by Sarah Fine
I was so desperate to find Nadia that for a half second I wondered if maybe he could. He’d seen Nadia—maybe he knew where she was. Then the face of the frightened housewife shimmered in my head. He’d killed her in cold blood. No, Malachi would not help me, and I couldn’t trust him with Nadia. Or myself, for that matter.
“Help me? I’m surprised you haven’t killed me yet.”
“Do I look like someone who would want to kill you?” He smiled in a charming sort of way, obviously trying to look harmless. I almost laughed. He wasn’t a very good actor either.
When I didn’t answer, he sank back into the folding chair. “All right, you won’t tell me why you’re here. Let’s try some simpler questions, then. Although it appears contrary to your very nature, could you try to give me some straightforward answers? Were you in the military?”
“Are you kidding me? I was in high school.”
“High school,” he said quietly. “You’re American. And a civilian?”
“Uh, yes. An American civilian.”
“Lovely. A straight answer. Keep it up. Did somebody train you?”
“No, nobody trained me. Unless you count the Rhode Island child welfare and juvenile justice systems. Why?”
Malachi held up his hand and ticked off the reasons with his fingers. “You stole a Guard’s weapon. If I’m not mistaken, it belonged to a Gate Guard. Which means you managed to do it on your way into the city. You escaped Amid even after he had you in hand. You slashed his leg in just the right place, preventing him from chasing you. Under extreme duress, injured and cornered, you threw a knife and hit a target—”
“It’s not like I hit something vital.”
“Under duress,” he replied smoothly. “After he cracked several of your vertebrae and broke your ribs, you struck him with the force and angle necessary to break his nose—in very close quarters and despite his considerable size advantage. And then you stole one of his weapons and used it to shatter his cheekbone. That is my concrete, tangible evidence that you’ve been well trained. But how about the intangibles?”
He pointed a finger at me and continued. “You are crafty—I’m willing to bet you had a plan when you came into this city. You are observant—I can see it in every sweep of your eyes across this room. And you continued fighting in the face of insurmountable odds and what was, I do not doubt, excruciating pain. You were still trying to fight when I pulled Amid off you and picked you up off that floor, despite the fact that your injuries would likely have been fatal. So,” he concluded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “my theory is that you were trained and sent to infiltrate this city. I just want to know why.”
Oh my God. No one in my whole life had ever given me that much credit. Too bad it was coming in exactly the wrong situation from exactly the wrong person. He made me sound like some assassin ninja spy. Watch out for evil Super Lela, here to bring your city down from the inside! I started to giggle. “For all your evidence, you have drawn some seriously demented conclusions.”
In an instant he was out of his chair and behind me on the cot, pulling me against him, a long arm encircling me and pinning my arms in front of me.
I drew my feet up and stomped them on the mattress as I arched back. His head smacked against the wall, but he was much taller and stronger. He bent forward, folding me into a painful position that kept my legs straight and stole my leverage. Fighting my rising panic, I threw my head back in an effort to smash his face, but all it hit was the rock-hard ridge of his shoulder. He had positioned himself perfectly, preventing me from being able to strike at him in any way. Even through the inky wash of frantic thoughts and memories, I registered the snick of a blade being drawn.
I should have known he’d be armed.
He held the hunting knife in his right hand and used its razor-sharp tip to edge up the loose sleeve of my shirt, revealing my tattoo. I started to tremble. I hated feeling weak. I hated him even more for making me feel it.
“I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, but please don’t mistake my amusement for patience,” he said in a perfectly calm, completely deadly voice. His breath was warm as it skimmed across my cheek. “I take my job very seriously. Which means, unfortunately for you, that I will do whatever is necessary to discover your true purpose for being here.” He positioned the blade of the knife against my arm, just above the tattoo. I bit back a whimper and tried to struggle, but he pressed the edge of the blade a little harder into my arm. I held still.
“That’s better, thank you. Now, I believe this face is important to you. So if you don’t tell me why you’re here, right now, I will slice it off your arm and burn it in front of you. Do you believe me, Lela?”
I nodded. Furious tears streamed from the corners of my eyes, wetting his cheek. He smiled against my skin. “Speak, or I start cutting.”
I knew he’d do it. I’d seen what he was capable of. He would steal Nadia from me forever if I didn’t speak. “I’m here for her,” I moaned. “I came here to get her out.”
He pulled the blade away, letting it hover now, a threat, a promise. “Who is she?”
“Nadia. My best friend. She killed herself. I don’t even know why. But she’s here, and she’s so scared.” I cried helplessly, sagging forward. “I snuck into the city to get her.” Malachi was motionless and silent. I took a chance. “Please,” I begged, “after you kill me, don’t go after her. She will never get out without help. Without me. She’s no threat to you.”
“I know that,” he said dismissively. The stubble on his jaw scraped against my temple as he spoke. “You said you sneaked into the city. Didn’t you arrive at the Suicide Gates?”
“No, not really. When I…died, I arrived outside, in a field. But I saw the city, and I knew that’s where she was. I couldn’t stay out there when I knew she was trapped in here.”
“Are you telling me you arrived in the Countryside and chose to come into the city? To rescue your friend?” He sounded completely baffled.
“Yes. I didn’t want to, but she needs me. I had to try.” I stared at Nadia’s face on my arm, knowing I would never see that face in person again. My tears hit the tattoo, became Nadia’s tears.
“You didn’t want to,” he repeated, his voice harboring a million questions. But he didn’t ask them. Instead, he straightened, giving me a little breathing room. His arm was wrapped across my chest, and his fingers curled over my shoulder, resting gently on me, almost tenderly, in sharp contrast to the blade he held in his other hand. I ventured a glance at his face.
“I think I believe you,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to my arm. “But how did you know what awaited you here?”
The bitter bark of laughter escaped before I could stop it. “I think it would be fair to say I grossly underestimated what awaited me here.”
“You had a plan coming in. You have her face on your arm, you—”
“I had her face tattooed on my arm because I wanted her with me.”
“But that’s what you were doing, wasn’t it? You were asking people if they’d seen her.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “So how did you know she was here? No one on Earth knows about this place. They only guess: Purgatory. Hell. Naraka. Hawiyah. Hades. Sheol. Gehenna. All religions attempt to explain what happens to people who kill themselves, but no one is certain. Many people who arrive here are in shock for a long time once they see where they are. How did you know what to expect?” His arms tightened around me as his thighs tensed on either side of mine.
The fluttering pace of my heart nearly choked me. There probably wouldn’t be a second chance if he didn’t like my answer, but I had no brain space for anything but the truth. “I…I tried to kill myself once. I showed up at the Gates and was about to go through when I was revived. But ever since then, this place has haunted me. I never really got away from it. I dreamed of it. Sometimes I even saw it—like a shadow over the real world. It was scary as hell, and I hated it, but it made me want to li
ve.”
“You wandered the city even when you were alive?”
Praying he would believe me, I nodded my head, and it bounced off his collarbone.
“I have heard of this,” he said thoughtfully. “Ghosts who roam the city but are not really part of it. It makes sense that it would be people who had tried to kill themselves but did not succeed. But that doesn’t explain how you know about your friend.”
“When Nadia died, I started having nightmares and visions of her here. I was inside her head, seeing and feeling everything with her. I saw her come into the city. I’ve seen her wandering every day, starving and frightened. And I saw things I’d never noticed before in my own nightmares.” I saw you kill people.
“You saw the Guards. You noticed where we keep our weapons.”
“Yes. When I decided to come get her, I thought I might need to defend myself. And her.” From you.
“But these visions of your friend. Did you have that ability before?”
“You mean, was I, like, psychic or something? Uh, no.”
A few minutes ticked by in silence. I tried not to squirm, but his breath was hot on my skin. His heart beat against my spine, making my insides vibrate in time with its rhythm. It was too much. Too much closeness. Too much heat. I couldn’t translate the mixed signals inside my own body, let alone the warmth coming from his. Just when I was about to lose it, he said, “I’m going to let go of you slowly. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to hurt me, though I guess I’d understand if you did.”
He spread his arms. I darted forward and turned around, backing up against the wall with a folding chair between us.
Malachi sighed, eyeing my white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair. “Please don’t try to hit me with that.”
“So what happens now?” I asked, pleased that I sounded calm and controlled rather than like a seething mass of fury and despair and confusion.
He held my gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re on an impossible mission. Three thousand people arrive at the Suicide Gates every single day. Haven’t you noticed the size of this city? You could wander for years and never find her. And if by some miracle you did, there is only one way out. You have to go before the Judge. If your friend is not ready to receive a positive verdict, she will not get out. End of story.”
I clenched my teeth. “I have to find her. It’s the only reason I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to do that.”
I pressed my back against the wall and looked to see if the knife was still in his hand. It wasn’t. I’d been watching him for all but a few seconds, and he’d somehow concealed it again without my noticing.
As often as I’d assessed people for their soft spots, their vulnerabilities and weaknesses, I recognized a person without any. But then I saw an opening. I stared at him, taking in the glint of curiosity in his eyes as he returned my scrutiny, the subtle slide of his gaze along my body and over my face. Despite being on duty as my inquisitor and guard, he had just checked me out. As much as I hated to think about it, as much as I could barely stand any guy looking at me like that, a sneaky, sleazy thought occurred to me. Maybe you could use this to get to his key….
I pushed the thought away and my gaze flicked back to the door, but his body blocked it from sight in the next second. “Don’t, Lela.” He pinned the folding chair to the ground with one of his knees. “You were in the Countryside—you know what it’s like there. Don’t you want to go back?”
What was I supposed to say to that? Of course I wanted to go back. I bowed my head. I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Most people here can’t see it, even when they’re right next to the wall. They’re so absorbed in their own sadness that they can’t see past the darkness. But you can. You belong out there.” Something longing and broken in his voice brought my eyes to his. He moved a little closer. “I can take you to the Judge. I will take you myself.”
Like a probation officer. Perfect. “I’ve been before judges in the past. Not pleasant experiences.”
“This will be different, believe me. You’ll get out.”
I looked up at him and felt like I was drowning. Like I was sinking with weighted limbs into a bottomless sea, watching Nadia grow more distant and unreachable as I descended. Everyone has a limit, and I’m no different. I was tired and frightened and wanted to surrender to him. Certainly there seemed no way to defeat him. Then I looked down at my arm.
I shook my head. “You have no grounds to keep me here. I have to go find her.”
He laughed bitterly and took a step back, moving his knee off the chair. “Where do you think you are?” He scoffed. “Americans. Your conceptions of civil rights have become truly comical. Look, I can keep you here for years if I want to. But that’s not what I’m going to do. Instead, I will get you out of this city, whether you want to go or not.”
I couldn’t push my sneaky thought away any longer. Arguing wasn’t working, so I had to go for pathetic and manipulative. And utterly terrifying. I took a deep breath. “All right,” I said, stepping around the chair. “Fine. I’ll go. Thank you for helping me.”
He watched me with narrowed eyes as I approached him. I forced my feet forward, dread rising with each step. Did I really want to poke a sharp stick at this particular dragon?
I had to. If I could find and steal his key, I could figure out how to get out of there. He watched the motion of my hand as it rose slowly between us and came to rest on his chest. I hoped the way my hands shook would work in my favor. That he would interpret my unsteadiness as desire instead of fear. Encouraged by the hitch in his breath, by the way his eyes widened slightly as I touched him, I slid my other hand along his waist, searching for a key ring…and finding nothing but a lot of muscles.
His heart pounded beneath my palm, and I hoped his hormones might take over, that he might start acting like an actual teenage guy instead of a Guard. I leaned my forehead against his chest as spots floated across my vision. Don’t chicken out. This is for Nadia.
His fingers closed around my chin and tipped it up until I was looking into his eyes. Every part of me tensed to keep from stumbling back. With agonizing slowness, he bent his head until his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from mine. My stomach lurched as I stared into his dangerous, dark gaze.
Stay still. You have to get that key.
My breath escaped my lungs in uneven little huffs. I wasn’t sure I could endure this without screaming. It was too confusing and too intense. Too close, too real, too likely to get out of control. Too dangerous, too hot. Would he hurt me? Would he be rough? I almost pulled back at the raw images that plowed through my head.
But I had survived rough. I’d gotten pretty good at disconnecting my brain from my body when I absolutely had to. I could get through it for her. Not wanting to think about it anymore, I tried to press my lips to his, but his fingers tightened on my chin and stopped me. For a moment he held me there. He closed his eyes and breathed me in. His fingers spread from my chin to stroke my cheek, a feather of a touch. I held my breath, waiting for his mouth to descend on mine, wondering what it would feel like, terrified to find out.
“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered against my mouth. I froze. He stepped away from me nimbly, wearing an amused smile. “I don’t blame you for trying, but it’s unnecessary. And I’m afraid you’ve just won yourself a stay in the holding cell. I’ll come get you in the morning and take you to the Sanctum—where the Judge presides.”
I stared at him, slack jawed, humiliated—and shamefully relieved. He hammered on the door twice with his closed fist, never taking his eyes off mine. Keys jangled as someone outside unlocked the door. He didn’t have a key. He had locked himself in there with me. I felt very stupid.
Thus ended my initial foray as a sex kitten.
NINE
I PACED MY CELL, having fantasies about Malachi—specifically how I would
like to kill him. It had been a while since I’d felt so out of control and off balance with another person. I liked being in control. It was why I hated pills. And alcohol. And most grown-ups. Staying one step ahead was the only way to keep myself from getting hurt again.
But Malachi seemed to know every move I would make before I made it. He seemed to know which buttons to push and had done so with a smile. The way he stared at me made me squirm. I only spent half a moment considering whether I’d be able to get away from him once he came to get me. He’d probably be ready for me to try.
My current babysitter, a Guard named Lutfi, had long since slumped over the Guards’ table. His deep, rumbling snores scraped at my ears. As loud as they were, and with all my churning thoughts, I almost missed the urgent sound of a voice. My next-door neighbor—a fellow prisoner.
“Hey, girl. Can you hear me?” The sound came from the back of the cell.
I spun around. Near the bench that lined the back of the tiny space, just at the juncture of the two walls, a single brick had been chipped away, leaving a small hole. I pressed in and saw a pair of dark brown eyes looking back at me. “Are they going to execute you?”
I cringed. “I don’t think so. Malachi said he was going to take me before the Judge.”
“Malachi,” the voice growled, drawing out each syllable with hatred. “Malachi is bad. He will kill you, girl.”
“I think if he wanted to, he would have by now.” I wasn’t sure why I was defending him, except that, apart from being completely frustrating, he’d actually been pretty gentle and kind to me. He’d only seemed to want me to go back out into the Countryside. It wasn’t his fault that I had no intention of doing that until I found Nadia.
“Malachi is ruthless. He will make you believe anything. He will kill you when he gets what he wants from you. He and his Guards have killed so many of my family,” the voice whispered, then coughed out a sob.
