Chapter 24
CALISTA
For a man who got caught red-handed, Christopher has no problem filling the silence.
“Darling.” His eyes skate across my face, lingering on the bright colour of my lipstick, “You never fail to ruin my evening.”
“I aim to please.”
“One of these days, I would really love to be disappointed.”
Marlin cocks his head to the side, studying our interaction with something close to amusement. It’s always hard to tell with him, given his limited emotional capacity, but I suppose that’s what happens when a man is stiffer than the expensive suits he loves to wear.
“Did you bring it?”
I pass the jar over and Marlin wastes no time dropping the eyeball inside. It bounces and bobs around the transparent liquid, the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the air.
“I thought your mother’s stint selling human organs was finished.”
“It is.” He sighs, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his hands clean, “This is simply a welcome home present. You would not believe the number of hours she’s spent moaning over the loss of Anton’s irises.”
I snicker, watching the fleshy orb swim around the jar some more.
“And to think, your little plaything is the one to blame."
Marlin makes a noncommittal sound, his attention already back on the thief who’s rooting around his cargo pants for a weapon.
“Before you make a fool of yourself yet again this evening, I suggest you keep the safety locked on that trigger.”
Christopher’s dark brows pinch together, the gun already halfway in his hands.
“And if I’m not good at following orders?”
“Then Finley will meet his untimely end.” Marlin sighs as if the thought is too much to bear, “And given I am on a tight schedule, I’m afraid that end will be now.”
A heartbeat of silence goes by.
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Marlin echoes the word, his brow lifting slightly, “Is that supposed to be an answer?”
“Are you supposed to be this much of a dick?”
“If you are asking to compare sizes, I am more than happy to take mine out.”
Christopher glares back at him, his paper thin t-shirt and shaggy hair serving as the stark opposition to Marlin’s glossy surface. The two men face off like a couple of dogs at the shelter, the rescue mutt going up against the groomed poodle who’s already wearing a collar.
Sophisticated and polished versus rough and scrappy.
“Just tell me what I have to do to get Finley out.”
I can hear the wheels of Marlin’s big brain churning, his thoughtful stare a little bit more intrigued now that his opponent has shown some resistance.
Poor thing has no idea for what he’s in for.
“I’ve always considered myself to be a man of fair favour. Someone who believes in poetic justice. An eye for an eye, so to speak.”
Marlin pauses to adjust his cuff link, his monologue falling second only to his appearance, “To rescue your crew member, you will do exactly what you came here to do. Break into the Seaborn Mansion and collect the prize waiting beneath my mother’s aquarium.”
Christopher glances at me, the silent question echoing loud and clear.
This is a trap, isn’t it?
I stare back at him, feeling my lips pull into a smirk.
You’re already fallen this far, what’s a little farther?
Something dangerously close to a smile streaks across his face.
“Sounds reasonable enough.”
“In that case, we can begin.” Pulling a sleek phone case out of his pocket, Marlin hits a few buttons and a beep sounds through the air, “Your fifteen minutes starts now.”
“Fifteen minutes? I didn’t agree to a time limit.”
“It would seem you’ve encountered your first challenge then.”
“What the hell-
“I would start climbing if I were you.” Violet eyes dance towards the forgotten harnesses, “Finley’s time is running out.”
Letting out a stream of curses, Christopher goes running for the closest column.
We watch him approach the marble base as if it were a springboard, the rebound of his momentum taking him nearly halfway up the column. Skittering feet and a tremendous catch leaves him perched between the two columns, his legs split neatly down the middle.
After a moment of hesitation, he starts inching his way up, steadily conquering one centimeter at a time.
“His flexibility is quite remarkable.”
Marlin makes the comment as one would order a breakfast sandwich, his tone laced with a faint amount of interest.
“Ex-gymnast.”
“With seven years of parkour training.”
Catching my sideways glance, he offers me a shrug, “I didn’t discover that fact until after I delivered my report. His life on the street is virtually undocumented except for the string of robberies him and his crew left in their wake.”
“Your reports are supposed to be complete upon submission.”
“I did not think his extracurricular activities would be of interest to you.” His eyes slither in my direction, “Clearly an oversight on my part. I did not realize your relationship with Deville was quite so… intimate.”
I tsk, “Are you making assumptions, Marlin? I would have thought you, of all people, would know how the saying goes.”
“A hazardous guess based on certain similarities between the two of you.”
I can feel the weight of his stare on the side of my face.
“And I do not believe the term darling has flowed quite so freely from a man’s mouth.”
An amused smile paints my lips, “Do not set your expectations quite so high, dear friend. He calls everyone darling.”
There’s a beat of silence as we watch Christopher reach up and grab the edge of the blood-soaked balcony. Gripping the railing steadily, he carefully lifts one leg and swings himself over the top.
“Not like that, he doesn’t.”
Marlin states it plainly, watching Christopher cast a victorious glance my way. With both feet on solid ground, he quickly disappears through the reflective panes of the sliding doors.
And so the fun begins.
We start walking towards the side entrance, the simple wooden door painted to match the rest of the marble exterior. It offers an easy access to the inside, and better yet, the perfect nook to set up temporary security monitors.
“There he is.”
Settling himself down at the desk, Marlin pulls up rows of video footage. Each one shows a clip of Christopher running through different rooms, his progress tracked and recorded thanks to the immense number of cameras we installed earlier today.
Unlike most security footage, ours is focused on the horrors lingering inside the Seaborn Mansion rather than out. Hidden within the depths of the beautiful home, our vigilance is easily masked by the monsters lurking in the shadows.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have plans tonight.”
Settling myself down beside Marlin, I kick up my heels and get ready for the show.
“Friday nights and romance tend to go hand in hand.”
“My little saint has been telling me the same thing.” Eyeing the dirty soles of my shoes, he shifts his chair to the side, “Apparently I have not been as romantic as of late.”
“You are gearing up to graduate.”
“School has never been a challenge for me and now that things have settled down there is no reason for me not to transition some of my focus to a new... relationship.”
He pauses, weighing the word carefully before nodding, “I took it upon myself to do some research and found various solutions.”
Oh, dear.
“The first stage was quite successful. She finished the scavenger hunt in less than two hours and not one of my puzzles caused her to stumble or fail.”
Pride bleeds through his voice, a silent champion of the woman he loves ringing through each word. It is a side to him I have never seen before, the placement of someone else on his pedestal an act to be celebrated rather than condemned.
Imagine finding a man who lifts a woman up instead of knocking her to the ground.
Had I not seen the evidence for myself, I would have crossed the silly notion off as fiction.
“Very interactive of you.”
“I thought so as well.”
A couple of clicks on the keyboard and suddenly we’re at the main event.
Larger than any aquarium known to man, the oversized fishbowl stands over two stories tall. Built with impenetrable glass and sustained through constant circulation, the outlandish water exhibit acts as a host to all those who wander too close to the Sea Witch’s lair.
Dark forms twist and twirl through the water, Ursela’s infamous eels breaking through the surface with every turn.
Massive sewer pipes hang suspended from the ceiling and run parallel to the grated bridges along the ground, offering limited mobility and even more restrictive access to the chamber located beneath the deadly creatures.
A blurry figure moves swiftly through the pixelated frames, Christopher’s steady pace coming to a stuttering stop when he sees what lies ahead.
“My little saint was just about to receive her prize when he showed up.” Marlin lets out a sigh, “Terrible timing on his part.”
“She even got a prize? How noble of you.”
“They do say nothing tastes sweeter than victory.”
Tilting my head, I regard my old acquaintance silently. All jawline and flawless angles, his arrogant smile is the one you picture when you need a quick rush of pleasure. Throw in an impeccable suit and suddenly the villain bears a dangerous resemblance to a prince.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for the pale hair I would have fucked him ages ago.
“What was Melody’s prize?”
“For the scavenger hunt?”
At my nod, Marlin gives me a bemused expression.
“Me, of course.”
Of course.
Snickering to myself, I don’t have to ask to know what state he left her in.
“Nothing more a girl could ask for.”
“Precisely.”
He smiles, a genuine smile that softens the wicked edges of his features.
“Did you see that?”
Marlin suddenly leans forward, drawing my attention back to the monitor. He freezes the frame and quickly rewinds it.
I watch Christopher retrace his steps and drop onto a sewer pipe. He shimmies along and does the same thing for the next one.
“He went around.”
“What?”
“Those pipes are blocking our view, but there’s a grated bridge that runs behind there.” Tapping the screen, Marlin traces a different path, “It leads straight to the aquarium.”
I tilt my head, studying the playback of the recording.
Nothing about Christopher’s movements scream hesitant or nervous as he travels from vessel to vessel. He presses onward, bypassing each new physical obstacle without any sign of constraint or exhaustion.
“Maybe he didn’t see it.”
“Or he saw it and chose to go another way. Why?”
Tilting my head, I watch the playback again. The same sequence of events repeats itself, the same look of determination etched across Christopher’s face.
“He must have thought it was a trap.” I muse the thought out loud, “Assumed if you were going to rig a path, it would be the easiest one.”
Marlin nods slowly, his eyes glued to the thief running across the screen.
“A viable option, for certain.”
“But?”
I prod him, knowing the look on Marlin’s face has nothing to do with a simple misassumption.
“But a thief as experienced as this one would know that getting in is never the difficult part.” Anticipation seeps through his expression, widening the curve of his smile, “It’s figuring out how to get out.”
The recording merges with the live stream, displaying the final stage of Christopher’s test.
“Did you say the prize was waiting beneath your mother’s aquarium?”
Humour fills my voice as I watch Christopher take a step towards the glass, his panic clear even from our grainy viewpoint.
“Did I say beneath? Must have been a slip of the tongue.”
Laughter rips from my chest, the cleverness of the situation far too delightful for anything else.
Marlin listens to my cackle with a smile, his own enjoyment increasing with every decimal that drops from the oxygen tank straped to Finley’s chest.
Because sitting beneath gallons of water and a mass of water serpent lies Christopher’s prize.
A man chained to a metal folding chair.
At the bottom of the Sea Witch’s aquarium.
Seven minutes. Thirteen seconds.