Pray or Be Prey

Chapter 8

The exterior of the house was of straight lines and flat walls. The occasional long, narrow window broke the surface of slate-colored concrete. It fits him, Mirah thought as she steadied her breathing before exiting her car. Salty air tickled her nose as gentle waves splashed against nearby barrier walls. Soft yellow lighting lined the stone path, leading to the dark wood-stained oversized front door. Motion sensor lights suddenly illuminated the last fifty feet, and seconds later, the front door slowly opened—perfectly timed.

Before Mirah could break her stride, Ayularc motioned for her to continue into the house with a wave of his arm.

"So glad you came," he said with a smile that initially didn't match his eyes until he caught Mirah's lingering stare, quickly adjusting his expression.

Mirah walked into the open space, quickly trying to take in everything as she stepped further into the space. Save for a large sectional, an oversized side chair, and a thick shaggy rug; the living area was sparsely furnished. Several odd-shaped art pieces hung on the walls. The night's gentle breeze again greeted her, this time through two sets of glass floor-to-ceiling open windows. The sound of the water from the bay was hypnotic.

"Do have a seat. Would you care for something to drink? Dinner is almost ready."

"Ahh, water would be nice, thanks."

"Ice?"

"No, thank you," Mirah replied, eyes transfixed on the bay, following a wave before it merged into another. Seeing the body of water so close left her feeling unusually unsettled. She quickly shook her head and shoulders, playing with a tourmaline stone set in a gold band ring, before turning her attention to one of the pieces of art on a nearby wall. Her reaction to the water didn't go unnoticed by Ayularc.

Before Mirah could miss his absence, Ayularc returned with a tall glass of water. He managed to hand it to Mirah without their fingers touching, the unpleasantness of which he was currently not in the mood to experience. The memory of the pain he'd experienced earlier was still fresh.

"Interesting pieces you have. Not quite sure what it's meant to be?" Mirah said with her head tilted to the left as if that angle would provide some hints as to what she'd be staring at.

"They are based on a painting from another lifetime."

"You paint?"

"I used to, but that is a pleasure given up due to the loss of my muse."

"I see," Mirah said softly, sensing the sadness behind the smile Ayularc's face still wore. Wanting to lighten the mood, she continued, "why this house? I mean, the view is breathtaking and doesn't sound like you have many neighbors to worry about regarding noise."

"Yes, well proximity to the bay was a key factor, and indeed, privacy is important. I purchased the surrounding three acres of land and had the house custom built."

"I'm sure you had, or should I say, have your reasons for privacy and the custom build," Mirah said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Dinner's ready. Right this way," Ayularc said, arm stretched toward a hallway leading off the side of the room.

I didn't hear a timer go off, nor did I notice anyone else appear in the room—wait, does he have spirits as his butler and cook? Mirah's face of concern made Ayularc quickly provide an explanation.

"I was informed when I got your glass of water the table would be ready for us within three minutes. You'll find I have a thing for punctuality." Ayularc led Mirah around the wall she'd been admiring the art piece hanging on. Against its opposite side was a relatively wide iron staircase that cut through the ceiling above. At the top of the stairs, holding onto the rail for balance, standing on the landing, Mirah gasped, pleasantly surprised to see the beautiful expanse of the bay, along with a part of the city's skyline off in the distance. A minimal amount of concrete walls obstructed the view in front of her.