by Amity Cross
She smiled again, opening the door to my prison. Light flooded inside, and I scrambled back against the wall, my wits scattered.
Turning, she glanced at me once more before giving me a name.
“Lorelei.”
The boom that echoed through the room as she slammed the door, splintered right through my heart.
Lorelei.
Twenty
X
I only saw three people inside my cell.
The two men who had stuck me with the sedative on the first day went into rotation supervising the mental case. The third person was Agent Mei Akiyama, and she always stayed for longer. Working me by being charming and friendly…trying to earn my trust.
They brought me food, they gave me an extra blanket, but they never let me out of the room.
I bided my time, staring at the wall, keeping my mind sharp and going over every detail of my predicament in my head. I needed to be awake and alert at all times. I knew that they would try to use my mental instability against me at some point. So far, they’d just told me what they believed to be the truth, and even that hadn’t won me over.
I pulled at the bandages around my wrists, peeling away the padding on the left. Underneath, my skin was red and broken, and I counted four stitches. There would be more hiding underneath.
“It won’t heal if you keep playing with it,” Mei declared as she opened the door to my cell. “You’re lucky you didn’t sever any major arteries, though it was close.”
I pressed the bandage back in place. All they had told me so far was a convoluted story about me and my past, which I still didn’t remember, and that they wanted my help. It was past time they got to the point.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice sounding tight and very far away, like I hadn’t spoken in days.
“Answers,” she replied with a smile.
Scowling, I said, “I don’t have time for answers.”
Mei grimaced.
“I came to you for help,” I began.
“Without knowing what you would find,” she cut me off. “This is what you found.” She gestured to the room.
“You need to let me go,” I pressed.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You want information, but what assurances do I have that I will get her back?”
Mei shook her head, resistance written all over her face. “Mercy Reid? You still want to go after her knowing that she was going to betray you?”
If I was reading her correctly, Agent Akiyama was jealous, and if a woman felt threatened over another woman…
“We were together…before,” I stated. There was no other reason they’d pick her to reintroduce me to my old life. She’d meant something to me, so it was best coming from her. Psychobabble at its finest.
Her gaze met mine, and she didn’t have to say it. We’d known each other before…intimately.
“We were field partners,” she said carefully.
“It was more than that,” I shot back. “I can see it in your eyes, in your body.”
“We…had fun together, yes.”
She was saying just enough to keep any sane person satisfied they were getting the whole picture, but I wasn’t just any sane person. I was Xavier Blood.
My guess was the higher ups wanted movement on my case, and she was stalling. She was withholding information in order to separate me from my present life. Agent Akiyama wanted a dead man, and she was secretly hoping Mercy Reid would die before they let me go. Whatever we had in the past, she wanted it back more than life itself.
Maybe I had loved her, maybe she had loved me, by that reality was gone. It was a story, a fantasy, a fabrication. Oliver Cassel died and was reborn as Xavier Blood…and Xavier Blood loved Mercy Reid.
Standing, I took a step forward and she took one back, our gazes locked.
“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing at the door.
“You want this?” I asked, placing my palms against the wall on either side of her head. “You want to go back?”
“There’s cameras in here,” she whispered, her gaze stuck on mine like a deer mesmerized by the headlights of an oncoming truck.
I dipped my face lower, closing the distance between us. All I had to do was press forward an inch and my mouth would be on hers. “You want to fuck against this wall?” I snarled. “Do you want my cock inside you? Is that what you want?”
She gasped, her expression becoming uncomfortable. So, not something our friend Oliver would say.
“Be careful what you wish for, Agent Akiyama. Be. Very. Careful.”
She ducked low, shimmying out from against the wall. “You know, don’t you?”
I glared at her as I straightened up, my hands dropping to my sides. “I know a lot of things,” I replied darkly. “I don’t have to remember them to understand if they’re true or not.”
She nodded, letting out a deep sigh, allowing the tension to bleed from her body.
“Stop stalling, Agent Akiyama, or I will hold you personally responsible for Mercy's death.” It was Xavier Blood talking, not her long lost lover and she knew it.
With a sharp nod, she turned and let herself out of my cell.
The threat was clear. I no longer cared about my fate. I only cared about Mercy’s. If Mei returned with more games, she would witness firsthand what The Watchman did to me.
And I would fucking enjoy it.
It was another day before Mei came back.
I counted the time in meals. One dinner, one breakfast and two lunches. Not that the food here was anything to write home about. Mercy had been a much better cook, and I missed her slapped together breakfasts of bacon and eggs. Strange how we didn't realize the things we loved until they were snatched away from us. It was probably how Agent Akiyama was feeling every time she walked into this room. Like the universe was bitch-slapping her around the face.
She sat on the floor, in the position she’d become accustomed to, and sighed. Leaning forward, I pressed my elbows against my knees and waited. It seemed I was doing a lot of waiting these days, and I never liked to be idle.
“When you were taken,” she began, “we were working on breaking a trafficking ring.”
“Women,” I stated, and Mei’s eyes widened. “It seems that I have been coming into contact with more and more of these men as time goes by.” I raised an eyebrow and added, “Another thing I can assist you with.”
“Jacques Lafayette,” she said, obviously trying to get a reaction out of me.
I sneered at the sound of the name of the man Sykes was trying to get an in with in Paris. Mercy had wanted to rip his head off as well in a two birds, one stone kind of approach. In hindsight, maybe I should have let her.
Mei grimaced and cast her gaze away. She knew my worth, but she was still stalling, keeping me in the dark…keeping me to herself for that little bit longer.
“We were partners for almost five years,” she said. “Our case against Lafayette was growing, and we were getting close to cutting off an arm from the monster… Then one day, they took you.” She raised her gaze, staring right at me. “We’d had dinner at this little Italian place you liked in Soho. The tube was delayed that night, so we’d walked across the Thames and through the city. We joked about how we would’ve beaten the train, even though it took us almost forty-five minutes to get there from the office.”
I didn’t remember any of it. It seemed to mean a great deal to her, our last moments together, but I couldn’t relate to it. It was like a retelling of a story that had happened to a stranger.
“We got into an argument,” Mei went on, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “I can’t even remember what it was about now, but we went our separate ways. You were pissed at me, and I was pissed at you. Then you didn’t show up for work the next day. I called, but you didn’t answer, and when you didn’t complete your protocol for the day, we knew something was wrong. The department head and the Director of MI6 himself got involved…you w
ere his son after all. They sent a team to your apartment, but it was too late. You were gone, and we never found you.”
She fell silent. I already knew the rest.
“Five years,” I murmured. I’d been an agent for five years, and then stuck in a nightmare for eight. That was a long time to be in the dark, so I asked the question I probably should’ve asked days ago. “Then how old am I?”
“You would’ve had your thirty-third birthday on August eighth.”
Time had a strange way of sneaking up on you. Fast or slow, past or present, it was all a massive mind fuck.
“We were good together,” Mei said, and I understood she meant more than in the field.
I frowned, beginning to become overwhelmed at the massive info dump that had been piled on me since I'd been arrested in the street. I'd been an agent, my dad had been the fucking Director of MI6, I’d shot my brother in the head, I’d assassinated my own parents, and Mei had been my girlfriend. Fucking info dump of the century, and she just couldn’t let her heart go. She had to make one last ditch effort to perk my interest in fucking her again. Well, more than fucking, but I hadn’t been capable of loving until one woman believed enough in what remained to save me.
“Mei,” I snapped. “I’ve warned you enough. Leniency is not my strong suit, and I’ve been lenient enough.”
Silence fell in the tiny room, and she sat forward, crossing her legs. “I passed on your case notes,” she said, dismissing my threat. “The committee has conducted a review.”
Fucking committees and paper pushers. The red fucking tape of bureaucracy pissed me off.
“And?”
“They want you to submit to an MRI and a brain map. They think they can pinpoint the places that were changed by The Watchman’s conditioning.”
I shook my head. At least they were giving me a choice and not forcing me to be their pincushion. “They can’t do that.”
Mei shrugged. “They think it’s possible to trigger your memories. You mightn’t get everything back, but you might get something.”
Something other than death?
“I know you don’t quite believe any of this,” she went on, her gaze pleading with mine. “Maybe if you remember…”
“That room changed me,” I said. “The Watchman remade me. I’m not the same man, Mei. I’m dark…broken.”
She regarded me for the longest time, her expression blank. Her training would do that, but I could see it in her eyes. Sadness. Who was she expecting to find after all these years? She wanted the Oliver Cassel she’d had dinner with that night, the man who made jokes about fucking stupid shit like public transportation. I wasn’t that man anymore, and I would never be him again. I was Xavier Blood…or some perverted mash-up of both versions of myself. She wanted one, but I was both. Mei wanted a memory.
She shifted so her back was flush against the wall. “She keeps you together.”
I shook my head, visions of Mercy flooding into my mind’s eye. “She heals me.”
Mei bit her bottom lip and glanced away. I’d hurt her, but it was unavoidable.
“You know what they’re doing to her,” I said. “They’re doing the same thing they did to me. I can’t let her go through that. I can’t lose her to them.”
Mei’s head dropped, her black hair falling forward.
“Let me go.”
She glanced up at me, her expression stony. “On one condition.”
I narrowed my eyes, already knowing the answer.
“Subject yourself to the tests. Allow them to attempt to trigger your memories. Then we will talk about letting you back into the field.”
“I can get you what you want,” I retorted. “I can get you The Watchman and I can get you Greggor.”
“You won’t come back,” she stonewalled me.
She had me there. I had no intention of returning to MI6. The moment I had Mercy was the moment we disappeared forever. After all the shit we’d been through, we deserved our freedom together.
“What would Oliver have done?”
“Exactly what you’re doing now,” Mei declared, obviously exasperated. “See? You’re not as different as you imagined.”
“Fuck him,” I snapped, rising to my feet. “Fuck Oliver Cassel. I’m not him. I will never be him again. I only know what I am now. Even if I remember…” I sucked in a sharp breath, running my hand over my face. “Even if I remember, I will never be the same.”
Mei stood to face me, squaring her shoulders. She cleared the emotion from her expression, took a deep breath, and when she spoke, it was all business. “If you subject yourself to the tests, we will let you go on the condition you deliver us Greggor and The Watchman.”
“I will give you what you want, but I want Mercy Reid. She will walk free from this, and I will go with her. I want it in writing with the Director’s signature within the hour, or I will give you nothing.” I knew how these things worked. They could poke and prod me all they wanted, nothing could compare to the horrors I’d already lived through. Nothing but guaranteed release would make me talk.
Mei nodded. “I assumed you’d ask as much.”
“You better get moving if you want to make the deadline.”
She smiled softly and turned to leave the room. Like it was an afterthought, she paused at the door. “I want to trust you,” she murmured. “But you have to trust me.”
I scowled. “Trust only comes in writing, Mei.”
Then she was gone, the door closing behind her. The lock clicked, and I was alone, apart from whoever monitored the CCTV camera in my cell.
MI6 would scan my brain, they’d get two of their most wanted criminals crossed off their list, and in exchange, Mercy and I would walk free. They were getting way more out of this than I was.
With government resources and their intel, I would be able to move forward in my search for Greggor and The Watchman. The path would be clear, and my wrath would be unstoppable.
Mercy was strong, but I feared the changes I would find in her once I had her in my arms. No matter what happened next, she would have to live with this for the rest of her life, and I knew exactly how hard that was…and I’d been conditioned not to care. Now that I did, the memories of the torture that were scarred all over my body came with me wherever I went. In light and dark, they were there. She hadn’t had the training I’d been through. She hadn’t had the life of an agent before all of this. She was a student, an Art History major at Oxford, and all she had were the things that I had managed to pass on to her in our weeks at the cottage. I feared it wouldn’t be enough to see her through this.
I’d underestimated her before. Mercy had a fire inside of her that even I hadn’t felt the full force of yet, and she’d burned brightly many times since I’d first met her. I hoped…no, I believed she would hold on until I came for her.
I had to believe for both of us.
Twenty-One
X
The door to my cell opened at one minute to the hour, and Mei strode in looking flustered.
“As requested.” She held out a piece of paper, and I snatched it from her.
I scanned the letter and found all the things I’d demanded accounted for. My freedom, along with Mercy’s upon the delivery of Greggor and The Watchman, but first, I had to give them their scans and tests. At the bottom were the signatures, in blue ballpoint pen, of the Director of MI6 and the department head.
“If you are satisfied, you may come with me.”
I glanced up at Mei. They wanted to start now. Satisfied with the deal I’d made, I slid the letter underneath the poor excuse for a pillow and rose to my feet. The sooner they began, the sooner I was out of here.
“Hands out,” she declared, holding up a pair of handcuffs with a long chain attached.
I held out my hands, and she cuffed me, looping the chain around my waist and attaching my arms to it. Noticing she’d taken extra care to be gentle with my bandaged skin, I allowed her to pointlessly restrain me. There was no fighting my way
out, not in what I suspected was a highly fortified MI6 field office. There’d be mass casualties, but I’d end up dead before I could make it to the door. I wasn’t that stupid.
Besides, the Director had signed the letter in person, which meant they were watching me. My reappearance must be big news in the Intelligence circles if the big wigs were in town. I couldn’t make a mistake, not now.
Mei nodded toward the door, and I turned as she curled her hand around the chain at the small of my back. “It’s not far,” she said. “But please don’t try anything.”
“You gave me what I wanted. As long as you don’t try and fuck me over, I won’t fuck with you.”
Her reply was to push me forward into the hall and close the door behind us. Everything was slate gray, from the floors to the walls and the ceiling. Fluorescent lights lit the way, their clinical whiteness not in the least bit surprising. There was nothing to distract agents from their work, and the blandness would keep their minds directly on task.
As we walked, we passed out of the holding area into the main office, which was abuzz with activity. Everyone sat with their computers switched to the MI6 logo, all telephones were down, and papers were clear from all desktops. I assumed it was for my benefit, being a wanted criminal and all. I was still a security risk, even though I had been one of them before I was conditioned.
Eyes followed my every move as we progressed through the halls, my boots hardly making a sound on the polished concrete floors. Curious eyes, angry eyes, appraising eyes… They all wanted to see what the fuss was about, and I couldn’t help wondering if I’d known any of the staff in this particular field office. Maybe I hadn’t worked out of here at all. Mei had mentioned that I’d been in London the day I was taken, but eight years was a long time for things to change.
I’m sure they all knew who I was, and if they didn’t have the clearance for it, they probably thought I was a monster that had killed countless people. What did I care about people who I’d never see again once I left this place? Nothing, because I was all of those things.
