11. THE DEMON SAID: "SEIZE THE RING AND FLEE."

"Everything about you is how I'd wanna be

Your freedom comes naturally

Everything about you resonates happiness

Now I won't settle for less

Give me all the peace and joy in your mind."

Bliss, Muse

With the wine bottles packed in his hands, Set stood at Central Park's access from 59th Street. He'd followed the instructions found in the hand-drawn map that was in the back of the gift-card. Both, the card and the map, even the envelope containing them, were all decorated with frilly flowers and little hearts. Creepy.

Still, the exact address was not specified.

Set looked around carefully, as pointless as it might be. Across the greens stood several buildings. He had no idea which one was the right one. So, there he was, sticking out like a bloody sore thumb.

Nice-looking people kept passing him, most of them busy with jogging, phones, dogs or children. Some of them with all of that shit at once. Set moved his eyes from the happily swinging ponytail of a brown-haired girl in lemon-colored shorts to a black woman pushing a stroller--she chatted back to the headphones tucked in her ears, still wearing a jumpsuit to pretend she was exercising. Neither of them looked back. They just carefully changed their trajectory.

Thanks to his grungy look, Set was scrutinized and avoided. Nobody asked him to move aside either. Plastered all over their faces was the fear he could beg for money or—worst-case scenario—being sick and contagious.

He had been waiting for almost a half-hour, and his nerves were worn thin when a woman walked straight to him. She had short curly hair, huge boobs squeezed into a white tank top, and thick thighs in ultra-skinny jeans, bleached and breached to add a touch of wild to her hot look.

Set forgot to act cool and stared openly.

While she sashayed closer in her golden wedges, he squinted at her chest and shoulder tattoos. His eyes darted back to her face as she brushed her curls away from her eyes, and uncovered the ugly truth. It was Maria, Vito's daughter. She stopped in front of Set and glanced at the box he was carrying. After a moment, her narrowed eyes moved up to meet his.

"Please, tell me I'm wrong," she said, her pretty mouth twisted downward.

Set scratched the back of his head, his other hand still holding tight onto the wine. "You are wrong...?"

Maria huffed. "Mister Vain sent me to pick up his guest and his wine." She pointed at the bottles with a raised eyebrow.

"Took him long enough." Set shrugged.

She glared at him and turned around, leading the way.

Although he was taken aback by Maria's arrival as well as by her look, Set didn't ask any questions and quietly followed. She walked past the tree-lined street and crossed the bike lane. They got out of the greens on the left side of Center Drive and reached a six-story modern building. Set glanced up at the squared, light grey front. It seemed inconspicuous if not for the huge windows and what looked like a massive terrace on the top floor. Beside the main gate a sign read: For Rent or Sale, MetroLiving Agency, and a phone number.

Maria waved at the guard and was allowed inside.

As they took the elevator, tension built up. She kept giving him side-glances and shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The swishing of her thighs slithered into Set's ears and fogged his brain. His heartbeat thundered like a war drum as his nostrils picked up her smell. They were too close in that narrow space. He squeezed in the opposite corner and held his breath, his eyes glued to the floor. For the entire ride, he was on the verge of bursting.

The ping of the opening doors made him jolt and gasp for air.

Maria stepped out at the last floor and reached a no-name, no-number, white door. Set kept a safe distance and scanned the place. A wide corridor stretched from the lift to the only door, blood red carpet on the floor and lush plants decorating its sides. It widened in a waiting space at the end, two sofas taking the places of the greenery.

Maria swiped a card over the black square in place of a lock. Then, she punched in a 4-digit code on the typeset of the security panel beside the door. With a metallic clack, the door unlocked. She walked in and waited for Set to follow.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, his breathing eased. The hallway was wide, empty, still, and white. Set inhaled deeply and every part of his body loosened up, intoxicated by a sweet, fresh, exotic fragrance. He could've recognized it anywhere, as he did when it hung on Isaac's clothes. It was Vain's peculiar scent.

"What's this smell?" he asked.

Maria stiffened and looked back over her shoulder.

"It's Nag-Champa, an Indian incense." She ran her hand through her luscious, black hair. "You're not going to ask me what I'm doing here instead?" she questioned with an edge in her voice.

Obviously, she feared Set might get the wrong idea. In fact, he didn't have any idea, let alone a wrong one.

"What are you doing here?" he said flat out.

"I'm sort of the housekeeper—doing the cleaning, cooking, laundry, and running errands—you know, nothing special." As she turned around, a smile softened her face. She scanned Set from head to toe and pointed at the pack he was holding. "Give me that, and take off your shoes."

As soon as he handed her the wine, Maria walked off. When she came back, holding a pile of fresh towels and clean clothes, she tilted her chin for him to follow her. Set scratched his beard and didn't move an inch.

"Mister Vain asked me to arrange a change of clothes and a bath for his guest." She looked down and bit her lip before bringing her eyes up to his again. "I have to make sure that you relax in the Jacuzzi before dinner." She kept her voice soft and low, but her eyes narrowed. Then, she repeated her sign in a way that felt more like follow-me-now-you-jerk.

Set found it lovely that she spoke more honest words with her body than with her mouth. He huffed but followed her across marble flooring, before slipping off his shoes to get into the hallway, where the sound of his steps was muffled by warm wood. When he reached the shoe rack, he stared at it, trying to figure how it would open. Maria crouched down, slid the door open, picked a couple of bamboo flip-flops and set them in front of his feet. The whole act felt awkward. She was so tense that she couldn't bear to look at him again.

Set burst out laughing as he slipped them on. "You make a good maid," he stated, amused.

At that, Maria peeked up. Set gave her his badass half-grin and a firm nod, and she smiled back. As she stood and led the way through the corridor, her shoulders relaxed too.

Wanting to keep Maria at ease, Set whistled when they entered the wide living room. On their left, a black grand piano stood at the corner between the white wall and a huge window that overlooked Central Park.

Set cracked his knuckles. He knew a couple of songs he'd learned in a shady jazz club in New Orleans. If he had any money, he would've bet Sybil Vain couldn't play. Rich people stuffed their houses with things they didn't use. He shifted his eyes from the instrument to the darkening sky.

The scenic glass opened onto a wide terrace with a round table surrounded by plants and dark parquet, contrasting the indoor lighter shade of wood. Amidst the green, he could barely make out someone standing, but Maria snapped her fingers and caught his attention back. She moved on and he followed.

Facing them, on the other side of the room, hung a massive painting of a naked woman. Lying on her side with her back on display, she aimed a smoldering glare over a huge, L-shaped snowy sofa that complimented a modern glass coffee table. A white door was shut beside them.

Staring at the portrait, Set was reminded of the naughty book and sneered. He patted the cover through the fabric of his pocket as his eyes wandered to the right side, where a wooden arch showed off a squared dining table and gave glimpses of a modern kitchen. His stomach growled as he pictured some decent home cooking.

Maria hurried through the living room and took the door beside the sofa. In the corridor, she headed into the first room on the left. Inside was a huge bedroom with the same stunning view of the park, framed by the flowing white waves of a full-length open curtain. It had a king-size bed, two nightstands with artistic lamps, and a simple but dazzling walk-in-closet. Apart from the greenish-blue wall behind the headrest, the similarily-colored pillows, and the wooden floor, everything was white.

Maria pulled open the door beside the closet. Set walked over and peeked in, but still kept a safe distance. The bathroom was as lavish as the rest of the house, featuring a side-to-side wall mirror, a gorgeous in-floor bathtub in the center, pink marble countertops, and double sinks on both ends. Oddly, there was a door on the other side too.

Maria motioned for him to step in. As he did, she closed the door behind her back. Set turned around and gave her a suspicious look.

Her face darkened. "Why are you here, Set?" she hissed.

Before he could reply, she walked past him to drop towels and clothes on the marble countertop, her hands slightly shaking. Set's eyes followed her as she moved away and kneeled down to turn on the hot water tab in the bath.

"I just came to see Mister Vain," he said casually, starting to take off his clothes.

"Duna accura!*" she warned him, slapping her hands on the marble step surrounding the tub. "I don't know what he told you, but you need to stay away from him," she spoke under her breath and finally turned to face him.

Before she could point her finger at him, her hand froze mid-air and her face turned beet-red. Already stripped to the bone, Set dropped his clothes on the floor and walked up to her.

"I doubt he could be more dangerous than I am," he replied with a wry smile as he crouched down beside her.

At such a close distance, her lips—parted in surprise—were tempting. He froze, the smile fading from his face. Heat stirred his gut as the sinister vibration ran through his spine. He held back the urge to touch her and ran a hand over his eyes, cursing his own stupidity. Still, he could feel her presence and the pressure kept rising inside of him.

Her flustered voice gave him shivers. "It's not you that I'm worried about!"

Set gritted his teeth and slightly bent over, careful not to touch her shoulder with his forehead. He strived to keep the energy in. The peach scent of her skin and the sound of her fast breathing muddled his mind. His hands moved away from his burning eyes, and he knew he was going to hurt her. He clenched his knees to stop them from moving on their own.

"I... I have to go," she whispered, pulling back as she stood.

As his body sagged on itself, Set gasped in a breath.

Her scent still clung to the air when she cleared her throat, but her voice rang from a few meters away. "When you are done, Mister Vain is waiting for you on the terrace."

Set slowly lifted his left hand, as an affirmative sign. He couldn't talk yet. Luckily, Maria knew him well enough to fear his outbursts and she rushed out of the bathroom, just in time to avoid one of them. His hand fell back to the marble rim of the tub.

Set waited, molten and still, like wax after the flame has just died out.

As the energy simmered down, warm water licked his fingers. He let out a breath of relief. Slowly, he opened his eyes and shifted his posture to turn off the tub.

Maria was his type, but he needed to drill into his head that she was off-limits. From the tiny bits he could remember, sex had only been a hellish experience for him. It could've been fine to give it another try with a crackpot like him, but Maria wasn't. She was a good girl and Vito's daughter. He couldn't screw it up.

He slipped in the tub. The pleasure of soaking in hot water was something he had almost forgotten. The gentle embrace of the liquid soothed his nerves. He rested his head on the marble edge and closed his eyes. For a moment, he was back in his childhood, at the cozy house of his parents. The sense of nostalgia was so heavy that it melted something in his heart and tears welled up in his eyes.

How long had it been since the last time?

Starting at sixteen, his outbursts had destroyed everything around him and—bit by bit—eaten up his memory as well. There were days when he longed to meet his family and friends once more, but he didn't have the slightest idea where to find them. He couldn't even recall their names. He was left with nothing more than glimpses of their faces.

Set winced, passed a hand over his face and slowly opened his eyes. Grabbing the sponge, he rubbed his skin as hard as he could. He punished himself for that daydream, trying to come back to reality.

It didn't work.

Stubbornly, he pushed his head underwater until he was forced out by the lack of oxygen, harshly soaped his scalp and dipped in again. This time, he held his breath until he nearly passed out, yet it wasn't enough. That nostalgic feeling lingered.

Defeated, he pulled out of the bath, wrapped himself in the soft towel, and then slipped into clean clothes—a pair of white trousers and a t-shirt, plain and simple, but the good-quality cotton was a pleasure to touch. They smelled good too.

He breathed in Vain's scent and the weight lifted off his chest.

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he realized that it wasn't great. He looked starved and confused like a stray dog just picked up from the road. The clothes didn't suit him and fell loose. He fixed his beard with shaky fingers and pulled back the long black hair. Picturing Vain's face, he tried to put on a sassy smile, but it just looked pathetic. Set shook his head and moved on.

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, his heartbeat sped up. At the idea of the Shining White Being waiting out there, Set felt like a sinner at Heaven's gate. He didn't know what to expect. Still, he took a deep breath and steeled himself to go.

In front of the open door that led to the balcony—facing the dark sky and the lights twinkling off in the city—Set froze again and just peeked at the man outside.

Sybil Vain wasn't facing him. He sat at the right of the lavishly decked table, illuminated by the shimmering glow of countless candles. Kissed by the living lights, his stupefying white hair seemed to be braided with gemstones.

"You can come closer, I don't bite," the man spoke softly.

Lost in the sight of the dancing diamonds, Set took a few steps. As his eyes fell on Vain's androgynous profile, all his unsettling emotions disappeared, replaced by reassuring warmth. The flickering energy that usually crossed his body and triggered his crazy visions dozed like a quiet cat. Even the sense of danger and the fear of losing control that forced him to keep his distance from others were gone.

With his simple presence, Sybil Vain silenced everything.

There were no ripples in the clear water of the abyss he held inside, no disturbance in its emptiness. He was so transparent that it really felt like being in front of God.

Mesmerized, Set reached the table and settled down beside him.

"What's your name?" asked the god, still gazing at the darkening sky.

"Set Voland," he uttered his name with the deference of a believer stepping in a church, swallowed and then held his breath.

"An interesting one. Was it given by your parents?"

Despite Vain's mellow and reassuring tone, Set's jaw clenched and unclenched as he listened. He thought about lying or at least ignoring the awkward question. Unable to defy the other man, he let out his breath and the answer came.

"No. Somebody else gave it to me, but I can't remember the real one."

His breath caught in his throat as he recalled the moment his old name had been lost amidst hallucinated memories, and the demon had named him Set Voland.

As if he could read minds, Sybil Vain raised his right hand and a flicker caught Set's eyes. It was a gold ring that glimmered against his pale skin. Set couldn't take his eyes off of it. The six-pointed star carved on the jewel had something familiar and oddly attractive. The demon stirred and hissed in the back of his mind. Seize the ring and flee.

"Thanks for bringing the wine, Set. Tonight, you are my guest." Gracefully uncurling his fingers, Vain pointed at the table. "Please, help yourself."

Set followed the ring as the host poured half a glass of dark red wine for both of them. It could've been a trick of the light, but the metal looked like liquid. Taken by the weird glistening, Set stretched over the table and his fingers brushed against the other's skin. He tensed and instinctively looked up at the man.

Finally, their eyes met.

Somebody said that if you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. It was true. Sybil Vain's eyes were the center and origin of the universe, the boundless depth where everything ends and everything starts. They were silent darkness, bottomless yet inviting, holding the potential to create new worlds by the shimmering dance of countless stars.

Set could only contemplate them as he became as empty and still as their bearer. Time, space, and matter were gone for good. Nobody and nothing remained, yet that nothingness was everything and everybody.

When Sybil Vain blinked, Set snapped back to reality. He didn't have words to say, and the oddness of the moment they'd shared hit him hard enough to require an immediate diversion.

Set threw himself head-on onto the pasta and took as much as he could. His clumsy manners messed the tablecloth with blobs of tomato, all along the way from the serving bowl to his plate, making him shift uncomfortably on his seat. Chewing away on the fine taste of Maria's cooking, he forgot about it.

As the dinner went by, Set's glass was refilled many times by the bizarre host and he drank eagerly. The wine was strong but sweet, far too easy to drink. Sweeping away the last remains of fish, carrots, and potatoes, Set was dimly aware of the first empty bottle being put aside.

Sybil Vain popped open the second one. By its yellowish color, this other wine resembled beer, but it tasted sweeter than honey. His stomach full, Set indulged in the new pleasure, drinking carefully until the last drop.

As if that wasn't enough of a treat already, the wine came accompanied by a small basket filled with Reginelle and Cannoli. Munching away at one of Vito's specialties, ricotta cream smeared all over his chin and hand, Set peeked at Sybil Vain for the hundredth time.

Unfazed, the man took a sip from his glass—only the second one he had—and let out a satisfied moan. He moved the chair aside and leaned on it to look up at the sky, now as black as his eyes. Silence persisted for an indefinite amount of time. When the conversation restarted, Set had switched to an open stare, while licking the cream off his own fingers. He was completely drunk.

Vain threw him a side-glance. "During the last few months, almost every night, I've been dreaming my death," he revealed in a low, yet peaceful voice. "I looked for you because I'm certain that, soon, somebody is going to shoot me in the back."

A clear memory surfaced in the emptiness of Set's mind. It was a flash of their first meeting, after Set's escape from the hospital. Their conversation replayed like a movie, and Set finally understood what the other had meant when he had talked about killing him. He went pale, chills ran through his spine and his hands started shaking.

"You think it's me, and you want to take me down beforehand, don't you?" he hissed and grabbed the edges of the table ready to turn it around.