by Emily Shore
“Our lives just became much more complicated.” I gesture him over with one finger.
“Damn it to hell!” Force is not so concerned over propriety. Not that I can blame him.
Carved into this girl’s chest is a small but definable swan.
19
S e r a F i n a’ s S e c O n d S k I n
Serenity
After a week spent in limbo, I’m ready to tear out my hair. Sure, I have access to the rooftop pool and all the entertainment I desire including the private shows my father has arranged for us to enjoy each night during dinner. Of course, he’s also arranged suitors for every night, but I’ve turned each one down, coming up with a colorful way to do so every time. Unfortunately, neither he nor Luc have revealed any details about the murder despite my pressure. No, Luc has been avoiding me since our last encounter. Much like Bliss.
“Give her time,” my mother tells me as we eat our lunch together in my suite.
“You keep saying that, but I don’t think it will make any difference. How do you know Force hasn’t ruined her for good?”
“Bliss isn’t ruined,” Mom denies. “She’s retreated. She just needs to be reached. You can’t push or lure her out. She must come out in her own time and of her own accord.”
“But Kerrick—”
“Never forced me,” she interrupts. “He pursued, but he never pushed. He always waited.”
Sighing, I look down at my soup. “I’m not very good at waiting.”
“Yes, I’m keenly aware of that.”
I decide to redirect the topic. “It’s been a week. How are you doing without him?”
My mother takes a bite of her salad before staring out the window. She finally says, “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Why?”
“Leave it alone, Serenity.”
“Do you talk to her about it?”
My mother levels with me. “Don’t turn it into a competition. You are both my daughters.”
“We both need you,” I emphasize.
“In different ways,” my mother adds.
“Does she need you more?” I know I’m trying too hard, but there is something about Bliss my mother understands. Something about my mother Bliss understands. Shared commonalities I’m working too hard to comprehend.
Mom shakes her head. “She needs me less. And that is why I’m spending more time with her. Plus, I know how to delegate.”
We both smile, glancing up to my room where Sky has been hiding. During the day, he’ll disappear for hours here and there, but he always returns.
“Are you almost finished down there?” he calls in a faint voice. “I’m hungry.”
Rolling my eyes, I pick up the extra soup bowl I ordered. “You’re always hungry,” I announce just before heading for the stairs.
“Why don’t you ever come down?” I ask once I step inside the room. “There are no cameras in the entire suite.”
“I won’t risk it,” he replies, standing in the center of the room to welcome me. “Not with your father’s complete disregard for knocking. Thank you.” He nods when I present him with the soup.
Just then, I hear the door click open from downstairs. I signal Sky to return to the rafters while I grab a binder for my hair—the only excuse I can come up with for why I’d be upstairs but my mother downstairs.
“Good afternoon, Serenity,” Force says when I start heading down the staircase.
He doesn’t even acknowledge my mother. Good.
“Nice to see you occupying your time without complaint.”
He’s dressed casually today. If casual can ever define my father. With his sleeves rolled up, I can see his tattoos up close for the first time. The unicorn doesn’t surprise me. I assume the swan must be a more recent one. Both digital. The unicorn’s horn glows. She shakes her mane while the swan curves her neck and flutters her wings a few times. The Yin/Yang symbol must lie elsewhere. The stubble above his upper lip and around his chin has grown more. One point of fashion he rarely ever loses are the scarf scraps he keeps tied around his neck or the randomized rips in his clothing. He enjoys ripping apart people. Why shouldn’t his own clothes follow suit?
“You will report to Level 189’s Preparation Room promptly at five PM. Understood?”
“Will Lindy be there?”
Clearly pleased at my inquiry, Force folds his hands behind his back and smiles. “I can arrange it. She appeals to your palette?”
Shrugging, I take a sip of water as he reaches the side of the table. “Not as much as Queran, but—”
“Queran? Now that is a surprise. After your initial reaction, I thought I would have to drag you to your next interaction kicking and screaming.”
“He grows on you.” For the past week, I stayed for Bliss’s preparations. Every time, Queran created a new shape for me. I’ve begun to collect them. A worthy substitute to my absent snow globes.
“That he does.”
My father glances at my mother, and I almost hiss at the invasion.
“Force.”
I do hiss then but at my mother this time. “Mom!”
“No,” she snaps at me, scooting out of her chair. “I won’t have him ignoring me. I’m a human being, and I have my own rights to be seen and heard.”
“You don’t have to—” I stand to say, but she cuts off the air between us and slices my words in two.
“Step aside, Serenity.” We are on eye level with one another, but for the first time, my mother’s gray eyes become the warships I’ve observed but have never felt up until now. She’s never used them on me. Not once. “You can play your father with Bliss but not with me.”
Her words gut me. Like sharp canine incisors chopping my butterfly wings until they decorate the bottom of my stomach worse than wood shavings in a hamster cage. Shifting my weight, I bite down on my lower lip and then step to the side, obeying my mother.
“Force.”
I watch her turn to face him. It makes me cringe just to see him take a step toward her.
“How does it feel?” he wants to know. “My name on your tongue as opposed to director?”
“It doesn’t matter how anything feels. It only matters you listen and understand.”
He raises a fist to his chin before waving to her. “Go on.”
“You might plan everything down to the last detail like you always do, but I can make plans, too. Make no mistake, Force. If you hurt either of my daughters any more in any way, I will kill you. Even if it means I kill myself in the process, I won’t let you destroy my children.”
I let out the breath I’m holding. Her words have breathed life back into my butterflies, and they are clapping their wings, giving her a round of applause. Antennae are vibrating. They’re singing her praises straight into my heart.
“Hmm.” My father regards her for a moment. “It seems I did trade one addiction for another. Old habits die hard, but I’ll never be able to fulfill them again with you, will I? You’ve shed yourself, Serafina.” He raises a knowing finger. “Adopted a second skin, I’d say. Suppose the fault does lie with me.”
“You merely set the stage. I chose my own course,” my mother maintains. “I chose it the day I left the Temple. I chose it every day since. Whatever happens from now on, you can’t hurt me.”
“I believe you.” Another chaotic grin creases the corners of his mouth. “But I certainly would enjoy trying.”
My mother’s eyes fire their warship cannons. “And I would let you, provided you give up on your latest addiction.”
I hold my breath again. My butterflies have formed a division. A civil war erupting in my stomach. One side rationalizing for my mother’s decision because she is the parent and protector, and I’m the child. This is her right.
The other side is resilient. Think of what he will do to her, they tell me. She doesn’t deserve that. Not after all she’s done for you. Not after all she and Kerrick have done for other girls through the years.
Bliss doesn’t dese
rve it either.
No girl does.
She bears it better than others, doesn’t she? She can bear it more than my mother, right?
“No.” My father resolves the war for me. “Thank you for the offer, but I prefer my new addiction more. Besides, it affords me a legacy that will be fulfilled. Grooming a new director takes time after all.” His eyes flick to mine.
I pinch my lips together. “I will never—”
“Oh, Serenity, hush now. Even your mother doesn’t have faith in your ability to resist me. Why would she be so adamant to take your place?” He inclines a hand to Serafina. “Chalk it up to maternal instinct all you want. I believe I am the only one who isn’t pretending in this room. Have a good afternoon, ladies.”
Triumph in his smoldering eyes, Force departs.
I purse my lips before confronting my mother. “Is he right? You don’t trust me?”
“Serenity—”
“No.” Holding up a hand, I survey her. “It’s not just that. You trust her more, don’t you? You’re so scared I’m going to turn out like that monster?” I point to the door.
“It’s not what you think.” My mother walks toward me, then captures a few pieces of my hair. “There are parts of you I will never understand. I try not to let those parts concern me, but they do. I have no choice but to let them. It’s something mothers do.”
“You don’t act like Bliss’s mother.”
My mother nods, assent in her creasing eyes. “She won’t let me be her mother at this time. There is something between us. All I can do is nurture what little is there. I don’t mean to push you away. Please try to understand.”
I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
Sky
Once the beast is gone—I can come up with much more colorful terminology, but I’ll stick with that for now—Serenity rushes back up the stairs to meet me. I hear her footsteps on the marble. Smell her as soon as she opens the door.
Every time I see her, it gets harder.
But I’m still here whenever she needs me. Which is a lot. And that’s fine with me.
Gesturing to the still-warm soup bowl on the nightstand, I grab it and start eating. Famished from my earlier excursion through the Temple rafters, I don’t bother with a spoon. Just down all the contents of the bowl as quickly as I can. The action is not lost on Serenity.
Before she can say anything, I speak. “You know it’s really not fair you get to enjoy all the fun stuff. Mouthing off to your father. Oh, and your suitors. I would’ve given my right arm to see the fork launch.” I chuckle about the one suitor she told me about last night.
“But the fork didn’t even stick,” she whines. “Just bounced off his cheek. No, I think the night I dumped the ganache bowl over Director Vance’s head was the best.”
“The director from The Butterfly House?”
She chortles. “Now, he got a taste of what my butterflies can do that night.”
I pause to smile down at my girl. She chews on her lower lip, and I try to avoid staring when she does. Try to avoid staring at her gorgeous, supple mouth.
“What have you been up to today?” she asks.
I shrug. “The usual. Spying on my brother, eavesdropping on your father, checking on Bliss.”
Serenity’s rodent in the rafters. The one fortunate thing about the Temple: the rafters between levels are generous. Of course they have security, but thanks to Kerrick’s blueprints and my technological knowledge and Sanctuary gadgets, I’ve managed to stay under the radar. Getting in was planned months ago. Couldn’t come in as security since Force interviews them all. Instead, I came in as a temporary employee. Forging a synthetic skin barcode was the difficult part. Hiring a double and transferring the skin was the easy part.
She treads on my last statement. “How is she?”
I put the bowl down. “Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
I glance up at the ceiling and debate for a second. “Physically, she’s holding up well, partly in thanks to your mother’s healing. At night, she remains busy from what I can hear,” I clarify to make sure she understands I’m not watching any of her private interactions. I don’t stay for more than a minute or two. Part of me feels like lingering due to an almost-brotherly protection for Bliss, but she knows how to handle herself. Serenity does, too—just in a different way.
“What about Force or Luc?” she probes.
I give her the bare facts. “Luc is finalizing tonight’s display. Your father has increased his security, which makes it more difficult for me. They haven’t been able to determine where the murder took place or if it was a client or employee. Luc interrogated a suspect but concluded it was a dead end.”
“So, what now?”
Should’ve figured she wouldn’t let up. My persistent pest.
“Did you think it was going to happen overnight?”
She puts a hand on her hip, tilting her head to eye me. I mentally make a log of all the curse words I know. Doesn’t she realize how adorable she is when she does that? Her questions used to climb all over me when she was little. Even though I know she wants to ask them, Serenity adopts this patient pose. It takes her some effort, but it lets me know how serious she is. She realizes I’m not telling her something. And she wants to know.
Dropping my arms to the sides, I shift my weight, conflicted about whether to tell her. Hope is a fragile thing in the Temple.
Damn. I swear she did that just to stab me. Folding her hands together into that prim pose. Terrific. If only I could find a way to master that mechanism. After all, she’s held back on a few details herself. Something my brother undoubtedly pulled last week. Didn’t need to be there. He’s avoided me all this time, and when I’ve caught glimpses of his face through the vents, I can read the guilt there. He can’t deny it even in private.
But she won’t tell me, and I can’t blame her. If I knew the details… but safety and caution are our ultimate priorities.
After watching her another moment or two, I drag a hand through my hair, ripping out its binding, and groan. “Fine, Ser. You can cut it out now.”
She just shrugs as if she doesn’t understand, but I roll my eyes and finally relent.
“Force’s fail safe…it could be anywhere inside Serafina. Even long gone from the Temple, he could activate it. Stop her heart whenever he wants. Only he can flip the off-switch to the implant.”
She sighs, closing her eyes. Guess that’s better than her face falling to the floor.
“When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.”
She purses her lips. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Hey.” When I reach a hand out to stroke her cheek, I swear her skin gets softer every day. “Something you want to share?”
“Yes.”
I pause. Gauge her expression. “But you’re not going to, are you?”
“I can’t predict how you’ll react. If you could promise me—”
“If it comes to my brother, I can’t,” I tell her.
I’ve already come close to marching straight out of this room, grabbing him by the throat, and shaking the answer right out of him. But that would mean losing her, and she needs me more than ever right now.
“Best to leave it alone.” I reassure her. “I have my theories, but if you confirm any of them for me, the results won’t be pretty. If he wasn’t too much of a coward to face me up here—”
“He doesn’t fight fair. Like you.”
“Hogwash!”
Turning around, I march toward the window before jamming the side of my arm up against it, leaning on it for support. I consider everything we’ve gone through. Sure, I’ve broken the rules, but not like him. Sure, I know her inside and out, and I’ve used that against her on an emotional level, but I don’t operate on a physical one like him. That’s just playing dirty, toying with her hormones. Luc has a superior sense of justification for it because I’ve known her all my life. He considers the playing field balanced
.
But Serenity isn’t a game to me. Never has been. And she knows that. Guess she always knew it, but it took Blackbird, the Shed, the lakeshore outside Neil’s Museum, and my brother’s own seductive idiocy for her to confirm it. I’ll never forget the way she looked that night, her limbs trembling, skin shaking, cheeks flushed, body far warmer than it should’ve been. I was ready to beat him to a pulp. All it took was three words to stop me.
It’s you, Sky.
I’ve always belonged to her. It was just the first night she belonged to me.
Serenity’s arms fold around my waist, and I sigh before breathing her in and reciprocating. Doesn’t get any easier, but I can deal with it. My conscience makes me. This damned Temple forbids me. And the knowledge Serafina would turn me into a shish kabob otherwise.
20
M e R m a I d
Serenity
“Stop moving!” Lindy raises her voice. “You are so fidgety.”
“But I’m not moving at all,” I protest.
Lindy dips her head and rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you. Duh!” Then, she raises her hands and proceeds to scold her fingers. “I don’t care if you haven’t got any breaks today. Behave or I’ll do that thing with the ice bath. Or we could try some of those horrid finger exercises again.”
When her fingers pause from their trembling, she smiles. “Now, that’s more like it.”
I stifle a chuckle because then she’ll just complain about me moving as she starts painting my skin again. More shimmer, more shine, but the prosthetic scales gliding up the sides of my legs feel so natural they could’ve grown there. Silver, naturally. Lindy’s even applied a prosthetic finned ear with four points on each side of my head as well as gill prosthetics on my neck to complete the effect. The breathing implant was already grafted into my nostrils prior to the makeup application. A synthetic crystalline substance that absorbs all the oxygen in the room, transferring it to me—a miniature oxygen tank. Adding a gray-blue shade to areas of my skin helps to bring the underwater world onto my body. Grateful that silver scales flecked with pearls also coat my breasts, I feel more than eager to dive into my exhibit tonight.
