Chaos and Moonlight (Order of the Nines Book 1) by A.D. Marrow Page A

old man. Not bad,” he whispered as he looked down at the street. The gravel crunched underneath his feet as he walked to the building access door. As he suspected, it was locked. He gripped the stripped metal knob, and with a firm twist, he pulled the front half of the casing off. His fingers worked quickly, busting through to the cement landing on the steps. The dead bolt directly above it was the next thing to go. Just like the inside half of the doorknob, it hit the floor with a metal
clack
after he punched it clean out of the frame. He easily nudged the door open with the toe of his boot and stepped over the ruined metal locks as he began to follow the service stairs down into the apartment building.
    As his boots pounded down the stairs, his heart began to race from more than just the physical exertion of moving his big body through the tight space in the stairwell. The anticipation that coursed through him made his feet move faster, quickly passing the eighth and the seventh floors. He was mere feet away from a woman who could save them all, and the thought of it sent his head reeling. If this worked out—if
she
worked out—his entire life could change. He could reclaim the existence he had once lost, but now with a heightened, more globalized sense of things.
    Whereas he was on the verge of giddy on the inside, his outside was all business, no play. No recess, strictly schoolwork. From the top of his head to the bottom of his size thirteen steel-toes, Taris was ready for anything that lay beyond the other side of the door that led from the stairwell to the hallway of the fifth floor.
    Taris pushed on the metal spring bar with one hand and nudged the door open. The plain brick walls and narrow concrete slabs of the roof access stairs gave way to brand-new Berber carpet and oatmeal-colored walls. He could see all four doors, separated by a wide corridor. Between the doors, aptly marked A, B, C, and D, were typical neutral Impressionist prints that one would expect to see in a doctor’s office or a bank. The decor could only be described as boring as shit with a touch of yawn. The hallway was brightly lit, the faux brass lantern wall sconces blazing. His eyes drew back to the floor, and he couldn’t stop the sneer from contorting his face.
    “Eh, carpet. Why does everyone have carpet?” Taris mumbled in disgust as he let the door shut slowly behind him. His boots led him slowly and, thanks to the padding underneath his feet, quietly to the apartment marked B.
    Taris stood in front of the door and took in a deep, calming breath. He shrugged his coat on tighter around his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, doing everything in the world he could to avoid knocking. He’d waited for this moment for centuries. The nervous anticipation was making his entire body shake. Now he knew how kids must feel on Christmas morning. The promise of something amazing was just behind that slab of wood. He brought his hand up to the door and knocked several times before the realization that he had no idea what to say set in.
    “Jesus, Taris, think first, would you?” he grumbled to himself as he stepped away from the door. “Okay, what to say? Um. ‘Hello, I’m a vampire.’ Fuck, that’s stupid. Eh. ‘Hi, my name is Taris, and I saw your interview, and I would like to hire you.’ Yeah, explain that one. ‘I’m eight hundred years old, and I need you to save a race of people who have been turned into horror movie villains and romance heroes from extinction.’” He chuckled. “Not likely.”
    Despite his lack of a plan, he lifted his hand and knocked again. There was still no answer. Taris pressed his ear to the door but could not hear any noise coming from inside, either.
    One noise he
could
hear was the elevator ascending its cables. He glanced behind him and saw that the little numbers across the top were quickly blinking closer to the floor he was on. If anyone saw him there, his entire mission was screwed. He