouble again."
Middlemarch only grunted, thinking that the trapper was a little too optimistic for her own good.
Might be in trouble?
The girl's missing-lover-slash-vampire-Master was one of the most powerful half-demons in living history, and here she was, working for an agency best known for exterminating demons.
Being a quarter vampire himself, Middlemarch was sufficiently familiar with the role pets played in vampire society. It was considered a great honor for a human girl to be handpicked as pet, and there were even "Legacy" families whose greatest pride was to have their womenfolk serve vampires generation after generation.
Here in New York, however...
Zari being a vampire's pet was bad enough. Most thought this no different from being a glorified slave, but that the girl's Master also happened to be one of the world's most notorious half-demons...
Something's gonna give, Middlemarch thought as he watched Zari walk away. It was just a matter of time, with the whole fucking thing like a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later, there'd be a day of reckoning, and once that happened...
Either Zari Baltimore had the smallest brain in the planet...or the biggest set of balls, for thinking she could single-handedly take on all of the city's demon-hating bigots.
UNAWARE OF BEING THE subject of Middlemarch's worries, Zari was busy warding off the onslaught of another headache as she headed for the French doors that opened directly to the stairwell. Here, the cathedral windows were tall, narrow and plain, its transparent panes allowing sunlight to filter through. But even with golden rays cascading down medieval tapestries and carpeted steps, its warmth just wasn't enough to dispel the cloud of melancholy that had chilled shivers running down her spine.
A mausoleum, Zari found herself thinking again. Once a mausoleum, always a mausoleum, and no amount of makeovers would change this.
It was a long and rather tedious climb all the way to the top, and Zari felt particularly proud to find herself still breathing normally by the time she finally made it to the seventh floor.