Page 58 of Aïdes the Unseen
IRINA
As if the encounter with Skotos wasn’t enough to disrupt the day, Mara wasn’t in.
Her office lights were off. No note. No texts. Just Mara’s gloves folded neatly on her workstation, like she’d slipped out of her skin and just wandered off.
Weird. She was always here before me. Quiet as a ghost, but stillhere. Today, of all days, when I wanted—needed—answers she wasn’t here. The readings. The ivy. The walls.
So many questions. Including why did I keep waking up with soil under my fingernails? Was sleep-gardening even a thing? Skotos just added more questions to my ever-growing list.
The greenhouse air was thicker than usual, warmer too. The humidity monitor was calibrated, but everything felt a few degrees too alive. The plants turned more quickly toward movement. Themimosa pudicasflinched before I touched them. EvenRegrowthseemed agitated, petals twitching open and shut like breath.
The puppy, still unnamed, sat curled in the sun spot on my office floor, chin resting on his adorable paws. Watching me. The white paw just seemed to gleam against all the darkness.
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” I muttered.
He didn’t blink.
By midday, I gave up waiting for Mara to come in “late.” The staff calendar showed nothing. Not PTO. No meetings. Just a sudden absence that felt… deliberate. So when the front desk buzzed my line with a visitor I wasn’t expecting, I was already on edge.
“Someone from the city,” Mindy, the assistant, said, trying to sound casual. “Says he’s here to tour the Annex as a potential arts patron.”
“City doesn’t do private patronage,” I said, already suspicious.
“He’s notwiththe city,” she added, lower like she’d turned and covered the microphone to keep her words hushed. “But he’s got thatlook.”
I sighed. Mindy was easy to persuade with a pretty face. “What look?”
“You’ll see.”
“Well,” I said to the puppy, “I guess we’ll find out.” Unfortunately, Mindy proved to be correct. He had the look.
Tall, dark, expensive—like a sculpture of a man that had been taught how to move convincingly. He wore a sleek black shirt, no tie, unbuttoned just enough to suggest heat tolerance or arrogance. His blazer was slate-gray, tailored to within an inch of its life, and he wore his confidence like a scent.
His hair was neatly tousled, jaw sharp, sunglasses tucked into his collar like they’d never seen actual sun. A scar traced his jawline, but the roughness of it seemed to enhance his beauty. An aesthetic, not an accident.
He smiled when I stepped into the atrium. Not wide, just enough. His expression said he expected this to be fun.
Well, that made one of us.
“Ms. Bloom,” he said, voice smooth with a rasp at the edge. “I’ve heard good things.”
“And who exactly have you heard them from?” I asked, not smiling at all.
His grin deepened into a delighted one. “That would ruin the charm of mystery, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t do mystery tours.”
“Then think of this as a courtship.” He offered a hand. “I’m Kassian Harpe. I represent a small fund that’s very interested in immersive bio-art.Future Flora,especially.”
Kassian Harpe.
The name meant nothing, but I’d heard worse pitches. It wasn’t like we were flush with donors who didn’t want to install NFTs or algorithmic nonsense among the orchids. Still, I didn’t trust anyone who led with charm before credentials. While he held out his hand, I didn’t accept. “I don’t take potential donors through exhibits without notice.”
“I’m not just a donor,” he said easily enough and let his hand lower to smooth down his lapels. “I’m an admirer.”
“Of plants?” I doubted my tone could get much drier.
“You misunderstand.” He stepped closer. “I am a great admirer of power that grows slowly and doesn’t ask permission.”
