Scorch

by Nikki Rae

  “No.” She couldn’t offer me this. Not now, and not moving forward. Running had always been instinctual to me, and I didn’t need more reinforcement as I tried to go against it. “Please don’t ask me that again.”

  It came out as a whisper, yet it sounded more like I was begging.

  Nodding once to herself, Zoe finally started eating, dropping the subject altogether. She finished as I continued to nurse my tea, abandoning any notion of food.

  “Not hungry?” she asked.

  Shaking my head, I pushed the tray towards her.

  “Tell you what,” she said, standing with our trash. “You’ll probably want something to eat a little later. We could check out the gift shop over there for things we can pack in our carry-ons.”

  She gestured to the store across the way, which had even more people inside than the front of the coffee place.

  “Would it be okay if I stayed here?” I asked, legs wobbling at the idea of walking into that place, let alone choosing more items I wouldn’t end up eating.

  Zoe glanced from me to the gift shop and back. “You won’t move from this spot?”

  Unzipping my bag, I pulled out the lone book I’d packed. “I’ll keep myself busy.”

  Although she still looked unsure, she nodded once, turning towards the garbage cans. “I won’t be more than ten minutes.”

  Then she left, and I watched her weave around other travelers as she crossed the shiny floor to her destination.

  I expected to be nervous by myself, but once I started reading, I stopped concentrating on my surroundings enough to relax just a fraction. Ana Karenina wasn’t exactly a practical choice, but the thick leather-bound copy I’d found at the cabin had called to me and it was long enough to last my journey.

  Not that I could pay much attention to the story, too focused on the sounds around me, the way I sat with my legs tucked under the booth. I flinched at the sound of footsteps as a customer sat at the table to my right.

  Without looking in their direction, I made a show of gazing across to the gift shop where Zoe had momentarily slipped out of sight. From my peripheral vision, I watched the woman drink her coffee, absently scrolling through her phone the way I’d seen many Mainworlders distract themselves. I determined that like all the others here, she was no threat. At most, people outside the Order had a cursory knowledge of its practices, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was staring at me like they saw who I really was. Maybe I was just as rotten on the outside now, visible to the naked eye.

  Burying my nose further into the book, I tried to imagine I was home, reading by the window in Master Lyon’s study, curled up in his chair. My fingers cramped around the pages as I fought thinking of all we’d done together in that room.

  As I began to wonder whether it still existed after the fire at Lyon Estate, I was jostled from my thoughts.

  “Excuse me.”

  The person in the booth across from me was trying to get someone’s attention, but I didn’t react, reasoning she could be on the phone or speaking to an employee. However, when I offered no response, she leaned out of her seat, closing the gap between us so much that I cowered towards the wall. My book flopped onto the table when I saw the badge she held. A shield with symbols I didn’t understand, an emblem of the Mainworld’s authority figures. It was the same as the one the officer wore on his shirt this morning.

  I zipped up my bag, preparing to launch out of my seat when she stood.

  “Odette Lyon sent me.”

  Staring up at the woman, I took in her appearance. She wore dark curly hair tied low, a grey business suit with heels. She didn’t appear as intimidating as the others, but I wasn’t sure that meant anything.

  My legs couldn’t support my weight and I crashed back into the booth. She slid in opposite me, keeping a respectable distance.

  “Listen,” she said, glancing over her shoulder for Zoe, no doubt. “I’m aware of your story, and she contacted me shortly after Wolf Manor mysteriously burned to the ground.”

  My eyes snapped directly to hers, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

  Seeing that I wanted to hear what she had to say, the woman went on. My name is Elisa Santos.” I noted that like her associates, she didn’t try to shake my hand, but it seemed to be more about not wanting to scare me away. “You’re called Fawn, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “I apologize for my partner barging in on your privacy this morning. He did so without my clearance. My intention is only to bring the Order to justice. Odette and our organization have been working together while she orchestrates with her group. We both want this man dead, and we believe you can help us with that goal.”

  “How did you find us?” It was all I could say.

  “Mrs. Lyon asked me to contact you specifically if she didn’t touch base with us after landing in Germany.” Tucking her badge back into her jeans, she held her coffee cup between her hands. “We were told to check all flights paths she may have taken, and one of my men spotted you here. We waited for your handler to leave so we could approach.”

  I sat up straighter, feet firmly on the floor as my nausea returned in full force. Santos followed my gaze as it wandered towards the gift shop. Similar to the checkout line here, where Zoey waited with a basket of items moved at a slow pace. There were three people ahead of her, and she was busy on her phone. Unlike the coffee place, there were multiple registers, ringing up customers quickly and then sending them on their way.

  When I looked at the detective, she was standing. From her pocket, she produced a white card, which she slid across the table. The same kind the man in the black jacket had tried to give Marius.

  “That is my personal number on the back. I answer any time, day or night. If you need a way out, or if you want to do things our way, call me.”

  I opened my mouth, but she’d already turned, strolling out and heading in the direction of the escalators. Through the window facing the front, I watched a man in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt follow her—he had to be the one who’d told her my whereabouts. Then they both disappeared.

  Not knowing what else to do, I slipped the card into my book and stowed it in my pack like the deeper I buried it, the less I had to analyze what had just happened.

  Nine

  The flight from LAX to Berlin would take at least eleven hours, and that wasn’t considering the strategic layovers along the way. There were always three to four hours between flights as well, so the timeframe meant virtually nothing.

  Until we deplaned later that day somewhere in Texas, my mind was bombarded by the many thoughts I’d beaten into submission. Despite the distractions of the altitude and nausea, not even I could pretend nothing had changed.

  At my feet, my backpack sat dormant. I’d been too afraid I’d be tempted to read the card when Zoe was right beside me against the window. She’d offered me the aisle seat, realizing I liked to always have a door in view, even if I couldn’t open it.

  Our world was so contained that it wasn’t uncommon for Members to distrust those who were entrenched in the corruption of everyday life. Wars, disease, death; horrible things happened there, and they did nothing to change a lot of it—that was doctrine. Law.

  I had the added pressure of freeing the many innocents while indebting and endangering myself for one group or another. Regardless of what side we were on, I’d killed people. The Mainworld abided by its own laws, and under them, House Chimera would crumble alongside House Wolf.

  My hands shook as Zoe handed me the metal water bottle she’d bought at the giftshop—it was more of a jug made for a gallon of liquid, and I sipped from it the entire flight and still had most of it left. She carried it for me until we sat down at our next gate.

  “Feeling okay?” She asked once I’d gulped down a good amount.

  I hadn’t thought it was possible to be more aware of the people around me, but I was forced to stare at each passerby, anyone who could be watching. It made me dizzy, trying to
pinpoint who was going where, whether they were following us. A new wave of tremors wracked my body as I screwed the lid back on. “I don’t know.”

  Zoe looked at me a moment before digging in her bag. “You know, I get real nervous when I fly sometimes too, and this one’s a long one.” Unzipping a pouch, she popped open a bottle of pills. After taking one herself, swigging from her own giant bottle, she offered one to me. “It just helps you relax.”

  My hand froze halfway in the air. “You won’t leave me again?”

  She patted the back of my seat, crossing her legs as she watched the television on the wall broadcasting images of oceans and mountains. “You’re stuck with me for the duration.”

  It was her duty to keep me safe, and we wouldn’t reach our next destination until the pill wore off.

  The door to the platform opened and an attendant stepped out, wearing his red white and blue uniform. Behind his podium, he announced that first class was boarding.

  I swallowed the pill as we stood, and together we made our way to our seats with the rest of the passengers. Once she’d stowed our bags above us, Zoe and I settled into our seats and I watched as the rest boarded. For the most part, no one even looked at me, and when they did they offered a polite, embarrassed smile for being caught staring.

  The pill Zoe had given me worked fast, and after around fifteen minutes, my worries fell into the background and my eyes closed without much resistance. The drug made it so I could lock away every unpleasant thing. The Order, The Mainworld, the Rapunzel Project; Wolves and Chimeras and monsters that came back from the dead. None of these things existed for now.

  Without realizing, I dozed off, chin against my shoulder. No dreams or nightmares. Before Master Lyon, I had been able to shut off my mind just like this. He’d made me feel. Live. And now I had to kill that girl he’d tended and watched grow.

  I didn’t wake again until the voice of the attendant came over the intercom to tell us we were landing in Seattle. Still groggy, my stomach lurched as we descended onto the landing strip. My head became light, ears popping due to the rapid change. It seemed to take an eternity before the door finally opened, and I was among the first to rush out.

  As the other passengers disembarked, I found the closest bathroom and shut myself in a stall. I had no recollection of walking from the gate until I was kneeling in front of the toilet, wiping my mouth with tissue. I stumbled towards the sink to rinse my mouth, trying to keep my head down to avoid my reflection as other women flushed and washed up, oblivious.

  I felt slightly better, but I was still dazed, unsure of the ground beneath my feet. Zoe was right outside waiting for me, my backpack dangling from her finger. I took it from her without a word, hugging it to my chest to quell the chill engulfing my body.

  “You okay?” She raised one dark eyebrow.

  I nodded. “Don’t fly well.”

  My voice was hoarse, and a few specs of light flashed through my vision as I stared back at her.

  “Here,” she handed me more water. “I refilled it so it’s nice and cold.”

  With an expression that was too knowing to be a smile, she turned and I followed her through the departure area. Another security check later, she offered me the last available seat among rows of tired travelers. My vision cleared and tunneled; I had to shut my eyes and hang my head between my knees.

  “Listen,” she said, bending down but mercifully not touching me. “I have to make a call. You want me to see if there’s any kind of motion sickness medicine?”

  Throat dry, I attempted to swallow and it became a cough. “No,” I slurred, “you don’t

  ha—”

  “I’ll find some medicine.” She didn’t let me answer before she stood to leave my side, and the world tilted and spun around me, even with my eyes shut. She’d said she wouldn’t leave, and now she was abandoning me. Unable to follow her, I laid my head atop my backpack, willing everything to stop.

  Around me, people chatted with each other or on their phones, some getting up and leaving as announcements were made. With the false relaxation of the residual drugs, it was easy to let the sounds wash over me until it was nothing but static. I could have fallen asleep again—I wasn’t sure—but I opened my eyes when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  With or without the medicine, I was relieved Zoe had returned. As I picked up my head, which seemed too heavy for my neck, I could see her shadow behind my eyelids as she knelt beside my seat.

  “Time to go.”

  It wasn’t her voice. Not at all.

  The man above me wore a black shirt, rain jacket, and jeans tucked into the boots he wore in the greenhouse. His hazel eyes were dark, lips pursed and overly emphasizing the angles of his face. He’d trimmed his hair, which hung in loose, wavy strands behind his ears. The beard he usually kept neat had been shaved down to little more than a five-o-clock shadow, and despite knowing who this was and knowing what it meant that he was here, I reached out to cup his jaw.

  I was expecting anger—even a blank expression as he held back his temper. Instead, his eyes searched mine with concern, waiting for me to make the first move when I was paralyzed. Another departure was announced, freeing up the seat beside me as more people boarded. Elliot sat down in the vacant space, carefully removing his jacket before pulling my arms through the sleeves. My limbs were heavy as he zipped me up and laid the hood over my head. He stared into my eyes, and I couldn’t force them to focus.

  Vision blurred, I could still make out the sound of his sharp exhale, the hard swallow that came after. Lifting my backpack from my thighs, he asked, “Are these all your belongings?”

  He’d posed this question before, when he first bought me. I stared at the same faded blue bag that I’d kept with me since one of the younger girls had left it behind. The contents always changed because I couldn’t hold anything for long. All things in a lower’s life were temporary.

  Master Lyon found the water bottle at my feet and pointed to it. “Is this yours?”

  I had to blink a few times to keep my vision clear. I still couldn’t speak, but with a nod, he picked it up and opened the cap so I would drink some. Determining I couldn’t handle more than a few sips, I gave it back to him without a word.

  He threaded his fingers through mine and stood, helping me to my feet. I wanted to run, to find Zoe…

  Or did I?

  This morning I wouldn’t have turned back, but now, with his skin against mine, I wanted to go with him. I would have followed him into a burning building.

  I was dizzy as we walked, but he wrapped an arm around me as we headed towards the dusky rain outside. Somewhere, I knew what leaving meant, but I couldn’t bring myself to slow or stop. At a black Range Rover in the parking lot, he unlocked the doors and buckled me into the passenger’s seat.

  Against my will, my eyes closed for a while, and when I opened them, I watched as the city disappeared and gave way to rural homes with happy families gathering for dinner inside. Then there was nothing but open road hemmed in on both sides by farmland. When no other cars could be seen and it appeared we were alone on the stretch of highway, my Owner at last spoke.

  “You look awful. What’s happened?” Out of all the many things he could have said, I wasn’t anticipating this. “You were all right when we left Houston.”

  I didn’t understand what he meant, but then it clicked into place. He’d been on the plane with us. He’d sat nearby, watching my every move until the opportunity arose to steal me. We’d been so careful, yet my Owner had found out. Once again, we were back to where we’d started, and Odette and others would suffer because of our failure.

  “How…?” My head was heavy, impossible to hold up without leaning against something.

  The scenery passed too rapidly, dark branches of trees reflecting off the windows and doubling my vision. I gripped the armrests as my stomach lurched and I felt all the color drain from my face. A sound I didn’t recognize left my mouth, a cross between a wail and a choked sig
h.

  For the first time since we’d gotten in the car, he tore his eyes from the road to glance at me. I must have appeared bad enough for him to pull over, and as soon as the farms broke off into a section of dirt road, Master Lyon parked. Only the headlights illuminated the path, and he left the engine running as he unlocked the doors.

  I didn’t wait for permission to leave my seat, kneeling in a thicket of bushes and dead twigs to heave the water I’d just drunk. He was beside me before I saw him exit the car, trying to get me to look at him. Master Lyon was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him over the pounding in my head or my raspy breaths.

  I’d failed. I’d failed them all. It couldn’t be over. Not yet. Not this way.

  Standing straighter, I could make out the silhouette of his body. The rain had begun again and was cold as it soaked through my pants. I stepped back when he tried to touch me.

  “Fawn,” he said, bare face dripping, “get back in the car.”

  The very idea brought tears to my eyes, but I held them back so I could shake my head. Finally, I’d caught a glimpse of the hurt I’d caused behind his gaze. And when my Owner was hurt, he was angry, which often made him unpredictable. That made two of us.

  His head tilted slightly. “No?”

  But it was a restrained, weak version of the man I’d come to know.

  Master Lyon stepped towards me and again; I took a step back, legs wobbly. Halting, I watched as he clenched his jaw and slid the mask into place.

  “Have it your way, then.”

  As he lunged for me, I escaped his grasp. Without wasting time, I bolted towards the open driver’s side door. In his rush, Master Lyon had left the engine running with the keys in the ignition. I’d rounded the vehicle and had reached the steering wheel when he caught up to me. Arm around my waist, he tried to pull me back into the open, but I kicked until he released me.