Simon helped Loreley escape from the vortex.
Loreley, Episode 7: Claire
“Senpai, I’m so sorry!” She says.
Simon checks his antique pocket watch.
“I suppose you don’t have any other clothes?”
“What’s wrong with my clothes? They’re comfortable.”
“Yeah. Ok. Just put the book back in my bag. The car’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Loreley turns her head as she reaches, shaking, for the book.
She quickly wraps it in the IKEA bag and shoves it into Simon’s satchel.
“The wand! I know! Jeez!”
They step out into the cool night air of the parking lot just as a large black car with tinted windows pulls up.
“This looks like us.”
“Where we going, Senpai?”
“Loreley, I know this is going to be hard for you, but please, for the love of Christ, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to until we’re a safe distance from the meeting. Please. Promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Gotcha.”
“Loreley. I’m serious.”
The back door opens automatically. Simon slides in and Loreley slides in after him and sits a little too close.
Simon feels her trembling a little.
The screen between them and the driver’s seat is black, opaque.
Loreley whispers “Where are we going, Senpai?”
Simon rolls his eyes and closes them.
When he opens them again Loreley is asleep, drooling into the shoulder of his trench coat.
Glaring city lights glide past in mesmerizing silence.
The car turns down an alley. As it approaches the end of the alley a large dumpster rolls aside and a section of the wall folds open onto a ramp.
Simon elbows Loreley gently awake. She looks confused. He puts his finger to his lips. She scowls.
The car spirals down a ramp, the rumble of the wall grinding back into place above them barely audible.
The car parks between a vintage roadster and a very new Rolls Royce.
The door opens automatically. Simon grabs his bag, slides out, stretches. Loreley stumbles out and looks around the spacious garage in the gloom.
An elevator door opens seamlessly in one of the blank warehouse-like walls.
The elevator is simple, clean and modern. There are no buttons or displays of any kind and the lighting source is completely hidden.
Loreley looks up at the place above the door where the display would be and swallows in a dry mouth as her ears pop from the rapid change in air pressure.
The door opens on a spacious penthouse living room. A woman in a cocktail dress is silhouetted against the skyline at the bar counter at the far end of the room.
She is pouring three glasses of bourbon from a decanter into cut crystal glasses on a silver tray.
“Come in. Make yourselves comfortable.” She says and carries the drink laden tray to a large, low, antique Chinese table with a leather sofa on one side of it, and a very comfortable looking chair on the other.
“Claire! You look-” Simon says.
She cuts him off with the arching of an eyebrow and passes Loreley a drink without taking her eyes off of Simon.
“You look filthy. No surprise there. But this one. This one has something, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah. She has something alright.”
“Well. Let’s see it.”
Simon passes her his bag.
“IKEA,” she says, taking out the book. “Classy.”