The Eternal Tomb by Kevin Emerson

Author:Kevin Emerson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497602069
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller

Chapter 11

The Darkling Ball

READY?

“No,” said Oliver aloud. He wasn’t ready for this, at all. He sat on a pillow, floating above the floor of the Merchynt Sylvix’s shop, deep in the Yomi. Across from him, Emalie sat on a pillow as well. She wore a crimson velvet dress that began just below her shoulders. It was fitted through her waist, and flared into a wide skirt. Her hair had made a completely unbraided appearance, and was tied back in a complicated pile behind her head. This accentuated the fine lines from her ears to her chin, down her long neck. Her scarab necklace hung like a jewel at the center of a crown made by her delicate collarbones.

The sight of her caused Oliver to tug nervously at the vest of his black tuxedo, to adjust the hand-knotted bow tie that his dad had so carefully done, to reconsider the matching set of hawk’s eye shirt buttons and talon cuff links, handed down from Sebastian’s father. Were they too much? Too old? Too creepy?

“Oliver,” Emalie huffed. “Stop making your no-face and trust me.”

“I do,” said Oliver, but she looked so… alive. Oliver remembered what she’d said on her birthday. There were proms ahead for her, a wedding, all so soon by vampire time. And it wasn’t just that Oliver wouldn’t be there for those events. What if this incredibly risky plan didn’t work?

Then the world will end, anyway, Emalie thought in his head. And eww! I can’t believe you’re thinking of me getting married!

“I just—” he stammered, “—What about…” Oliver glanced behind Emalie, to where Sylvix stood, arms folded, his face shrouded in a hood.

“Don’t fret, Mr. Nocturne,” he said in a deep, vibrating voice. “Once the price has been paid, my services are incorruptible. And Ms. Watkins’s credit is in good standing.”

“Okay, there’s that again,” said Oliver doubtfully. What are you paying them?

Don’t worry about it.

Oliver turned to Sylvix, well aware that he could hear their thoughts. “Tell me what she paid you.”

“Of course. It is public record, after all. Ms. Watkins paid in days of happiness.”

“What?” Oliver exclaimed. He glared at Emalie. “No, take it back.”

“Sorry, no refunds,” said Sylvix mildly.

“Relax, it was only twelve days.” Emalie flashed her confident smile, but it faded faster than usual.

Oliver couldn’t believe this. Giving away days of happiness would leave a vacuum of sorrow in their place. Didn’t Emalie understand how dangerous those days of pure unhappiness would be? “Did you at least get to pick which days?” he asked worriedly.

“Oliver, stop. And no. Self-selected days weren’t as valuable.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. Of course they weren’t! Nothing was as valuable in the demon world as stolen joy, especially because of the danger it posed to the victim. What if Sylvix took a happy day when Emalie needed one most?

It’s done. Just take my hands and forget about it.

“Fine.” Oliver grasped her hands. They were cold and clammy.

“Now keep me still.” Emalie turned to Sylvix. “Ready.”

Just then the lights went out. There was a moment of darkness, and then Sylvix’s shop was lit in red.

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