“Who was that girl you were with at the Italian restaurant last night?” My mom pried as she took a seat on a stool next to me at the bar located in the family library.
This was one of my favorite rooms, probably because my sister never ventured here. Two wall bookshelves were lined top to bottom with rare books from all over the world. The windows on the back side of the room opened up to a patio with views of our well-hedged garden filled with ancient Greek statues. The bar was stocked, primarily with gins and whiskeys, which was yet another excellent reason to sit here—this was also one of the few rooms in the house where I had some good memories. My father, typically cold and unexpressive, had taken a book off the shelf when I was ten and given it to me, saying, “This was my favorite book as a boy, so I am passing it to you. It will be your favorite book as well.” It was a leather-bound copy of Lord of the Flies. Although it was actually not my favorite book, I still kept it in my bedside table, probably because Father had actually given me something personal. I felt so proud that day. And I had another good memory in this room, although one that my mother denied. The details are hazy, but I swore I remembered her reading me Robinson Crusoe when I was very young, maybe four or five. When I’d asked her about it, she shrugged it off, saying it was probably the nanny.
“Well?” Mom questioned impatiently. She was wearing a deep-red slouchy cashmere sweater and black leather pants—casual for her.
“Are you spying on me?” I asked incredulously. I don’t normally spend Saturday evenings at my parents’ house, but Mom had called and told me to come over, so I reluctantly complied. Both Dad and Alecia were out on a business meeting in Mexico, so I thought she really just wanted some company—now I wasn’t sure. I needed to remember to be careful how I spoke to my mom. She was one of the rare D Glows in history that could do magic, and she wouldn’t hesitate to zap Alecia or me with a spark if we got out of line. Yes, of all people, it had to be my very own mother who was going to test for D Glow queen status.
“No,” Mom replied curtly, “but your father has placed 24/7 surveillance on you for your protection, and that is what the security report for today stated. He hasn’t seen it yet.”
“Damn lightness,” I exclaimed. “I’m already under cover, and now I’m under surveillance? This is ridiculous! Since when?”
“Ever since that crazy woman tried to stab you,” my mom retorted calmly.
“That was three months ago, and it wasn’t even cartel related. She was just plain crazy.” I stood up abruptly. “And Father is the one who told me to go out with her!” I cried. I was irritated and furious simultaneously. I could sort of understand the concern if everyone knew me as Stephen, but most outsiders, including that wacko, knew me as Julien.
“Answer my question,” my mother hissed. She raised her hand and I threw my hands up, instinctively expecting to be zapped. Instead, a glass bottle of water flew out of the small refrigerator behind the counter and landed neatly in front of her. My mother opened the bottle and poured some into a double old-fashioned glass. The water bottle then floated up and hovered in front of my head as if to hint she could pour it over me at any time.
I sat back down. “Water?” I asked, somewhat surprised. My mom was not a heavy drinker, but she never turned down a good scotch. Lately, I’d noticed she only seemed to be drinking when Father was home.
“Why not?” she asked, reaching over me to grab a slice of lime from a small bowl on the counter. “Now quit stalling and tell me what you were up to last night.”
“Well, I wasn’t with Sabrina,” I said sarcastically. Sabrina was a nasty-looking D Glow with the longest nails I had ever seen. She was the woman my father set me up to meet the other night. I wanted to turn around and run when I first saw her. Between her endlessly long eyelashes and thick, extravagant makeup, she’d looked more like a doll than a woman. I complied with my Father's wishes, though, and asked her to go to lunch and a movie earlier today, even though I didn’t want to and really had work to do. The movie was fine since I didn’t have to talk to her, but lunch was a disastrous waste of time. I took her to a seafood restaurant in one of my father's hotels, and, of course, she ordered the most expensive items on the menu. We had absolutely nothing in common, but she didn’t seem to notice because she monologued the entire time about money and her latest gaudy purchases. As if she could ever have as much money as my family spends in a week. Ha. I just sat there, barely containing my disdain for her and her screechy voice. I even found myself drifting off into a daydream about Skyla. Beautiful, sweet Skyla. Something about her pure, natural presence was very attractive. I told Sabrina I would call her again when I dropped her off at Saks Fifth Avenue, per her request, but I’d lied. No way was that gonna happen.
I grabbed the Perrier bottle from the air and poured a few drops into my whiskey. The water bottle settled on the bar counter. I remembered how I had lied to Skyla about never drinking and certainly didn’t want that lie to become reality.
“She is a Light Glow I’ve decided to turn,” I started, tilting the glass to the side to see the bar lights overhead reflect across the crystal. “Her name is Skyla and she's a nutritionist.” I sipped my whiskey slowly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
“I see.” Mom swiveled her chair to the left toward me and rested her right hand under her chin. “And how's that going for you?”
“I think it's going very well,” I sighed, pleased. “But I screwed up a little.”
“How?” My mom demanded, her hand falling from her chin into a fist on the table.
“Well, I forgot to take off one of my Patek Philippes when we went out to dinner.” I looked down at the glossy floor to avoid eye contact with my mother. “I borrowed Ty's car. His father is making him drive a VW Golf right now since he totaled two Porsches in a row. I even made sure not to wear major labels, but I forgot all about the damn watch.”
“And you think she's onto you now?” Her eyes narrowed.
I was regretting telling her this—it was never good when Mom got agitated. I didn’t truly believe Skyla doubted me, anyway.
“No, she seemed to believe my lie that Grandfather won it in a raffle.”
My mom burst into laughter, almost spewing out the water she just drank.
“She's that naive? This little Glow will be an easy turn for you then!”
I started to laugh, too. I was rather proud of myself for coming up with a lie like that on the fly. After a minute or two, my mom's tone got serious again. “It sounds like you’re on a good track, but let me give you a word of warning. Let's keep her name and information to ourselves for now. I will add a note to the bottom of the report that we spoke and that she is an L Glow you are using to help you with your marketing job.”
“Why can’t we say I’m trying to move her?” I asked pointedly.
After last night's date, I was not entirely sure I truly wanted to move Skyla. She was the kindest, most unsuspecting person I had ever met. But what choice did I have? Alecia had turned at least four Normals into the dark-gray zone. She was a natural. Skyla was a Light Glow—far more difficult to turn than a Normal. If I could move her, I could totally rub it in Alecia's face.
“If you’re not able to turn her, it will look bad,” Mother said curtly.
“You just said she’d be an easy turn! Wait, you really don’t think I can move an L Glow, do you?” I said. I was hurt that my mom didn’t think I could do this.
“Stephen,” she said firmly. “Look at me.” I swiveled my barstool to the right to look her in the face.
“I do believe you can turn her. I’m just not sure if you should be focused on that right now.”
“Why?” I asked, surprised. Does she know I actually might like her? Oh darkness, can she now read minds, too? I was suddenly concerned that my mom was reading my mind at this very moment. None of us truly knew the extent of the magic she possessed because she was keeping it a secret until the testing. I looked at her more intently to see if her face revealed anything. She seemed less tense than usual. Her long brown hair was wavy today, not tightly pulled back like usual. She also wasn’t wearing her go-to dark-red lipstick, which typically made her look older and more serious. If I didn’t know her, I would’ve never guessed that this was the same woman who helped my father's security team on a number of missions to thwart enemy deals and kill off rival cartel members. My sister would come back excited to tell the tales of how brutal Mom could be. Alecia loved this, of course. I would always show a high-level of enthusiasm, but, in reality, it made my stomach turn. I secretly pleaded they never put me on a security mission.
My mom didn’t answer my question. Instead, she changed the subject.
“I will talk to your father about pulling your security. It's a little over the top. Pretty soon you won’t need to be undercover anymore, anyway. I now have more spell powers and am going into testing soon for queen status. I am telling you—I will get this. Once I have that title, no one can touch us.”
The Dark Glow royal title had not yet been achieved by any Glow in darkness history. Many have tried, but the magic they possessed was show magic, what the Council deemed “tricks” rather than real powers. Some D Glows had complained and petitioned the Council to reduce the requirements so more could actually have a chance at getting this prestigious title, but the Council would not budge. My mother already could move things telepathically and even zap me with a small bolt of energy, but to be named a queen, one had to demonstrate three impressive powers. She discounted the energy bolt, as it didn’t even cause injuries. “It is more of a warning tap, so I wouldn’t dare show the Council something so mundane,” she had told me a couple months back. Once a queen, she would become a Council member—this was a monumental deal, as all Council members, except those titled kings or queens, were appointed for life by Darkness himself. I truly believed it was also the only reason my mother and father were still together. The fact that my parents had been in a partnership for over twenty years was a complete anomaly in the darkness world. D Glows don’t get married per se. They have the extravagant wedding, of course, but it's really just a partnership—an agreement to have D Glow children and make as much money together as possible. A divorce, as Normals call it, is really just an agreement as to who gets what. Mother probably stuck around because she enjoyed traveling the world in luxury and possessing all the material wealth her heart desired, which came from being partnered with Father. She knew my father was not faithful, yet she blatantly didn’t seem to mind as long as he left her alone to practice her spells when she wanted.
Well, I take that back—there was one incident when she cared. I was a thirteen, but I still remember it well. It was the first time we had seen Mom's first polished power. I’m not sure how it all started or how she got in, but one of Father's mistresses showed up at the house demanding money. My sister and I had run into the foyer to see what all the commotion was about. We were amazed to discover my mother glaring at a tall, lanky woman crying out in panic. The woman was trying not to move for fear of being sliced by one of the twenty-something knives surrounding her in the air. “Awesome!” my preteen sister had cheered. The security team was just standing there with their mouths agape, not sure what to do. Amid this turmoil, my father walked in from another room. It felt as though everything stood still for a moment while we awaited his reaction. He took one look at the woman surrounded by knives and then turned his gaze to my fuming mother and smiled a crooked smile. He then calmly stated to the mistress, “Did you really think you could get away with coming to my house? You get what you deserve.” He didn’t bother to stay—this sort of drama irritated him. He had told me from a very young age that if I was ever kidnapped and tortured to never beg for mercy. The woman started screaming my father's name, begging him to come back, and that didn’t help her case. My mom dropped the knives and walked up to her, kicking them out of the way. “You aren’t worthy of a quick death,” she had jeered softly. She stepped back, and to Alecia's dismay, the security team took the woman away. We never spoke of the incident again, but it made me realize why Father was still partnered with Mom.
It would be pretty cool if my mom was crowned. I would be like D Glow royalty and I could quit my cover job and just use my real name. Then it dawned on me: Skyla. This was getting more complicated by the minute. I faltered. L Glows would undoubtedly get wind of this crowning, and pictures of my mother and perhaps the entire LeBete family would be in their news. I would have to move quickly if I was really going to turn her. Maybe my mom was trying to tell me to back off because she knew I was in a time crunch. Why else would an almost queen D Glow want me to refrain from moving an L Glow into darkness? I realized I had drifted into thought and hadn’t been listening to my mom. I tuned back into the conversation.
“…anyway, it might be a good idea to actually go to Colombia for a while and get hands-on experience with the business.”
“Now?” I asked, taken aback. “I thought I was going to shadow Father once the announcement was made?”
“I didn’t say now,” my mom snapped. “But after the testing, maybe go there first, then shadow your father.”
Leading a cartel was not something I would choose to do, but I had accepted my fate. Father had always said I would take over the business and at some point, he would make the decision official and set a timeline for the transition. This, of course, pissed Alecia off because she felt like she could do a better job. It was probably true; she was more ruthless than me. I shuddered at the thought of ordering my staff to have someone killed. If it didn’t bother her so much, I would relent and ask Father to let her take over. But after dealing with Alecia's constant complaining about the subject, now it was simply a matter of principle that I wanted to take a leading role. I would love for her to have to take orders from me; she would have no choice. It's a very strict code—once you’re on the LeBete team, you must adhere to the hierarchy; you’re loyal and you’re in forever or you’re dead. To this day, I sat in on monthly internal meetings and, although he never asked my opinion, my father questioned me afterward to make sure I was paying attention and understood current projects. My father never let me go on trips or have any dealings with anyone outside the organization, though. After all, Stephen was supposed to be in Colombia, and someone as powerful as my father would never travel with the likes of Julien, a much lower ranked nephew.
“Stephen,” said Mom assertively, “I don’t think you’re cut out for this job. You’re too soft and frankly, you’ll bring our family to ruin. You need to get more experience under your belt, and Colombia is a good place to start. If you make a mistake, it will be noticed less there. ” Mom tapped her now empty water glass with her long black painted nails and sighed deeply.
I slumped back in my chair. Of course, she was right.
“He’ll kill me if you tell him I’m too soft for the job,” I said softly, trying not to sound like a sap.
“I’m not stupid, Stephen. You are an asset to this family, so of course I wouldn’t say you should go to Colombia because you’re too soft,” she scoffed. “I would argue that Colombia is a good place to get your feet wet. Why do you think it makes sense for ‘Stephen’ to be there right now?” She made fake air quotes when she said my name.
“Besides, I think your father will listen to me once I’m crowned.” She snatched my glass and finished my whiskey. So much for sticking to just water. I stood up and sauntered behind the bar to retrieve a bottle of Glenfiddich and poured some into the glass now in front of my mom.
“Ice?” I offered. I was a little confused. Mom was acting different, showing emotion. It was one thing to advise me to back off from turning an L Glow, but to ask my father if I could start in Colombia to learn the business? She had helped groom me for that position for years. Maybe she didn’t feel well? I didn’t dare ask if she was doing OK, though. That would make me look sappy.
Mom shook her head no and took a sip of the freshly poured whiskey. She looked like she needed it more than I did—as if, suddenly, a huge weight lay on her shoulders. Maybe she is worried she might not pass the queen test? That's something I know she’d never admit out loud. It certainly would explain her pensive behavior. If a D Glow wasted the Council's time and didn’t possess the talent to pass a test, they would not hesitate to kill that Glow on the spot.
“Do you know if anyone else is testing this year?” I asked, circling back to our conversation. I stayed standing in front of her behind the bar.
“No,” she said. “Although the Council would welcome as many queens—or even kings—as they could get.” She stared into the crystal glass as if in deep thought.
“And what would you do exactly, once appointed?” I never really paid much attention to this in my darkness classes.
“Well,” Mom started slowly, “there hasn’t ever been a queen, so we’ll need to first propose a strategy for how I could assist Darkness best.” She took another sip of the whiskey and set the crystal glass down on the counter. Rising from her seat, she looked me in the eye and tossed me a half-hearted smile.
“Things are going to change around here soon. I need to go check on a lead for your father, but stay as long as you please.” She picked up her cell phone she had left lying on one of the ebony side tables. “Oh, and Stephen, think about what I said.” She turned and started dialing a number as she headed out of the room. I could her hear voice echoing down the hallway but couldn’t pick out any specific words.
I looked at my watch. “Dark!” I muttered. It was already 9:55 p.m. I had wanted to go back to the office but was too exhausted now—I would just have to go in early tomorrow. Or maybe I wouldn’t and just get fired. I drained the remaining whiskey, found my jacket the butler had hung up after I had flung it across the sofa, and headed out.