The letter was burning a hole in my pocket. I sat back and told myself to relax. As the city streets whizzed by, I tried looking out the window to focus my thoughts elsewhere, but no matter what I did I couldn't stop thinking about my sister Autumn. In the end, I gave up, and I pulled the letter out one more time to read it. Dear Lavannah. Miami gets even more wonderful every day that I spend here. From the beautiful coasts of South Beach to the spectacular night clubs, I have found my piece of heaven on earth. And I have made such amazing friends here. Recently I met the most wonderful man. He treats me like a queen and I have never been so happy in my life. He's in a band, too! The most brilliant band in Miami. I am to meet him at the club tonight (that is where we met and it is such a fantastic place. If you come to visit I will take you there) and I am nervous but excited at the same time. I have enclosed a photo of him so you can see just how devilishly handsome he is. I wish that you would consider leaving boring Boston at least long enough to spend a few days with me here. Everything is so different in Miami. Please say you'll come. I miss you. Love, Autumn Refolding the letter, I tried to hold back my tears but they came anyway. "Oh Autumn," I thought, "why did you ever have to leave Boston" But I knew the answer. My younger sister Autumn had always had an impetuous streak to her and a wildness that no amount of growth or maturity could dispel. She and I had been close growing up. She had been a bit of a social outcast in our hometown right outside of Boston. Whereas I had breezed through high and gone on to earn a bachelor's degree in marketing, Autumn had struggled her way through high school and opted not to go to college. She was an artist of considerable talent, and in the end the art galleries and pop culture of Miami had drawn her like a magnet. She left Boston, much to my displeasure. I did not try to stop her from going, though I had felt a forebodingness in the pit of my stomach that couldn't be explained when she told she was moving. And now she was missing. For the first several months after Autumn had moved she had kept in constant contact with me via letters sent through the mail. She didn't have a cell phone or a computer, and she claimed that she liked sitting down to write letters, that it felt more intimate somehow. But the letters had stopped suddenly one day, throwing me into a state of panic. I felt that something terrible had happened to my sister. Without hesitation, I left my job at the marketing firm indefinitely and taken the first flight to Miami that I could arrange. I had almost no information to go on as far as how to find Autumn. All I had was the letter in my pocket, which was the most recent one she had sent me (with no return address) and the photograph she had enclosed with it. The photograph. I pulled it out and stared at it for the millionth time that day. This most recent letter was the first letter Autumn had sent me that mentioned this mysterious new boyfriend in the photograph. To say that he was attractive was an understatement. He had medium length long black hair, perfectly straight and immaculate. His skin was rather pale, but he had a seductive quality in his eyes that drew you in and kept you from being able to look away. He was tall and slender, dressed primarily in black, with a flowing velvet jacket. He wore black eyeliner in the photo, with perhaps a hint of mascara. I had no idea what his name was, but I knew that I had to find him. He was the only link I had to my sister and her disappearance. I knew from Autumn's letter that he played in a band and that Autumn had met him in a club. It wasn't much, but I intended to scour every club in Miami until I found him. Upon arriving in Miami, I had quickly checked into a hotel in South Beach, and then donned a simple long black dress for my first night out on the town. Clubbing wasn't exactly what I did for fun on my nights off in Boston, but I figured I would at least sort of fit in with the club crowd in basic black. I knew that Autumn preferred the darker, more Gothic type of crowd, and that narrowed my list of places to check out somewhat. I had done some research on the Internet before leaving the hotel, and at present I was in a cab on my way toward downtown Miami with a list of addresses to check out. Every mile brought me closer to Autumn, and yet every second my apprehension grew. I just couldn't shaken off the feeling that some terrible fate had befallen my little sister. The cabby dropped me off in front of the first address on my list, a shady looking place in the heart of downtown Miami called "The Snake's Den. " Pausing out side, I stopped to study the pierced, tattooed kids coming in and out of the club. Hesitant to enter, I took a moment to wonder what exactly I, the astute business woman from Boston, was doing outside of a Goth club in downtown Miami. But then I thought of Autumn, with her innocent smile and her infectious charm and laughter, and I slowly summoned up the courage to walk into the club. Loud ambient industrial music assaulted me as I entered the crowded venue. Looking around, I made a quick mental note of the layout of the place. There was a bar in the middle of the place, and a stage at the far end of the room, currently empty. A DJ was spinning music for the dancers displaying their moves on the floor in front of the stage. Neon lights kept the floor lit, while leaving the rest of the club dark and mysterious. The atmosphere was stuffy and hot, and I resolved to find out what I could and get out of there as soon as I possible. Slowly, I maneuvered my way over to the bar and stood there looking around while I waited for the bartender to notice me. I kept a close lookout for anyone resembling the man in the picture Autumn had sent me. A bunch of twenty-something kids in dark clothing caught my eye, but a brief glance was enough to confirm that they were not my little sister or her mystery man. "What can I get cha" the bartender asked, coming over and laying a square napkin down on the bar in front of me. I smiled at him. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. Two someones really. Um, the guy, I don't know his name. But he is in a band, and here, I have a photo. " I handed the bartender the photo of Autumn's love interest. "Also, I'm looking for a girl with light brown hair, early 20s---" "Lady," the bartender cut me off. He glanced down at the photo without taking it from me. "I see a million girls like that every night here. I can't keep track of all of them. I haven't seen anyone like that guy in the picture though. " He shrugged. Maybe ask some of the people on the dance floor. " I thanked him and walked away from the bar. Now the hard part. Taking a deep breath, I strode out onto the dance floor. "Hey, watch where you're going. " I tried to maneuver my way around the dancers as best as possible but it was difficult in such a tight space and I was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic. I did manage to stop a few people, though, and the ones who actually took the time to acknowledge me and look at the photo were unhelpful. No one was able to give me any information on Autumn or the man in the photo. Feeling a little discouraged, I crossed The Snake's Den off my list of clubs and left in search of the next address I had written down. As fate would have it, my search seemed to be destined for failure. By the end of the night I was exhausted and as clueless as I had been before coming to Miami. I must have gone to at least ten clubs in the past six hours, but I hadn't found a single clue as to the whereabouts of my sister or her lover. Unfortunately, that was exactly how the next two nights went as well. I searched clubs in South Beach the second night and Miami beach the third, all to no avail. I met many rude and uncooperative people during my inquiries, and many sympatric ones as well, but no one who had seen or heard of Autumn or her gorgeous boyfriend. And so it was that by the end of the third night I found myself slightly lost and completely hopeless on a deserted street corner in Miami beach. A slight drizzle had begun to fall and I was beginning to give up on ever finding out what had happened to Autumn. Letting my doubts take over and wondering why I had even gone to Miami in the first place, I took out Miamiy cell phone and called a cab to take me back to the hotel. I was without a single clue and I had come to the conclusion that is was time to give up and go back home. In the morning I would fly back to Boston. Hanging up the phone, I realized that it would be several minutes before the cab arrived, and the drizzle was starting to turn to full blown rain, so I thought I had best find a place to hole up for a few minutes out of the rain. I pulled my light jacket tighter around myself, and took a look around. To my right was a black, foreboding looking building. It appeared to be yet another Goth club. Its facade was entirely comprised of black marble. Etched into the marble above the doors was the word "OBSIDIAN. " I shivered, and not entirely from the rain. The building gave me the creeps. I continued looking, though it didn't matter. There were no other places around that would open at such a late hour. And the rain wasn't letting up. So, sighing, I shrugged off my feelings of unease and told myself it couldn't be any worse than the dozens of other clubs I had been to over the past few days. But Obsidian was different, and I knew that from the moment I stepped inside its doors. The club was decorated in a mixture of black and dark reds. There was a bar along the right hand side of the room, and a huge stage at the far end. It was definitely one of the biggest clubs I had been to, and the stage was without a doubt one of the nicest I had seen. It was clear that whoever managed the establishment had taste as well as money. There was a heavy Goth-electronic band playing on the stage when I entered. Along the left hand side of the room was a lounge area with red velvet couches and black marble tables. The middle of the room was comprised entirely of a large dance floor, and though the club seemed to have quite a few patrons, it was not stuffy or overly crowded like most of the other places I had been to. Overall, it gave off a sense of mystery, yet it had a strange welcoming quality to it as well. I found myself smiling without realizing it. I think I rather liked the place. Eyeing the people obviously enjoying the band on stage, I walked slowly over to the bar and sat down on an empty stool, next to a young dark haired girl in a black corset top and plaid skirt . When the bartender came over with the usual white napkin square, I requested a glass of water. By that point I had given up on asking about my sister or the photograph. I noticed that the pretty dark haired girl in sitting next to me was glancing my way, and I smiled at her. "I am Levannah," I said, offering my hand. She didn't move to take it. "You haven't been here before," she said, overtly, and rather rudely staring at me. I kept my smile, trying to be nice. "Actually, I'm only in town for a few days. I'm from Boston. " The dark haired girl didn't smile back. Instead she sipped her drink slowly without taking her eyes from me
storage shed plans 8x12. "So why are you here" she asked, "What's your story" I laughed a little. "Well, I don't really have story," I said, taking my water from the bartender and thanking him politely. "I lead a pretty boring life. " "Everyone at Obsidian has a story," the girl said, frowning. "Well, actually. . . " I debated showing her the photograph and decided to give it one last shot. "I came here looking for my sister. She moved to Miami several months ago. At first, she wrote to me almost every day, but then a couple of weeks ago her letters stopped coming. I came to Miami to try and find her. I have a photograph of a man she was seeing. I've been trying to find him, because I think he could lead me to my sister. All I know is that he is in a band and that he met my sister in a club. But it seems like I've been to every club in this city and so far I haven't had any luck finding the guy. He's pretty elusive. " "I know just about everyone who comes in here," the girl said, interested for the first time since our conversation began, as I handed her the picture. She took it and suddenly the look on her face changed to one of startlement. "Look, do yourself a favor and forget you ever saw this picture," she said handing the photograph back to me and rising to leave. "Tear it up, burn it, but don't go flashing it around, especially not around here. You might wind up in the middle of something you don't want to be in. " I was slightly taken aback by her words, but filled with hope at the same time. "No, please," I said. "If you know him, you have to help me. My sister is missing. I have reason to believe that the man in this picture knows where she is. If you know anything that can help me find him or her. . . " The girl kept walking away. "Autumn is dead. Leave it at that and go home. " She turned back with a sardonic smile. "Besides, if that man wants to be seen, I'm sure he will find you. Later. " And she strode off into the crowd without another word. I sat for a moment in stunned silence. I hadn't mentioned Autumn's name to her. She had to have known her. Finally, I had found a clue. But. . . she had said Autumn was dead. The sudden appearance of a stranger next to me startled me from my thoughts. "Well now it would seem you've just stumbled into a hornets nest. Tell me, my dear, just how much do you know about the man in that photograph you are clinging to desperately to" The stranger pointed at the picture of Autumn's lover that I was still clutching in my hand. He was of average height with a slightly husky build. His short reddish brown hair looked shaggy and unkept and his brown trench coat made him look extremely out of place in the sea of black clad club goers. Still, his demeanor was personable and he had charm. In a shady sort of way. "What do you want" I asked, as he sat down on the bar stool beside me that the rude dark haired girl had vacated. "Do you know him" "The man in the picture Why, how could I not Magnus Thorne. As dangerous a man as I have ever known. He is the front man for the band Bella Costa. And the owner of this club. Why do you search for him" He leaned closer, intent on what I had to say. I found myself nervous and had a hard time answering his questions. "He was seeing my sister, and she disappeared, and. . . " Suddenly the dark haired girl's words came back to me. "Autumn is dead. " I was too choked up to continue. No matter how hard I tried not to cry, the tears would not be held back. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, smearing mascara and eyeliner, and not caring. The stranger however, ignored my sudden emotional outburst. He pressed me for more information. "So what do you know about Magnus" "Next to nothing," I stammered, trying to get control of myself again. "I've gone all over Miami looking for him. I only know that he is in a band, and he met my sister in a club. " The stranger paused for a second. When he spoke again, it was in a hushed tone. "We are encroaching on dangerous territory here. Come to my place and we can talk in peace. " His overtness brought me quickly back to my senses. I had never had a man come on to me in a bar before, and I was extremely leery about this particular man. I didn't want to follow him anywhere. He must have sensed my hesitation, and he seemed slightly irritated by it, as if he was used to getting what he wanted. "Here. " He held a business card out to me. "When you really want to find out what happened to your sister, and you want to know more about Magnus, come and see me. " "Thanks," I muttered, looking at the card. Ersa Cohen was the name on it, and the address was in Coral Gables. I stuffed the card into my pocket, feeling the sudden urge to to leave and longing for a hot shower and a soft bed. "I should get going now. " The stranger just smiled at me, and I stood up and went out into the rainy night to catch my cab. Of course I didn't go home to Boston the next morning. I couldn't leave without knowing for sure what had happened to Autumn. And I couldn't get Club Obsidian out of my head. Something about the dark mystery of the place seemed to draw me to it. I wondered what was so secretive about the man Ersa had referred to as Magnus. I thought about going to Ersa to find out - but why not go straight to the source If Obsidian belonged to Magnus, wasn't he bound to show up there at some point So I would stake the place out. It seemed like a safe enough plan. And I have to admit that the thought of meeting Magnus face to face sent a chill through my body that wasn't at all unpleasant. Back to Club Obsidian I would go. Every night for the next week I went to Obsidian and tried to blend in, even though it meant going shopping for a new wardrobe of black clothing. I stuck to the shadows as best I could and tried not to draw attention to myself. The people who frequented the club (and it seemed like there was a pretty regular crowd of the same people night after night) were an elusive bunch and I found the little information I could gain from eavesdropping to be, for the most part, petty and inconsequential. I did learn, however, that (as Ersa had said) Magnus was the singer for a local goth band called Bella Costa and that he did indeed own Obsidian. Apparently Bella Costa had a fairly large fan base in Miami and they frequently played at Obsidian. On the first night I saw the lead guitarist and the drummer from Bella Costa come and go, but not Magnus. I also learned that the name of the dark haired girl I had talked to the night before was Mauve, and that she had some connection to Magnus. I wasn't sure exactly how they were tied together, but I was determined to find out. Obsidian was like a whole separate world to me, so vastly unconnected to the city I grew up in, even to the city outside of its walls. It was a dark and forbidden thing, like something I could look at but never touch. It stirred something inside of me, something almost sexial in nature that I hadn't allowed myself to explore before. I don't know if it was the music, the people, the atmosphere or all of it combined, but night after night the club drew me back, never satisfied, and always wanting more. It wasn't until my third night of staking out Obsidian that I saw the living legend himself for the first time. Magnus. He was a mesmerizing sight, and as he walked into the room, all eyes were on him. I had been watching a mediocre hardcore band on the stage and wondering if I should call it a night when Magnus appeared from a doorway I hadn't noticed before, at the end of a small hallway on the right side of the stage. He was unmistakable as he strode onto the dance floor