by Jaclyn Roche
“Inquisitive. Good. That will help you when it’s time.”
“When it’s time for what?” Kali pressed forward, holding her head high and gaze locked with his. She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose when the blacksuit raised his weapon toward her.
The man in charge shifted his head in a way that motioned the blacksuit holster his weapon and move back from her. “I hear you’ve been causing trouble.”
“I see you’ve stolen a boatload of women,” Kali stopped just before him, arms at her side. Adrenaline raced through her.
“Touché.” He slid the screw into his pants pocket. He reached and brought the locket out from under her shirt where it lived between her breasts ever since she could recall. Even as a child, the gemstone locket sat there.
She fought the urge to snatch it from his hands as he examined the stone while the necklace was still around her neck. It was the only thing she had in this world besides her first name from her real family.
“I fear you have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you, and you know—as you say, ‘lots of things’—probably quite a bit about me.” She stared into his green eyes. Her head only slightly tilted, unlike her dreams where she would’ve had to be tiptoe and still recline to meet its—his—eyes. Olive just like the trees in a Greek orchard. She couldn’t forget those eyes which begged her nightly to save him. The same eyes before her, yet they were different. Harder. Cynical. Could eyes even be cynical?
“I have a remedy.” He dropped his hand from her and looked at her body. The corner of his mouth upturned. “Dinner. Tonight. You’ll be prepared and properly dressed. I will have my personal staff attend to it.”
“No, I will eat here in this cell or whatever one you’ve got for me. But I won’t eat with you.” His head snapped back.
“I don’t think you are in the position to deny me.” The hard angles of his face became shadowed.
“No.” Kali didn’t know what had gotten into her. This was her dream man before her or, at least, a carbon copy of him and she was saying no. This man could get her freed. Yet she couldn’t have dinner with him. Nothing about this place was normal, and dinner certainly wouldn’t be.
He frowned. “You eat with me or not at all.”
Her stomach grumbled. She wasn’t an idiot though she wished for another option, but there wasn’t a genie in her story. “How can I eat with a man who refuses to give his name?” The gurgling much louder this time. She wanted to curl up and hide at the giveaway.
“Seth, Seth Ngozi.” He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “At your service.”
Acting the gentleman, she knew he couldn’t be, there was an air of authority and arrogance but no chivalry. He acted as if he hadn’t just kidnapped her and transported her to goddess-knew-where and, as if, he couldn’t hear her stomach pleading for food.
“Get her proper clothes.” The snap of his voice sent the blacksuits scurrying to obey. “None. Not a single person attends to her except my personal valet and staff.” The door closed, leaving her full of unanswered questions.
2
As if he waited for his cue, a bald giant of a man waltzed into the room. A robe previously draped over his arm swung about on the breeze and slid onto her body. Before she could speak against it, she was bundled up, hair and all, with slippers slid onto her feet. The giant hurried her from the cargo hold with a gentle hand pressed upon her back. His demeanor told her that this was not the time for questions.
The valet guided her through the maze of halls about the ship until they wound up the stairs onto the deck. He seemed respected amongst the crew and blacksuits since everyone they encountered scattered in a hurry to be out of their way. Women disembarking from the ship shuffled along in lines—some in silence, others sobbing. One by one, they met with an officer in white who scanned the metal bracelets and announced what she presumed to be their status, “Elite Class, Learned. Undesirable Class, Jezebel. Mid-Class, Ornament.”
They reached the ramp and headed down to the wooden walkway. The two docks ran parallel to one another and between them the waterway was wide enough for a single container ship to nestle between. The other across from her held a single crane working on unloading the colorful containers off the stern of the ship, the end that jut into the gulf.
Kali halted as she reached where the wooden walk met the stone pathway. Her mouth fell agape as she took in her surroundings. They’d arrived at a beautiful tropical island full of lush jungle and palm trees. The tranquil, clear ocean lapped at the hull of the cargo ship, the gulf they were docked in was protected from the ocean and elements.
She cupped her hand over her eyes trying to see the end of the island, but couldn’t either way she looked. What she did notice was the guard towers along the beach and peppered within the jungle with armed tansuits and spotlights. Most towers had either a dirt bike or ATV she assumed they used to get around the Island.
The stone pathway wound its way to a heavily guarded complex. The only way in or out was to be buzzed through gate. The sprawling network of buildings contained a singular, centrally located, odd-shaped structure. The weathered concrete and steel walls gave the impression it was the first to be constructed here, seemingly built to be an exemplification of an MMA fighting cage.
“This way, m’dear.” The valet urged her forward toward the gates.
The towering man was as thick as a tree trunk and stood well over six feet tall. She wasn’t a short woman by far, and she still had to tilt her head to meet his brown gaze.
“You will do just fine here, Ms. Doe. You handled Master Ngozi perfectly. Let’s get you looked at in the clinic. Make sure you’re okay. That cut above your eye, oh, dear, I do hope that will not scar. Your voyage was long, and I imagine difficult.” His strong arms encased her and guided her toward the bustle of the only entrance in or out of the internal complex. “Welcome to the Octagon—named for its eight sides and hollow core. The Octo is seven stories tall and all rooms are located against the outside wall. They are accessible via an internal hall and network of stairs. Catwalks starting on the third floor that crisscross the courtyard that’s three miles in diameter. You’ll understand when we get inside. The heart houses a labyrinth as well as other delights we can discuss when it’s not so overwhelming.”
Kali reached up and rubbed at the scrape above her eye. She had almost forgotten about it with the day’s arrival. The storm a night ago had jarred her awake with alarms blaring. The whole cargo ship had rocked back and forth so hard tossing her about in her room, and she thought they would capsize with the water that seeped in through the door. Kali had held onto the bed, thankful it was bolted down, and prayed. Whether it was her prayers to the goddess or just plain luck, they had made it through, and she had arrived.
Moving along, they went past several guard towers to the entryway that looked as if it were the entrance to the gladiator’s Colosseum in Rome. The tansuits and blacksuits would be hard to sneak by if she ever got an opportunity and the gate looked nearly impossible to operate without the biometrics of two guards. Would any guard do, or did it need to be a specific pair? Wait? What? Had he just called him Master?
“Master Ngozi? Are you his valet or bitch? Does he own you, too? Where is he? And how do I get home?” The insult and questions flew out before Kali had thought much about it.
One arched eyebrow raised. The valet’s face aglow. “Perfect, you are. That fire within you burns bright. I’m whatever Master Ngozi needs me to be. Bodyguard, valet, murderer, friend, confident, and the list goes on, m’dear. No need to call me bitch, though I can be that and more. I’m Vassily. My family has served the Ngozi family since ancient times.” He paused as they moved through the tunnel-like passages into a modern elevator and pressed a button for the third floor labeled Clinic.
When the doors shut, the valet turned to her and continued, “I serve both brothers who are the last of the Ngozi family, Viktor and Seth. You’ve met Seth. Viktor, his older broth
er, is well... otherwise occupied. Here is an island, part of a toll, in the Pacific thought to be radioactive, thus inhabitable. You are now owned by the Minotaur Corporation, puppeteers of the world since... well... ancient times, I suppose. Had you not caused a ruckus on board the Pacific Express daily with your demands for answers, you would have sat through orientation and the onboarding process with the other female of your rank, Elite Class, Hallowed. We thought it best that you two be separated for now. No harm will come to you if follow the rules. The men who manhandled you back in Brooklyn are now dead. Think upon that whatever you will.” The words so matter of fact.
“Hallowed?” Kali asked. Viktor Ngozi? Could it be one and the same? Was he truly real and here? Save me. He needed her. But she couldn’t be all willy-nilly about it. She needed a plan. She needed more information. How could she inquire about him without giving her interest away?
“Yes, you are one of the few Hallowed. Virgins, we hope. Women who have the right DNA markers and alleles to be curse breakers. There are only thirteen women per generation with the potential to break the curse. You are the thirteenth we have found. None do. Although, you have the best match from the preliminary testing and the correct heritage. In fact, you look as if you had risen from the dead and could be the Goddess, herself.”
“Goddess? Risen from the dead.” Kali giggled. She needed that laugh more than she had known. Feeling the tension of the day release. They must have gotten her files from the institution. They were trying to make her doubt her mind, which was solid, right? Well, as solid as it could be with her nightly visits. “Okay, you had me going there for a minute. You know a lot about me. How did you get those files? How did you know about all of that?”
Kali smiled, remembering her childhood, refusing to go by her given name. Instead she demanded that her foster mother call her Isis, Goddess of Life and Magic. Lucy played along until Kali got older and still claimed she had risen from the dead to reclaim her throne and husband. Then Lucy had sought help. The help had landed Kali on a boatload of medications and lead to Lucy’s untimely death at Kali’s hands, leaving Kali alone with nothing and no one locked up in an institution. The only thing she had of her real family was her name, Kalissandra, and the gemstone locket around her neck. How that hadn’t been lost or stolen over the years Kali didn’t know. All she knew was that every time the necklace was misplaced or taken from her, which happened often in the hospital, it would reappear in her hand upon waking. No one understood how she snuck into the lockup to get it. After seeing on the security cameras, it couldn’t possibly be her. They tried and failed to find the person helping her.
Kali broke free from the valet’s grasp as they exited the elevator. She rushed to the rail of the inner hallway. Raising her face to the sun hidden behind a cloud, heard her silent plea, and a breeze blew it free of the covering. She smiled at the rays beating down on her face, filling her with hope and courage for whatever was ahead.
Kali stood stunned at the enormity of the structure. The entire octagon had only one purpose, it seemed. Be a wall for the labyrinth below with a singular walkway winding around the eight walls save for the intertwined catwalks above the courtyard that guards patrolled. The hallway had doors on one side, the rooms, Vassily had spoken of and the other side was open to view the interior. These were the gardens she had dreamed about.
Oh, look there, the weeping angel statue I painted and the fountain I drank from with Viktor over there. A colosseum for a minotaur, perhaps? Kali couldn’t help but wonder if she were correct, shivers ran up her spine.
Soft steps stopped behind her, patient while she soaked up the rays. She smirked. On any other man, the shoes he wore might have looked like clown shoes, but they suited this giant.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His hand swept wide and grand over the view of the courtyard gardens and maze.
“It is.” Kali agreed, her attention brought downward. Empty catwalks crisscrossed over the tall hedges, their entry points gated and locked. The brush moved below too precise to be the gust that made it in through the open dome. She narrowed her eyes following the movement.
“It’s said that ancient Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians banded together and sailed here to build this colosseum in honor of the one in Rome. They trapped Egyptian God Osiris down there where the altar sits in the middle. The soldiers ripped him to thirteen pieces, spreading his body parts over the earth, leaving just his heart for his love the Goddess Isis to find below, if she could. The Goddess Isis did more than find his heart. She found all the pieces and brought him back to life to give them an heir, Horus. Horus was an incredible monster, a minotaur like his father without the gift of being able to shift into a human form. The Greeks stole their son and took him off to the Isle of Crete. His fate as cruel as his father’s. Isis, broken-hearted over the loss of their son, cast a curse, but it cost her Osiris. His heart turned to stone and shattered into pieces, and he was sent to live in the underworld until his heart could be restored. Only the descendant, one reborn of Isis’s bloodline could break the curse and release the reborn Osiris to walk the earth able to shift between forms.” Vassily’s eyes fluttered, and he fanned himself with his hand. “Oh, the ancient stories I could regale you with, but there isn’t time now. We must move along. Perhaps later I will tell you more.”
He guided her away from the rail and down the ancient hall towards what looked like an entry point to another building. She hadn’t seen this from the boat since it was behind the structure.
“Now that you are acquainted with where and what ‘here’ is, I should also inform you that ‘here’ is home, and you won’t be returning to Brooklyn or anywhere else in the world.”
3
“This isn’t my home,” Kali’s words were a mere whisper upon the air.
“Not anymore, but once upon a time it was, m’dear. I suspect, as it hasn’t been confirmed yet—one more test is needed. But there could be no other explanation for your accommodations on the cargo ship as other Hallowed haven’t been treated with such pleasantry as you have. You were born here and stolen away by your mother.”
Kali’s eyes met his darken ones. “Pleasantry, my ass,” she bit out.
“I know, m’dear. And this truth is hard to hear. But Master Ngozi will tell you all about it over dinner this evening.” His reassuring tone didn’t reassure her at all.
Kali’s legs fumbled arriving at the doorway to the clinic. It looked so clean and sterile with a locked entry door similar one at the facility she had just been released from. Vassily must have sensed her hesitation as his arms tightened their hold on her. Kali’s throat constricted.
“But...” How could this be possible? Could there really be a minotaur she had to save in that labyrinth? And if her mother stole her away, why would she insist on her keeping her name and the necklace? Why didn’t they come for her? Especially when she was locked up? Where was he taking her? Panic roiled within her gut. All his answers did was create more questions. It was too much. Her head began to swim as dizziness took hold. The air became too heavy to breathe.
“Hush now. I’ve said too much. Let’s get that cut looked at. I don’t think it’ll scar, but it does need tending to.” The valet whisked her through the two sets of doors away from the rim of the octagon. The corridor attached the two structures, marrying the ancient and the modern. This area of the complex moved out from the ancient innards in a, and it was state-of-the-art and sleek in design with all the accommodations of modern life.
Before them, staff in scrubs moved about going in and out of the rooms as if it were just another busy clinic. But this wasn’t just another doctor’s office, each of the doors buzzed and clicked in the same way as the ones at the institution. She could hear the sobs of the women coming from the rooms their pleas for help going unanswered.
Kali’s legs shook so hard she thought they were going to give out. She needed to sit, but didn’t dare. She similarly felt as if she couldn’t stand. Panic constricted her throat
and laced it tight, making each breath labored and difficult. Her heart battered within her chest waging war against her rib cage. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No one would ever lock her in another room again. Her freedom ripped from her like she was torn from the street and locked into yet another cell. Transported against her will to this crazy place. No. No. She wouldn’t ever allow it again. Kali would never allow her fate to be left to the whims of yet another man. She’d rather face potential death at the mercy of a mythological creature that may or may not be real.
Turning on her heel, Kali sprinted for the sets of doors back to the labyrinth. Viktor would keep her safe against these monsters. He would protect her. She had to believe that, or she would lose her nerve. Kali kicked off the slippers, preferring to run barefoot rather than risk slipping and being caught. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Kali bolted through the interior set of doors that unlocked for a tansuit escorting a female captive into the clinic. She took advantage of his momentary confusion to slam her body into his side, knocking him off balance and pushing though into the hall between the sets of locking doors.
“Kalissandra? Stop!” Vassily’s voice called from behind her, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t stop.
Her feet slapped against the smooth floor until she reached the stone of the old building. Smashing her hand against the button, this set wouldn’t open for her. She had seen the guard go through without issue when they had been going to the clinic. He didn’t use a keycard or biometric scanner. She didn’t see those types of readers here either. She slapped her hand again on the red round button hovering just to the left of the door over and over, until tears streamed down her face. Kali turned back to the locked doors. Against the whitewashed walls, the fire extinguisher became her beacon of hope. She then noticed the nurses’ station could control the doorways dissolving the need to figure out what the key was and how to use it. She should have known better and gone there first. Kali clutched the extinguisher against her chest, pulling the tight pin free. Aiming it toward her pursuers, Kali began to squeeze the handle.
