by India Kells
“This is Panem. If you need anything, just ask. You’re not to talk to anybody else. I hope that’s clear.”
Sam only nodded at the servant who was obviously a weasel in a dark suit, and yet another watchdog they’d need to be aware of.
Finch clapped his shoulder. “We’ll see each other at dinner. Go to Ellie and see that I wasn’t lying. We’ll speak more later.”
Phone in his hand, Finch disappeared inside.
“Sir, if you could follow me.”
Sam entered, leaving the cold behind for the warmth of the entrance hall. Everything gleamed in sickening luxury.
Panem led the way into the house, following a maze of hallways and rooms. Sam easily memorized them for later use, but the more he walked, the more he wanted to reach Ellie.
“You have the blue suite on the west wing for your personal use. Dinner is at eight and you need to dress properly. Mr. Finch requires it. In fact, every time you work with Mr. Finch, you should wear a suit. You will find your room properly furnished with everything you need, but if anything is missing, simply press one on the touchpad near the door.”
Sam didn’t answer when Panem opened the door and walked inside.
It led to a vast living room, cozier more than grand, but still bigger than what would be found in a usual apartment. The windows opened to the back of the house, showcasing a vast expanse of snow surrounded by a tall wall and the occasional guard making his rounds. Without another word, his father’s spy disappeared as he continued exploring.
A sliding door on the left went to a bathroom, and the only remaining door was on the right. Sam had his hand on the doorknob before he realized it.
The curtains were drawn, but with the light shining behind him, he could see Ellie huddled in a tight ball on the large bed.
“Ellie!” When he touched her arm, she shivered violently. “Ellie, it’s Sam. Please open your eyes and tell me you’re okay.”
It took a moment before she finally obeyed his request and turned to look at him. Her big blue eyes wide, she seemed to finally recognize him, a sob escaping her lips before she crawled to him. She felt so small in his embrace, but she was alive, and that fact alone brought him the first sense of peace in a long time.
In the half-second before she buried her face in his chest, Sam saw the scratches and dried blood on her face but decided to indulge a moment more.
Ellie wasn’t crying, just hugging him hard. It impressed him. How was she still holding herself together like that? A courageous heart, no doubt. Now that he held her, even in the messy situation he found himself, he’d gladly give her the time she needed before dragging her back to reality.
Slowly, her body relaxed, and she loosened her hold enough to look up. He could see light bruises on her face, but they weren’t as severe as he’d first feared.
“Where are we? Finch wouldn’t give me any answers and sent me here.”
Sam indulged in smoothing a few wild hairs away from her face before answering. Even if every cell in his body wanted to protect her, shield her as much as possible, he knew that knowledge could be key to getting her out of there alive. Keeping it as factual as possible, he explained how Lazarus had planted a bug in her bag so they could find her, the trap created by Finch, and his ultimatum. She listened silently, assimilating every bit of the details. He was amazed how this woman, one in which he’d sensed such despair, could keep such cool composure.
“Okay, okay.” Ellie took a deep breath before pushing away from him and getting off the bed. Her first few steps were wobbly when she went to switch on the lights.
In the stark light, he saw dust and blood stained her skin, her clothing had been shredded in certain spots, but it was the bluish marks from fingers at her throat that made him go to her.
“He hurt you, didn’t he? Finch put his hands on you.”
But when he reached for her, she caught his hand, cradled it in both of hers. “It’s nothing. Nothing compared to what he did to you.”
Despite the fact he couldn’t detect judgment or pity in the blue of her gaze, Sam felt too exposed. Not that he was surprised Finch had revealed such a thing to her. After all, his father was a manipulator, one who’d take advantage of every crack and every weakness he could find. Sam didn’t know if he would’ve revealed any of it to Ellie. Apart from Lazarus, who’d done some digging of his own, nobody else knew.
However, when he tried to pull his hand away, she held it tight. “You should escape now, Sam. You know what you’re doing, you know how to handle this type of situation. I’m sure you could escape. Even tonight.”
It was as if his brain couldn’t quite process what she was insinuating, or maybe he couldn’t truly believe it. “You can’t expect me to escape and leave you here. You heard me, if I do, he will kill you.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’ve suffered enough. No human being, no child, should have to endure what you did. I’m not worth the sacrifice. When you called me by mistake, on New Year’s, I was... I was going to jump into the river. I wanted to end my life, Sam. You can’t sacrifice your life for someone who doesn’t value her own.”
Hearing the words out loud, what he’d suspected all along, the broken mirror image of his own, all he could do was gather her into the shelter of his arms. How small she felt, but somehow, his small fairy was the strongest of them both.
“If I hadn’t made that mistake, we would’ve been floating side by side in that same river.”
Sam had feared his admission would bring back that untenable wave of pain, but instead, he only felt... stillness, or was it peace?
Before he could sort his thoughts, he felt her small body shake in his arms. Not certain how to deal with a flood of tears, Sam was stunned when Ellie pulled back and she was laughing.
Baffled, Sam was at a loss how to react until she cupped his cheeks, her mirth all but enveloping him. “Don’t you see what a pair we are? And we’re still alive. I think whoever is pulling the strings has the worst sense of humor.”
Her laughter bubbled up again, and Sam weirdly wanted to join in.
“It may be a sign, Sam.”
“A sign?”
“I don’t know much about your family. What I have gathered is that for years you and your brothers have tried to stop your father.”
“We failed.”
Ellie shook her head. “No, with each attempt, you chipped away at his power, at who he is. What if you could find the spot that once hit, would bring the entire building down? You wanted to break free of your father, maybe you have the chance. The man I met, who kidnapped me, isn’t worth your death, Sam.”
“How can you have such faith in who I am? You know nothing about me.”
“And you know nothing about me, Sam. And yet, you stopped that final jump because of me. We’re strangers who have lost their way yet found each other. I see honor in you, a protector of your brothers. You may have reached the end of your rope that night, but I believe your strength is still greater than your pain. I don’t care that I don’t know everything about you. I think that for the moment, staying alive is the only solution we have.”
It was true that the pain had gnawed at him all his life, but since Ellie’s voice had found a way in and pushed at it, he had to admit it became more and more manageable. There was even a glimmer of hope, whatever it meant.
“Why would you do that for me? Why would you want to help a virtual stranger?”
Her eyes shimmered, and for a moment he thought she’d speak but she shook her head. “Because it’s in me to help people. And I wouldn’t be too disappointed if when we save our own butts, we bring down a bad guy. That would start the new year with a bang, don’t you think?”
Even if he could sense the fear in her words, Sam was in awe of the woman before him and leaned down until their foreheads touched. “Are you certain? Jamieson Finch is the most dangerous man out there. He’ll try everything to make sure we turn against each other, manipulate us. Maybe what he told me is a complete l
ie. You have to know that, Ellie.”
A slight nod told him that she understood. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. Let’s kick this bad guy’s ass, once and for all. Together.”
Chapter Twelve
Appearance and attitude were everything. Not that Ellie had ever worried about that before. However, one thing her friend Madge had told her when she’d first started working at the call center was that the tone she used with the person who needed her could determine the outcome. If she showed doubt, the person wouldn’t be able to trust her. If she guided them with definite confidence, they’d follow her instructions and survive.
Now, she needed to exude power and control, not only so she could believe it herself, but to support Sam and fool Finch.
Ellie had to admit that dressing up was something she wasn’t at all familiar with. She did have a nice outfit or two at home for those events requiring one, but nothing as chic as what she’d discovered in the room.
Sam had told her Finch had provided anything they’d need. However, when she was kidnapped, Ellie didn’t know they’d be locked in a gilded cage.
As Sam took a shower in the other bathroom, leaving her the en-suite one, Ellie had some work to do. After a good scrub under the shower the first sight of her body in front of the mirror made her wince. After foraging through the endless rows of drawers, she found upscale make-up that would do to conceal most of the bruises. She did her best to apply her make-up without turning herself into a clown. Her black hair was, as usual, difficult to tame but she decided to use pomade. The final result was surprisingly nice, giving her a regale and more glacial elegance, intensified by her clear blue eyes.
The walk-in wardrobe was filled with so many clothes, it was dizzying. Not all of them fit her small frame, but she found an evening dress made of crushed, pale blue velvet that made her look like a lick of frost. With its off-the-shoulder design, the fabric covered enough of her damaged skin to give the impression that nothing had happened. She was tempted to don the highest heels she could find, but the fear of ruining her plan by stumbling made her decide on sparkly sandals with more sensible heels.
Ready for battle, Ellie pushed her shoulders back before joining Sam in the living room.
Standing by the large window, hands in his pockets, his gaze was lost in the night landscape before him, but when she stepped into the room, his eyes went to her.
The intensity of his silver gaze would’ve burned if she hadn’t been entranced at the way he looked. Clad in a black tuxedo that outlined his muscled body, his black hair was combed back, revealing his strong jaw. She was happy he hadn’t shaved, as she liked the stubble on him. He appeared both sophisticated and dangerous, turning her legs to jelly. Also, there was an air about him she hadn’t seen before, bringing an additional punch to the effect he already had on her.
At last, Ellie shook herself back to the present. “I hope I look all right. I’ve never dressed formally before.”
Sam came closer and she shivered under his sweeping gaze. “You’re perfection. A fairy queen about to reign over her court.”
Somehow, his poetic words alleviated her stress and struck a chord deep inside her chest. “I’m not queen, or a fairy. But you, in that light, look like a warrior prince ready to conquer the world, to defeat his enemies.”
It was subtle, but a veiled sadness passed in front of his eyes, along with a hesitation that made Ellie reach for him. “I’m sorry. I said that in admiration, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “You didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
Once again, he looked into her eyes, and it broke her to see so much pain and agony in this fierce man. “I come from a nomadic tribe, that lives deep in the desert. My mother was a princess there.” His gaze lost focus, as he lost himself in his memories. “I remember a little of that time. It was a simpler life, where there was time to admire the stars and lose ourselves in the fire’s flame at night.”
As he spoke, Ellie was, for a brief instant, transported to his world, to a time of innocence that should have stretched way longer for him.
“It sounds like a dream, a perfect world.”
Sam ran his fingers up her arms. “It was, but after... when I grew up, I had to leave. It felt like I didn’t belong anymore. But the outside world wasn’t welcoming to a young man who knew nothing of reality, or modernization.”
A slight quirk of his mouth encouraged her to pull on that thread, lighten his dark mood. “No internet? No coffee?”
Now he gave her a full grin that made her feel like the queen he’d described so beautifully. “I won’t tell you any of the stupid things I did when I set foot in a big city for the first time, but let’s just say that it was an interesting time. Everything moved fast after that, and I enlisted in the Army. My life unfolded in the most unexpected way.”
“Admit that your life without pizza was dull and empty.”
His laughter, deep and rich filled the room, and Ellie vowed to do everything in her power to make him laugh again. In that moment, she could see the man he could be without the heaviness that pulled him down.
His smiling mouth descended on hers and she tasted his joy, and the kiss soon heated.
Every other thought vanished from her head as he pressed against the entire length of her body. Immediately, all the hunger she still felt for him, everything she wanted to experience again after their first encounter, resurfaced.
Breathless, it was Sam who pulled away, breaking the kiss although his grip on her arms tightened a bit. “How could I lose all sense of time and place when you kiss me like that? Even when we are about to meet with the devil himself.”
Even if she had to agree, Ellie found it fascinating that everything felt so bright and vivid when he was close. If life was returning to him, it was the same for her, and she wasn’t about to let him forget that. “I can’t help it. You’re a great kisser.”
The remnant of his smile remained. “I smeared your lipstick.”
“Let’s say it was a team effort. One I hope we can repeat, Mr... Oh! I don’t know your last name. I’m guessing it’s not Finch.”
The pale mercury of his irises turned to steel. “I took my mother’s name. Sarkhan.”
Ellie repeated it and liked how it sounded. “Sam Sarkhan. The prince of kissers. How about I fix the make-up you so expertly messed, and we go dine with the devil? I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to find any way I can to free you from him. We might get lucky.”
His hand released her arms to cup her cheek. “I’m the trained soldier who should have looked after you, protected you, and stopped you from following me into this situation.”
Ellie only shook her head. “Let’s forget about all that. What ifs won’t do us any good. Not anymore.”
Chapter Thirteen
With each step she took, Ellie’s vision tunneled until it was like looking through a straw. The house was beautiful, richly decorated, but it was all for show. Looks were deceiving, and she suspected Finch used them to make a statement, in the same way he’d hurt her.
Sam walked by her side, adjusting his long stride to hers, a hand firmly placed at the small of her back, the contact transferring some of his strength that she sorely needed. Just before they arrived at the dining room, Ellie caught a glimpse of them in a row of mirrors, and almost lost her footing. Logically, she knew she was the one reflected, but it was still so unbelievable.
A man, who’d introduced himself as Panem, led the way and opened the door for them. The dining room was large, situated in a corner room full of windows that reflected the flickering lights of the candles. It was cozier than she expected, probably due to the fact that Finch presided at one end of it and had made sure their place settings were placed on either side of where he was sitting. The simple fact she wouldn’t be by Sam’s side for dinner nearly triggered a panic attack. Only remembering the words Sam had whispered to her just before they’d left the safe
ty of their room kept her going.
Finch rose as they approached, opening his arms in welcome. “Ah! Just in time.” As if they were long-time friends, the psycho went to kiss her. Ellie’s reaction would have been a snarl, but Sam’s touch was a reminder that they’d need to bide their time in order to live another day.
Her skin crawling, she allowed him to put his hands on her and kiss her cheek. “I must say, my dear, that you scrub up quite beautifully. You should do it all the time. It’s too bad about that hair of yours though. It’s way too short. Not more cuts for you, my dear. Maybe we should think about extensions.”
Just as she was about to tell him where he could shove those extensions, Finch ignored her contained fury to turn an adoring gaze to Sam. The men shook hands, but despite Sam’s friendly expression, it was clear he would have preferred to be as far from his father as he could get. Ellie didn’t know how he kept it together like that. If someone had repeatedly raped her as a child, she doubted her psyche would be able to deal with being face to face with her attacker again.
“Now, you must both be hungry. Panem, please fill our glasses.”
As Sam helped her to her seat, Finch’s right-hand-man-turned-butler moved sluggishly around the table pouring wine. Her instincts ordered her to remain on guard, as the servant always had eyes on her, sliding them over her body in a way that almost made her fidget with discomfort.
“A toast to new beginnings and new friends.”
Glad that her hands were steady enough to pick up the wine glass, she clanged it against her host’s glass, but only wet her lips. Her nerves were too fragile to add alcohol to the mix, and a clear brain was her most precious asset.
Finch led the dinner, speaking mostly about where he’d traveled, the people he’d met. None of it was of any interest to Ellie, and as he drank in moderation, he wasn’t about to slip with anything that would help her or Sam escape.
Many times Ellie refrained from looking at Sam, for fear that Finch would take it as a sign of weakness and exploit it against him. The various plates of food placed in front of her were delicious, but it was impossible to enjoy anything. Food was for survival, consumed only to keep her strength up.
