Elysium Dreams

One

Someone was flipping on the light in my bedroom. I knew this was a bad sign considering I lived alone. However, considering I lived in the Federal Guard Neighborhood, it meant that it was someone with a key to my house.

Since we had returned less than two days ago from tracking down our most recent serial killer, I was hoping the intrusion in the middle of the night was because my house was on fire. We had tracked down twelve serial killers in the time I had been a member of the Serial Crimes Tracking Unit with the US Marshals.

Our last case had taken us almost two weeks. He had been elusive to say the least, coming out only to kill a few women on random nights of horror. He'd been bold, starting the first night with four women, all shot in the head. After that, he had scaled back to only two or three a night. He had claimed fifty-three women in all before receiving his own head wound.

Frankly, I had been looking forward to a few weeks of rest and recuperation. I blearily opened my eyes. The cool, soothing, green walls greeted me first; Lucas McMichaels greeted me second. I groaned.

"Come on, we've got another and it's a priority. The press has latched onto him and is calling him 'The Flesh Hunter.' He picks a new victim the day his old victim is found. In three months, he's claimed forty-one victims. The locals were keeping it quiet until a journalist found the most recent body while taking a hike in a local wooded park."

"Great," I got out of bed and looked around the room.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"I have yet to repack my travel bag. Where are we going?"

"Alaska."

"It's March. I do not want to go to Alaska."

"Doesn't matter, we're going, pack some sweaters and hoodies." Lucas left my room.

It took me fifteen minutes to pack my bags and toss on some warm clothing. It wasn't exactly warm in Missouri. Alaska was going to be a hell of a lot colder.

Xavier, Michael, and Gabriel were in my living room. I was glad it was Lucas who had come up and woken me. Crawling into bed the previous evening, I had grabbed the two cleanest articles of sleepwear I could find: a black lacy baby-doll style top and flannel polar bear pajama pants with feet. He didn't care what I was wearing; the others would have made an inappropriate comment or two.

Gabriel was doing a good job as team leader. He made sure that the right hand always knew what the left hand was doing. This was in direct contrast to the way Alejandro had run it.

My entire house was still under construction, so to speak. The men were huddled in my living room, surrounded by blank walls. Trevor had been my shadow every time I was at home. So far, he had finished the master bedroom and bathroom, my kitchen, dining room, and library.

I had to admit the work he'd done was spectacular. My bedroom had made me speechless the first time I had seen it. The soothing, green walls were accented by a slightly lighter shade on the ceiling. The ceiling had a crown jewel, knowing my heritage and pride in being Scottish, it had a Celtic knot that was actually a dragon if you looked close enough. It had been free painted by hand.

The bed was another piece of handcrafted artistry. It turned out Trevor didn't just do interior design and cook, he was a master woodworker. The bed had taken him almost a month. It had a rich, dark brown canopy and curtains. They were double sided with thick lining to keep out the light so I could sleep regardless of the time of day. Inside the canopied bed, it was always pitch black.

This was achieved by running the canopy cloth into a custom made slot on the headboard and footboard. Both had curved edges that slid around the sides of the bed about a foot and a half on each side. The curtains did the same thing, overlapping the canopy in both front and back and each other by more than seven inches.

On the inside of the bed, carved in the dark wood, you could see fairies, faces of Green Men, dragons, and pixies. He had even thought to make holsters for my guns and knives in the headboard. It was a bitch to make the bed, but making my bed only happened when I washed my sheets. Since this was something I was rarely home to do, Trevor ended up making my bed most of the time.

He had made the bookshelves in my library as well, but with a different theme. That was part of the reason it was taking so long, every theme required a different thought process. The library was themed with Medieval Russia. My bookcases had onion domes on them. The redeeming point was that they weren't kaleidoscopically painted like Saint Basil's Cathedral in Moscow.

The spare room he had tackled had a dark Gothic theme that reminded me of Notre Dame. I wasn't sure what the plans were for the living room. He just assured me that they were massive and I'd love them. I was hoping he was right since I had handed over almost a month's worth of pay for his design necessities.

Of course, I had made more in the last six months as a member of the Marshals than I had in the previous ten years combined. I had reassigned my trust fund to my nieces and nephews and was adding five percent of my monthly income to it. I was making well into six figures a year now, Nyleena kept reassuring me that I could splurge a little on the house.

"Well, are you ready?" Gabriel asked staring at the vacant room. Not only were the walls bare, but so was the floor and it lacked furniture. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in my dining room, bedroom or library when I was home.

"No, I was told we were going to Alaska and I do not have a parka."

"You'll get used to it in a few days or we'll solve the case before that becomes necessary," Xavier smiled. I had learned he was a hopeless optimist.