4. Chapter Four
Chapter 4
“Y ou got this, Sinha,” Rieka whispered to herself.
She was early to the meeting. The not-so-dulcet tones of heavy Manhattan traffic echoed incessantly around her as she stared at the skyscraper, trying to muster the courage to walk through the impressive glass doors. Known as the Arx, the building was an architectural marvel—a modern adaptation of the ancient citadels they had named it after. There was a reason the Romans had adopted the Atlantean word for fortress. Fidgeting, she glanced at her well-worn black leather boots. Her morning ten-mile run hadn’t helped her nervousness. Nor had the three black coffees she drank afterward.
Never interact with the aristos of the Houses.
Lilian had drilled the words into her from as early as Rieka could remember. And here she was, about to break one of the cardinal rules. The Atlanteans were no different to their human counterparts, except for their extended lifespans, heightened senses, and an inherent godlike complex that was diffused through their entire species.
She knew the stories of the Houses, tales about their ruthlessness and thirst for knowledge and power. Over the last eleven thousand years, the four surviving Atlantean Houses had created a niche market for themselves. Once worshipped as gods, they had simply traded temples and sacrifices for modern technology. A world, even as a hybrid, Rieka would never be part of.
She looked down at her phone; the cryptic message Chay had sent her yesterday made little sense. It was a summons, one that she wanted to ignore but couldn’t.
10 a.m. Delacroix Arx.
And here she was, in a suit. Who was she trying to impress? She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn the charcoal monstrosity. The jacket was tight across her back, the coarse material biting into the soft flesh of her arms, though not quite warm enough to keep out the slight chill. If she stretched, she was in danger of splitting her jacket in half. The only one she owned and at least ten years out of fashion. The green faux leather handbag hung loosely by her side. She had bought the bag because it matched the streaks in her hair. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Heat flushed through her as she uncurled her hands. Shoulders pushed back, she walked into the building. The glass doors silently closed behind her. The floor was eerily quiet as she walked through. The black-clad guards stood beneath priceless art pieces.
A giant Atlantean stepped in front of her. At five feet ten inches, Rieka was tall, but he towered over her.
“I have an appointment,” Rieka stated as she looked up at the behemoth. She clenched her fists before she forced herself to relax again. The familiar weight of her pendant under her clothes was comforting as she pressed her hands to her side, the strap of her handbag digging into her left shoulder.
The Atlantean wore the matte-black uniform of the Houses’ security force. It seemed to swallow the surrounding light. The silver pin on his collar was the only embellishment he displayed. Tinted sunglasses hid his eyes. Close-cropped dark auburn hair glittered in the light. The amber highlights reminded her of a dancing fire. His sun-kissed golden skin told her he spent countless hours outside.
“Do you have any weapons?” the Atlantean asked her.
Because she would be that stupid. “Just my charm.”
“Miss Sinha.” His voice was lyrical, the accent American, but there was a slight lilt to his tone. He didn’t sound amused.
“It’s Dr. Sinha.” Rieka turned her attention to the far end, toward the concierge. “I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”
The Atlantean looked at her for a second longer before he moved out of her way. As she walked closer to the concierge, she realized the large desk was actually a colossal shell, almost translucent. It wasn’t until she was next to it that the pale threads of color became apparent. Thousands of tones twirled along the shell, turning it into a kaleidoscope.
“Welcome, Dr. Sinha. I’m Sypha.”
There was a hint of amusement in the tone. The Atlantean’s strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with large curls hanging artfully down to their shoulders, and barely there but immaculate makeup highlighted perfect features and dual-colored eyes. The Atlantean was devastatingly beautiful. Rieka was not surprised. Atlanteans were rumored to have bred entire lineages for beauty or war. And often for both.
“Dante Delacroix is expecting you.”
Rieka nodded; her heart raced as Sypha’s words registered. She was not meeting a faceless bureaucrat.
“Kade will escort you up to his office.” Sypha leaned over and held out a metal card. Perfect pink talons flashed in the bright light, a stark contrast to the pure-white attire they wore. “If you need anything, let me know. Enjoy your visit.” Sypha sat back down and continued to work. “Elevator is to the left.”
The elevator door opened as she approached, while Kade, the behemoth from the entrance, stood unmoving beside it before following her in. Rieka didn’t think Kade was the type for small talk, and she was right. The floor numbers rushed by, interspersed with the soft ringing of elevator music. Even the wealthy weren’t spared that atrocity. Rieka looked at her reflection. She appeared put together, professional. Had even attempted to corral her unruly curls into order, the thick strands confined to a neat braid. She sneaked a glance at Kade. He remained unmoving and stared straight ahead.
“We are here.”
The elevator door opened. White light blinded Rieka as it reflected off the marble walls, and she shielded her eyes as she entered the office. She held onto her handbag as she tried to blink away the tiny black specks. Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded her, giving her an uninterrupted view of the city. There was something almost otherworldly as the wintery midmorning sun cast the skyscrapers in a soft unnatural glow. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she adjusted to the light.
“Dr. Sinha.”