The Watcher, page 41
part #1 of Fleur de Lis Series
A husky Guardian with black hair opened the door for us. He looked familiar. I recognized him the night we first met Fernan in the Soho club. He was the massive vampire that was working in the lobby with Dante.
“Hello Nagy,” Fernan said.
“Good evening,” he responded with a raspy voice, holding the door open for us.
Nagy wore a double-breasted, black crocodile jacket that reached his knees with a grey turtle neck, slacks, and large crocodile boots. His cologne was Patchouli scented with a hint of oranges.
“I’ve seen him before,” Christian muttered with a pondering look.
“From the Soho club that night,” I whispered, in Christian’s ear as the vampire closed the door behind us and remained outside, guarding the Museum.
Fernan smiled at us. “His name is Konrad Nagy. He was born in Budapest, five hundred years ago. He used to be a gypsy and was turned by King Durand during his travels. He is head of security for the Museum and lives on the west side of Central Park,” Fernan said.
My eyes admired The Great Hall. It was a majestic entryway. It had beige walls, three domes, eight arches, and a marble mosaic floor. Guardians were protecting all the entrances, including Mikael and Charlie. I looked up at the grand staircase that led to the second floor, but Fernan walked to the right side of the Museum. We passed Mikael, as he winked at me. I casually smiled at him.
We enter the Egyptian section of the Museum where many mummy casings were exhibited. Christian stopped every few feet reading their history.
“You will have time to visit them again after dinner,” Fernan assured Christian.
My brother hurried to catch up to us. We entered a monumental room with a tall glass rooftop that extended to one side of the room, facing Central Park. A large exhibit that can be entered was at the center; it was decorated with beautiful carvings and two columns. The Temple of Dendur is one of the most popular exhibits in the Museum, and it was breathtaking.
“Now, this is impressive,” Christian sighed.
A rectangular table was set in front of the Temple with elegant silverware and a white tablecloth. Next to our table was a small rectangular pond that was lit. Waiters dressed in tuxedos with tailcoats were ready to serve us, and Guardians stood by all the entrances. Musicians dressed in black and white had set up their instruments at the corner of the room. The violinist played a beautiful melody then the rest of the band joined in.
Sebastian entered with Frank Hayes, the police commissioner. He was a tall distinguished gentleman with a full head of grey hair. He wore a fitted brown suit with a tan shirt, green tie, and shiny brown shoes. His downward shaped, brown eyes lit up when he saw the room. Fernan greeted him first, then Zachary.
Sebastian introduced us as his cousins. Frank's voice was deep, and he had a long welcoming smile with a dimple in the middle of his square chin.
I sat across from my brother and Zachary sat at the end of the table, between us. Frank sat next to me, across Fernan. His cologne was a woodsy scent.
“Very nice,” Frank complimented, revering the silver plate setting and utensils that were antiques.
Sebastian took the seat at the end of the table next to Frank, ready to touch him and hypnotize him. A waiter brought over an expensive bottle of white wine and served us.
“We are having lobster tonight,” Fernan said.
“You impress me more and more with every meeting that we have,” Frank said to Fernan.
“Good, that is my goal,” Fernan replied.
Sebastian placed his left hand on Frank's wrist, and his eyes began to ember a bright grey, matching his shiny shirt that he wore underneath his dark grey striped suit.
“You will do exactly as we say without questioning and everything you see that is unusual is normal, including the color of our eyes,” Sebastian commanded softly, and he let go of his wrist.
Zachary removed his sunglasses, and my brother sat there, smiling mischievously. The waiter served us beet salad with arugula.
“So, how can I be of service?” Frank asked, taking a bite of the salad.
“Amazing salad,” Christian said.
I took a small fork full. The vinaigrette complimented all the flavors, including the crushed walnuts.
“Excellent,” I said.
Zachary barely touched the salad. “I don't eat beets,” he muttered, with a distasteful look.
“It is important that only the most trusted detectives and police officers work on this particular sensitive case,” Fernan insisted.
“Of course, there will be total discretion,” Frank affirmed.
“We need all subway stations, bridges, tunnels, and the docks, including the South Street Seaport to be in high alert. We are looking for any suspicious people. If you receive any cases that seem out of the ordinary, where exsanguination is the cause of death in any of the boroughs of New York—you need to call us immediately,” Sebastian said.
“Exsanguination—the body drained of blood,” Frank said.
“Yes, it's important that your detectives look out for this and broken necks—more than they have before,” Fernan said.
“If any bombs go off soon, you must send only the detectives and police officers that know us. Do not let them in any suspicious buildings and make sure they close off all entrances to bridges and tunnels if they encounter any threats. You must call us and not hesitate. We will arrive as quickly as possible and make sure all matters are taken care of,” Sebastian said.
Frank agreed with no reluctance. “It will be done.”
The waiter brought over a large tray filled with lobsters. Another waiter placed the butter sauces on the table and handed us gold cloth bibs.
My brother quickly wrapped the bib around his neck and begun cracking the lobster's shell. Zachary helped me with mine. I couldn't seem to get it right. Lobster juice and shell pieces went flying everywhere.
“It's a good thing we have on bibs,” Zachary chortled, and I giggled wiping some of the juice off my face.
“These cockroaches of the sea are delicious!” Christian burst out, dipping lobster meat into his butter sauce.
Frank chuckled, and Sebastian gave Christian a hard look.
“Really, Christian,” I sputtered, rolling my eyes, and Fernan chortled.
“It's true that's exactly what they are, except they live on the ocean floor,” Christian said.
“I just don't want to picture that while I'm eating,” I grumbled.
“Fine, I am sorry,” Christian said, then he sucked a large juicy piece of meat off one of the shells.
The thought of a lobster being a large cockroach of the sea made my stomach turn, and I couldn't finish eating the rest. I ate the bread and vegetables that were placed on the table. My brother didn't hesitate to grab my lobster left over. He ate it all, sucking the shell dry. It made me wonder if he said it on purpose just, so he can have my lobster.
“How are your children?” Fernan asked, looking at Frank.
“Kathy has received a promotion as a homicide detective,” Frank said.
“It's long overdue,” Sebastian addressed.
“I know she will be an asset to your investigation,” Frank said.
“You should invite her to dinner, next time,” Sebastian said.
“Thank you, I will, and Mark has become Captain in the Navy. They have transferred him to Hawaii,” Frank said.
“How long does he have to stay in Hawaii?” Fernan asked.
“Two years,” Frank said, retrieving his smartphone from his pocket to show us photographs.
“You must tell them congratulations from all of us. I will send them wine as gifts. Text me their addresses,” Fernan requested.
“I will,” Frank said.
Christian looked at the photograph after Fernan. “Your daughter is lovely,” he pointed out. “Is she single?”
“Christian!” I raised my voice.
“It's a fair question,” Christian responded, chewing on a piece of bread, handing me the phone.
“She's had a bit of bad luck. Divorced last year,” Frank said.
Kathy and Mark were attractive. Kathy was petite with reddish brown, straight hair, and brown eyes. She had big lips and a small nose on her heart-shaped face. She was dressed like a detective and wore her badge at the side of her pants. Mark's eyes were shaped downward like his father, but they were blue, and his lips were just as full as his sister's. He was tall, lean, and wore a military short haircut with a Navy uniform. Zachary leaned over and glanced at the photo. I handed the phone back to Frank.
“You have a lovely family,” I said.
“Thank you, I am afraid they get their looks from their late mother,” Frank said, putting his phone away.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Christian said. “Your daughter is beautiful.”
“You might be a little young for her,” Sebastian scoffed at Christian.
“Age is just a number. You know that too well, Sebastian, don't you?” Christian sneered then sipped from his wine.
Sebastian scowled at him.
Fernan quickly changed the subject. “Dessert will be served later. Let's take a tour of the Museum,” he said and rose to his feet, wiping his hands with a napkin, and removing his bib.
We slowly followed Fernan and Sebastian, who walked ahead of us with Frank. I was standing in awe of the Arms and Armor exhibit, taking in every detail. There were swords and armor from all around the world, dating hundreds of years old.
“Check out these Samurai swords,” Christian exclaimed, standing next to a glass casing of an exquisite Samurai armor and swords.
“I donated them to the Museum in 2009,” Zachary said.
“They are eight hundred years old,” I murmured.
“And their handles are made of gold,” Christian sighed. “And the armor.”
“They are just a few of my collection. The rest are in Cecile's home in Iceland,” Zachary said.
“You need to show me them next time,” I demanded.
“I know...I forgot. We were so busy,” Zachary said.
“Next time you go to Iceland, I am coming with you,” Christian added.
We entered the European Sculpture and Decorative Arts section that had a glass rooftop. The statues were stunning, made of white or black marble.
“Follow me,” Zachary said.
Frank was observing the sculptures on the other side of the room with Fernan and Sebastian. Zachary stood in front of a male statue, made of black marble that resembled King Durand standing with a sword, half naked.
“Is that...” I asked.
“King Durand,” Christian interrupted.
“Yes, done by our talented Gabriel Mabray,” Zachary boasted with a proud tone to his voice, like a father admiring his son's work.
The sculpture was dated three hundred years old and was six feet tall. Christian couldn't help himself; he touched the sculpture.
“Nice,” Christian gasped.
“Very talented,” I said, gazing at the sculpture.
Gabriel had captured every curve of his muscles, his facial expression, and the fearsome stance of the King. He called it, “Perseverance.”
We passed the Medieval Art and headed up the grand stairs to the European paintings. Zachary led us to a wide painting, encased in a gold frame with leaves carved on the edges. The painting was of a naked female coming out of a lake with the moonlight surrounding her. Her dark eyes looked familiar.
“Margaret of Brabant, the night Durand first saw her swimming in the lake. Taken from his vivid memory and given to Gabriel,” Zachary said.
“I see why it was love at first sight,” Christian teased, gawking at the painting.
Margaret was petite with a curvy figure, her torso small, and her breasts were perky with luminous creamy white skin and pink nipples. The lake was tranquil, surrounded by elegant trees. It reminded me of a dream. The name of the painting was called, “Betrayal,” and it was painted one hundred and fifty years ago.
I thought about that night and how all our lives had changed because of it. My parent's death, Hazel's, Alexander's, Varg and his family, and many others that would be missed. If I could go back into time, I would have slit her throat in her sleep and ended this horrific war.
Zachary was now staring at a painting, encased in a thick silver frame. The painting was vivid and looked like a photograph. A stunning brunette with long chocolate brown hair, wearing a green gown was posing outside a garden, surrounded by pink and red flowers. Her eyes were an amber brown. “Lost Love,” was the name of the painting. She resembled Gabriel's almond-shaped eyes and small nose.
“Who's this?” I asked.
Zachary was hesitant to answer. “Annabelle Mabray,” he uttered.
“That's what I thought,” I muttered.
“She was only seventeen when she died,” Zachary said.
I could see the sorrow in Zachary's expression. He loved her.
“Who's this hot babe?” Christian asked as he approached us.
“Zachary's girlfriend, from the past,” I said.
“Wow, you have good taste in women,” Christian blurted.
“She's deceased,” I said with a harsh tone.
“Jealous much,” Christian smirked, embarrassing me.
“Sometimes I wish I could smack my brother across the face,” I whispered low enough, so only Zachary could hear
“It was a long time ago, another era. The Great Plague in1665, known as the bubonic plague, killed her and the rest of her family, except for Gabriel. He was immune to the disease,” Zachary said.
“That's terrible,” Christian shrieked. “Sometimes I forget you have lived many lifetimes.”
“Sometimes I forget as well,” Zachary said.
“Is that why you turned Gabriel?” I asked, noticing Frank was two rooms away.
“I traveled to England as many times as I could during that year. I was going to ask Annabelle to marry me, but I was too late. There was death everywhere in London, and the smell of rotting flesh permeated inside my nose. I was praying and hoping to find Annabelle alive. When I arrived at their house, I saw a red cross painted on their door, and a watchman standing nearby. My heart sank deep, and the watchman tried to stop me from entering. I threaten to cut his head off if he interfered—and so he left,” Zachary said.
“There were quarantined?” Christian asked.
“Yes, and the living quarters had bloody sheets with bowls filled with bloody water and rags. I could smell Annabelle's death, and that's when I heard Gabriel. He had become suicidal. I stopped him from hanging himself by cutting the rope that was choking him. If I had arrived a few seconds later, he would have been dead. He hung himself on a tree that faced his family's burial ground. He had buried all five family members, including his sister Annabelle in the back yard,” Zachary said with remorse in his voice.
“I am sorry,” I said. “I didn't know it was the bubonic plague.”
“I couldn't leave Gabriel there to die in his grief, so I brought him to France with me and asked Cecile if I could turn him. She agreed, and the rest is history,” Zachary said.
“Gabriel's lucky you arrived in time,” Christian said.
“It was a devastating time for England, thousands of people died. Gabriel and I were saddened for many years, but we persevered, and he has become a great asset to all the Covenants,” Zachary said.
“We are heading this way,” Fernan interrupted, pointing down a hallway.
Zachary nodded, and we followed Fernan around a bend. Van Gogh's and Monet's artwork were displayed near each other. Christian grabbed my arm and sat down on a bench in front of the Starry Night painting, by Van Gogh. He rubbed Aaron's ring.
Zachary turned and stopped to watch us. Fernan kept walking with Sebastian and Frank.
“I see Maximo Reyes, Luke Anderson, and Clyde Ward. They are in a circular room, covered in plastic. There are no windows. It’s a different yacht. A young woman, half naked, that looks like you, Skye, is being forced to dance in front of them, while Aaron smokes a cigar,” Christian said.
Zachary moved closer and stood in front of us. “Tell us everything.”
“She's frightened, her face is bruised, and Clyde keeps on pushing her to the middle of the floor. Her blue dress is ripped, and she keeps trying to cover her breasts. Clyde is wearing a white top hat, an antique black suit with a white tie and white shoes. He's teasing her and poking her nipples. He's twisted,” Christian said, shaking his head.
“There is something seriously wrong with him,” I grunted.
“Luke is playing the piano—a grand white piano. His hair is tied back, and he's wearing a white tuxedo that has blood splattered on it. His eyes are jet black, and he's singing a Beetles song,” Christian said, closing his eyes, and concentrating on Luke.
“What is Maximo doing?” I asked.
Maximo stands up to dance with the young woman. She's crying to him, pleading with him, not to hurt her. Maximo’s hair is long, and he's shirtless, resembling an eighties rocker. He has a long scar across his chest, and he's wearing leather pants and is barefoot,” Christian said, opening his eyes.
“Larus Stefansson gave him that scar,” Zachary said. “Fifty-five years ago, and then Maximo went into hiding.”
“He's not hiding anymore,” I said.
“Maximo twirls her, laughing, then swiftly takes out a blade from a pendant around his neck and slices her throat open. Clyde lunges for her neck,” Christian said, barely holding it together.
I held on to my brother's hand. “What else do you see?” I asked.
“They are feeding off of her...there is blood everywhere, and she is wearing a wedding band. I see...I see her husband's body. He is on the floor tied up with tape on his mouth, and he's still alive,” Christian said with a disgusted look.
“Wait, Aaron is going to a mirror, 'Watcher,' he is screaming with blood dripping down his mouth, 'If you are seeing this...remember this is what we are going to do to your sister.' He then breaks the mirror with his fist,” Christian said with widened eyes, and stands up abruptly, staring at me.”
