“The Girl from Ipanema” played on the vibes found its way out of the hidden speakers and curled around the edges of the porcelain panels that lined the elevator. DeLeon thought it clever and kitschy, which it was at first. Having ridden in the elevator hundreds of times, Jayne found it to be annoying. The harsh white walls accentuated the greenish cast of Jayne’s complexion, something which would never be noticed when she was wearing make-up. She looked tired. The recent run-ins with Reese and then her brother had left her feeling drained. She looked beyond the upcoming rejuvenation ritual and toward a nice hot bath. DeLeon would turn back his clock but hers had been permanently reset years ago thanks to Trevor. Soon she would be back in DeLeon’s good graces and she could put this whole mess behind her.

“Nice music,” Wit said sarcastically.

“Try hearing it a thousand times.”

“Kinda sterile feeling in here.”

“The porcelain makes it easier to clean up the occasional splatter.”

“Splatter?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Wit gulped and tried not to picture what splatter they might be talking about. After a moment of awkward silence Jayne spoke.

“I was wondering, when you approached me in the bar that night, were you attracted by me or the food? Be honest.”

“If I’m being totally honest . . . the food.” Jayne slumped, deflated. Wit quickly continued. “But when you came out of the restroom and did that hair flip thing, I swear time slowed to a standstill. That was amazing.”

Jayne smiled girlishly. “Yeah, it did. That’s kind of my signature move. It doesn’t hurt that I actually can slow time. It heightens the effect.”

“I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

“Not even a slim one.” Jayne smiled, satisfied. Wit noticed just how pretty evil could be.

Wit shifted under the weight of the armor and repositioned it on his shoulder. “So, where are we headed?”

“An area we call the grotto. It’s really a subterranean cave but DeLeon thinks that calling it a grotto sounds better. The lab and your, let’s call them, ‘accommodations’ are there.”

The elevator slowed to a stop. Wit expected to be met with the smell of the cool, damp earth. Instead, the doors opened to a corridor that mimicked the interior of the elevator complete with porcelain panels and indirect lighting. The air was still, dry and perfumed with the distinct smell of coffee and baked goods. Wit noticed that the floor was soft and springy. It was the first time he had walked on carpet since entering the mansion. The sounds of busy work grew louder and the intensity of kitchen aromas grew stronger as they approached the end of the hallway. They turned the corner to be greeted by an apron clad DeLeon setting out espresso cups and a plate of cookies.

“Right on schedule, Take a seat.” DeLeon said as he pulled a chair from beneath an antique café table. Jayne sat as DeLeon replaced the chair beneath her. He took the armor from Wit and the emblem from Jayne and set them aside.

“They’re fresh from the oven. Enjoy.” He gestured at Wit to take a seat as he pulled out a chair for himself.

“Do I taste a hint of almond?” Jayne asked with a mouth half full of cookie. ”Quite tasty.”

DeLeon took a bite of cookie. “I was thinking about the trip back which made me think of home, then my mother, then her cooking. Before I knew it I was baking cookies.”

DeLeon swallowed and followed his cookie with a sip of espresso.

“Funny how one rarely associates fresh-baked cookies with murderous conquistadors.” Wit stated, rather bluntly, as he took a cookie for himself. He chewed, swallowed and reached for another. “Although I must admit they are quite good.”

“Would you prefer us murderous conquistadors to serve run-of-the-mill store-bought cookies?”

“Actually, I like the cookies. It’s the murder I could do without.” Wit helped himself to yet a third cookie.

“Listen to the pot calling the kettle black! This from a breed that eats people.”

“We feed on people. We don’t eat them!” Wit snapped.

DeLeon burst into laughter and slapped Wit on the shoulder.

“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. I’m just poking a bit of fun. Lighten up!”

DeLeon sipped from his cup and straightened his apron.

“Now, on to the matter at hand. Due to unforeseen circumstances we are short one body for the rejuvenation ritual,” Deleon glared at Jayne. “So you, Daniel, will be playing the part of Joseph. It isn’t difficult. Just follow our instructions and you will do fine. First, Jayne will show you to a room where you can clean up and catch your breath. We will come for you when we need you.”

DeLeon leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“It is a pity about Joseph. Siblings can be so hard on one another. Add the vampire versus assassin thing into the mix and it just gets ugly.”

“Assassin. I never thought I’d be pursued by an assassin. It sure sounds a lot cooler than it actually is.” Wit took a fourth cookie.

“How so?” Jayne asked, a bit offended.

“Well, in the movies when a guy is being hunted, he has a few narrow escapes, travels to exotic locations, there are cool cars in high speed chases, and it all ends with a memorable catch phrase. For me, I’ve driven across the country in a cramped car, befriended a homosexual bodybuilder, had a bowl of really good oatmeal, and had my ass handed to me twice.”

DeLeon leaned forward, his ego visibly bruised. “What about the whole meeting a time-traveling rock star, seeing his magical, mystical collection of animals and antiquities and eating a half-dozen of his freshly baked almond cookies? Those little things don’t rate?”

“Four.”

“What?”

“I’ve only eaten four cookies, not six.”

DeLeon turned to Jayne, agitated. “Get him out of here,” he muttered. “And clean this place up before you go.”

Jayne reached for the plate of cookies but had her hand blocked by DeLeon who apparently had not had his fill. She gathered the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink.

“Ahem,” DeLeon rumbled. “Those dishes aren’t going to do themselves.”

Jayne sighed, washed then dried. Wit found the normalcy of their actions unsettling. Jayne returned to the table to collect Wit. He grabbed a couple of cookies to go. Before they reached the doorway, DeLeon called Jayne back to table side. He motioned for her to lean in closer.

“I believe our guest knows more than we thought,” DeLeon said in hushed tones.

“How so?”

“He referred to me as a conquistador. You didn’t mention anything about my true identity, did you?”

Jayne snickered, “Your true identity. It sounds like you’re a super hero. True identity.”

DeLeon grabbed Jayne by the arm and pulled her closer. “This isn’t a laughing matter. I don’t want anything to jeopardize this ritual. Did you say anything?”

Jayne ripped her arm free and stepped back. “No! You are being paranoid!”

She stormed over to Wit and shoved him through the doorway. “Let’s go!”

“Hey! I didn’t do anything!” Wit said as he tripped forward a step and caught himself.

Jayne steered Wit down the corridor, past the elevators to a “T” intersection. They turned to the left and headed toward a floor to ceiling mirror that capped the end of the hall. Jayne glanced at herself, shook her head and sighed. She touched a couple of points on a rubberized panel inset in the porcelain next to the mirror. Slowly a bank of lights blinked on and grew in intensity just beyond what had appeared to be a mirror but was in fact an observation window to the grotto a dozen or so feet below. Iridescent blue-green moss zigzagged up slabs of glossy granite looking like a well-worn piece of ancient tapestry. Piles of rock that once lay scattered on the floor had been removed and now lined the perimeter of the cave. A series of alternating limestone and granite wedges formed a compass rose in the center of the space. A mosaic of more colorful exotic stones depicting the earth’s elements circled the larger wedge-shaped slabs. Square limestone stepping stones transitioned to an epoxied concrete floor that defined the boundaries of the area known as the lab. The familiar porcelain panel motif continued on the walls. The countertops and other work surfaces were fabricated from stainless steel. Wit recognized the towel racks and wall hooks as the same ones in his own kitchen that Reese had purchased at their local home center store. He doubted the elaborate compass rose and the installation of wall hooks had been handled by the same craftsman.

Jayne pushed another series of bumps on the access panel, causing the window to pivot open revealing a landing at the top of a set of narrow metal stairs that led to the grotto floor. The damp smell Wit had expected earlier accompanied a puff of cool air as the seal around the window popped.

“Former vampires being held against their will, first,” Jayne said as she stepped aside to allow Wit access to the stairway.

“Oh, no. Assassins slash housekeepers first. I insist,” Wit curtseyed.

“Move it!”

Jayne grabbed Wit by his shirt and shoved him onto the landing. The clank of their footsteps echoed off the grotto walls as they descended to ground level. Jayne escorted Wit to a lab table and hopped up onto a rather functional-looking padded stool, just like the ones in any high school science department. She dragged another one close to her and patted the top of it suggesting that Wit should take a seat. He began to sit facing her but she redirected him toward the grotto.

“DeLeon found this cavern on one of his expeditions. He knew he needed a place that would allow him to zip around through time without the fear of reappearing in the middle of a building or any other object man or Mother Nature could put in his path. This pocket below earth’s surface had been around since the Big Bang and will more than likely be here until this little planet finds a way to destroy itself. He constructed that compass rose to mark a safe zone that he knows should always be free and clear when he travels back through time.”

“So this is his launching pad,” Wit confirmed.

“You could say that. Like I was saying, it should always be free and clear. That’s where we come in. I have always stayed here at the present date while Joey, now you, will take a pre-flight to make sure the area is clear in both time periods. Then, and only then, will DeLeon take his trip.”

“So he must really trust both of you with his life.”

“Not really. He still has the ability to adjust his arrival times in a way that would make it very difficult for either of us to harm him. He can adjust his travel by a few seconds or step a few feet to one side. It all boils down to either he is very smart or very paranoid. Whichever it is, it has helped to keep us alive and unscathed for centuries.”

“Joey, not so much,” Wit jabbed.

“What happened to Joey was his own doing. Do you think I wanted to kill my own brother? He lunged at me. I defended myself. You might as well blame yourself for his demise.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“He went after me because of you and your family. Family, that’s always been Joey’s Achilles’ heel. His overwhelming devotion to family trapped him in a teenage body. Now his devotion to you ended up getting him killed.”

“We would have died for him as well.”

“That could be arranged,” Jayne said as she braced her hands against the table and arched her tired back. “For now I need you alive, or undead, or whatever your current state of existence might be. Time for me to get things ready. Time for you to sit a spell.”

Jayne stepped a few feet away from the table and made a sweeping arm gesture toward a series of three rolling tambour security doors.

“Shall it be Cell Number One, Cell Number Two, or shall it be Cell Number Three?”

“Well, if it is all the same to you, Monty, I would like to take my winnings to date and just go home,” Wit answered with raised eyebrows.

“Cell Number Two it is. I believe you will find the accommodations to your liking.”

Jayne flipped a switch alongside of the bay door. The motor hummed and the metal slats rattled as the door began to rise.

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