Chapter Eleven
Himora Clarke
“Himora Clarke,” I repeated. “My name is Himora Clarke, and I have a scheduled meeting with Dr. Marvin Holmes.”
The visitor check-in room was quiet and dark.
Just a few people sitting behind a glass barrier on their computers while guards stood by the door waiting.
I stood with my arms by my side, black turtleneck shirt with black slacks and matching flats.
My face, stoic, unmoving as I tried to remain neutral without giving it away that what we’re about to do is completely illegal especially for my company.
The Mortal Affairs Department.
“Ma’am, he’s not taking any visitors nor is he scheduled for one,” the woman said as she searched through the computer.
“Please check again,” I said, reiterating the line I was told to say. I glanced at the clock on the wall above the glass barrier then looked back at the woman who continued to shake her head.
“I’m sorry, I’m not seeing a…”
“Himora Clarke. That’s Him, spelled as the pronoun, and ora. That’s O.R.A, and Clarke with an E at the end. Do I need to speak with someone who is above you? I am with the Mortal Affairs Department. Do I need to spell that as well?”
“No…I’m capable of searching and spelling, thank you,” the woman muttered with a roll of her eyes.
She dug her face back into the computer and sighed.
I ran my tongue across the sharp pinch of my fangs that sat behind my main teeth.
I could feel the guards at the door become tense as they shifted their stance and glanced at one another before looking at me.
There were only two other people in the room.
An older woman who sat limp in the chair staring at a picture of her son who I could only assume is a felon above and below, and a young woman with wild curly hair that fell into clusters against her face as she held a baby close to her chest. When I saw her tuck her hair behind her ears out the corner of my eye, I stepped closer to the window.
“Ma’am, I don’t see where–––”
“May I speak to someone higher up? I believe Dr. Holmes and I requested this be handled privately given the nature of his crime and heightened attention on this case. I doubt you know about our scheduled interview, but someone here approved of it and he’s expecting me–––”
“I don’t see–––”
“AHHHH!”
The sudden scream came from the woman with the curly hair standing up from her chair with blood all over her chest. The baby was suddenly crying with the arms wiggling from the blanket as she panicked.
“MY BABY! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!” She cried. “PLEASE! I THINK SOMETHING IS WRONG!”
I turned back around as the woman stood up from her chair.
“Call your manager, now!” I directed. The woman couldn’t take her eyes off of the mother who suddenly dropped to the floor and began to act out.
I would have to tell Vanessa Dubois when this is over that she might have been a little too dramatic.
Nobody with common sense would believe she’s having any type of attack.
I turned back to the glass window with a whip of my orange bob facing forward.
“Your manager, now.”
“Right!” She panicked. “Security! Help her!”
I waited, blinking rapidly behind my frames until I watched the door swing open from behind the glass. A dark-skinned man with a thick mustache, heavy eyes, and a fresh black suit burst into the office and looked around, confused.
“Somebody calm that damn woman down! Take her outside!” He demanded while the woman quickly introduced my issue to the boss.
“She claims she has an interview with Dr. Holmes,” she muttered under her breath. “I told her we were told he’s not talking to anyone, and I don’t think he’s even allowed–––”
“Ms. Clarke, yes?” The man asked. “My name is Kenneth Park, we’ve been expecting you.”
I looked at the woman who kept her head lowered but her eyes gave it away. She was indeed shocked.
“Let her in!” Mr. Park yelled out. “And somebody shut that damn baby up! Take her out of here!”
Vanessa was still screaming when they escorted her out to get help while I stood in front of the guarded door. The two guards looked hesitantly at my stature.
“This is a dangerous man, ma’am. You being a fae is not–––”
“I will be fine,” I stated. “Please allow me to do my job.”
“Open the damn door and come on!” Mr. Park yelled, annoyed. “Get her checked in and make it quick! Somebody find out what the hell is wrong with that woman in the lobby!”
As soon as I was let inside, the decor changed from a dull waiting room to cement walls and long hallways of nothingness.
The two guards walked slowly in front of me and one behind, sandwiching me in between like two towers.
I kept my shoulders square and my face flat, understanding they are just doing their jobs but when they turned the hall, Mr. Park stood there adjusting the cuffs on his sleeve when he looked up.
“I’ll take it from here. Thank you,” he said with a firm nod.
The two guards looked at one another before returning back without another word, but I know their suspicion was raised.
I walked quietly beside Mr. Park, not saying a word as we continued down through another door that required his card key.
“I told you this shit would be easy,” he whispered.
“Please do not talk,” I muttered. “There are cameras–––”
“Mannn fuck them cameras,” he let out as he tapped his card key again to open another set of doors.
After walking down several steps, going lower and lower into the building, I could see Mr. Park adjusting the gun on his belt, something that was a rare sight in the Underground.
“What are you doing after this, Ms. Clarke?” He asked with a sly grin.
The thick mustache was almost distracting, but it wasn’t hard to see Trevor Coleman in those lazy heavy eyes. “You got a hot date tonight?”
“I will be working. Same as you, I’m sure.”
“You got any kids?”
“One.”
“You want any more?”
“Is that appropriate to ask, Mr. Park?” I asked.
“I’m just saying, I’ll shoot it up every time.”
I didn’t say anything as we came closer to the final door. The air changed, even the energy became tense because now there was no turning back and if we all got caught, this was it for us.
“If anything, call out for me and I’ma set it off.” He warned under his breath. “Aight?”
I gave a short curt nod as the door opened with the final tap of the card key. That was the very last thing we needed. If they thought Dr. Holmes was the most dangerous mythic in the Underground, they have yet to meet his only male heir.
We stepped into another lobby that was heavily guarded.
Just beyond the barrier we could see the enclosed cells where they held some of the most dangerous mythical beings in the Underground.
I went through the entire process of being searched.
My fingerprint was taken, and I was made to wear some sort of vest made of a heavy material that didn’t feel as if it was made for the average body.
It was technology I’ve only heard and read about in articles where there are certain objects, and matter that can stop magic or repel it.
“You’re catching him in a good mood, Miss. Even after that trial, he’s somewhat in a good mood after being given blood. The fucking monster,” the guard spat as I followed behind him.
I managed a half smile after taking notes from my staff saying I need to learn to smile and express myself more.
We came up on a metal box, same as others when the walls suddenly transitioned to glass, revealing Dr. Marvin T.
Holmes, my old college dean sitting on the edge of his white bed looking drained, and old.
His yellow face flushed and dragged from the weight of old age.
The white spots in his eyes looked dull and gray and the white jumpsuit he wore had blood splatter around the collar.
When his eyes locked with mine, I saw a flicker of recognition before he immediately masked it.
We’ve never met before let alone had a conversation, but I sensed he picked up on something familiar with me.
“Have a seat here. He won’t be allowed to cross this barrier so you’re safe but try not to provoke him,” the guard said. “I’ll be standing outside. You have 20 minutes.”
I sat down, posture upright with a single blink as he remained on the bed. Dr. Holmes simply stared at me before smiling as he slowly got up.
“I told them I don’t want any visitors. This incompetent fucking place…Who are you?” He asked.
“My name is Himora Clarke. I am with the Mortal Affairs Department.”
He pulled his chair back and sat down before me, taking a moment to get comfortable until he silently winced in pain.
“They keep these lights bright in here because they know I hate it,” he said as he looked around. “Does it bother you?”
“No.”
“It will…eventually,” he said. Dr. Holmes leaned against the table with his hands coming together to stare at me.
“As you age…going years and years…centuries even, should you decide to slow your age down, and you almost always will… Little things like lights,” looking up as his eyes flickered against the brightness.
“Heat, sun, certain oils and lotions. The smells and taste of food, if you still eat human food, will begin to fade. The less you feed, the quicker you age…the more you drink…the more the youth stays with you…it’s really a remarkable disease…
” A slow stretch of his lips began to part as I saw the blood tinted saliva glossing in the cracks of his teeth.
Most likely, his own blood if they were feeding him which I doubt.