by Megan Tayte
‘Bacon ice-cream,’ I recited obediently.
‘Man I’ll feel a plank if I have to drop that in mid-conversation,’ said Luke.
‘Kind of the idea,’ Jude told him. ‘It needs to stand out.’
‘Can you even get bacon ice-cream?’
But I’d never know, because at that moment the doors to the lift slid open and out strode a tall, rugged man with dark cropped hair and an easy smile and scars – so many scars.
‘Welcome!’ said my father.
We all stood, and there was an awkward moment when no one knew quite what to do. Gabe’s hand rose up, perhaps to shake a hand, but dropped when none of us moved.
‘Shall we go up?’ he said.
Mutely, we followed him to the lift. Luke slid his hand into mine and squeezed tight. The gesture would have been a lot more comforting had his palms not been slick with sweat. We all piled into the lift – Gabe at the control panel, we three with backs against the opposing wall.
‘Top floor,’ said Gabe, punching a button. ‘Up in the heavens. That’s my apartment. I own the twelve floors below it – the rest of the family use those floors. And I have a couple of small flats on the ground floor. Luke, you’re welcome upstairs for a little while, but then you’ll need to move to the ground to give us all space.’
Luke nodded; he’d expected as much. That was why Jude was here, so I wouldn’t be left alone with Gabe.
The lift mechanism ground to a smooth halt and the doors glided open.
‘Home sweet home,’ said Gabe, stepping out and through a door that had been left flung open.
The doorway was so wide that Luke, Jude and I stepped through three abreast. We stood awkwardly together and took in the surroundings. Given the setting, I’d braced myself for a swanky pad. In fact, I’d pegged Gabe, with his godlike air, for ostentation, and I’d fully expected a room full of state-of-the-art gadgets and tasteless but priceless objets d’art chosen to show off his mighty ‘success’. But the apartment wasn’t tasteless at all. It was stunning. And eerily familiar.
‘Oh,’ I said without thinking. ‘Like Mum’s!’
The building was entirely different, of course. Mum’s recently renovated home was a little gatekeeper’s lodge on a quiet country estate; this was an immense apartment at the top of a city tower. Mum’s rooms were small and quaint; Gabe’s rooms were vast – the room in which we were standing spanned the entire width of the building, taking in a living room, dining space and kitchen, all designed to make the best of the views through the wall of windows. But the essence of both homes was the same. Whitewashed walls. Simple wood floors. Edgy furniture in bold colours. Minimalist. Modern.
‘Your mother and I always did have similar tastes when it came to living spaces,’ said Gabe. ‘And art. And culture.’
I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say. To hear a man, a stranger to me, talk of my mother so intimately – it was unsettling, to say the least.
‘It’s a mild evening. I thought we’d sit out on the balcony.’
It wasn’t a question, but I treated it as one.
‘Fine.’
Gabe’s lips quirked at my little show of spirit. ‘You go make yourselves comfortable then,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring us out some drinks.’
He turned and strode off to the kitchen.
‘Scarlett,’ hissed Luke. ‘We’re eighteen floors up! Do you really think…?’
I said nothing, just tugged his hand and pulled him over to the sliding doors. Jude followed close behind.
Outside, the balcony was impressive, but it didn’t remotely give the impression of solidity. The glass barrier didn’t help, creating an illusion of there being no division between this slab of concrete floating out from the building and the River Thames far, far below.
Luke gave a low whistle. ‘If this is how the other half lives, I think I’ll stop buying lottery tickets.’
‘Vertigo?’ I asked.
‘Hugely.’ He furrowed his brow. ‘But why aren’t you a jibbering wreck? You hate heights!’
I looked again at the drop, then at Luke. ‘I’m not here to be fearful,’ I said simply.
Other than two potted trees, the only additions to the space were four armchair-style rattan seats set around a low table. While Luke and I talked, Jude had dragged three of the chairs so they were right against the wall of the apartment – as far away as possible from the edge. He’d left a lone chair opposite, back to the glass barrier.
‘Not you too,’ I said to Jude, stepping over to take the middle seat.
Jude sat gingerly to my left, near the door. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘What have I got to fear from heights? I could just Travel to safety mid-plummet.’
‘That makes me – human – feel much better,’ Luke muttered, sitting down to my other side.
‘It’s not the height,’ said Jude. ‘It’s…’
‘The fact that we’re a very long way from Cerulea?’ I suggested.
He checked behind him, and then said in a low voice, ‘I just don’t know what to expect. All my life, I’ve hated them, the Fallen, and Gabriel more than any. I was brought up to believe they’re our diametric opposites. Evil. But since the beach, since Sienna… they’re vigilantes?’
‘Does that change anything?’ I asked him.
He shrugged. ‘I guess that’s why I’m here: to find out.’
‘And to protect Scarlett,’ added Luke.
‘’Course,’ said Jude.
Ignoring that word I’d come to loathe, protect, tested my patience. I decided to focus on the positive instead, and thanked Jude for coming.
‘It can’t have been easy for you,’ I said, ‘lying to Evangeline.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I didn’t lie. No more lies.’
‘So you’ve gone AWOL again? Jude, that’ll worry her.’
Even as I spoke, I wondered where this concern for my great-grandmother had come from.
‘I didn’t go behind her back,’ he said. ‘She knows I’m here. I told her everything.’
Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘I bet she hit the roof.’
‘No, actually,’ said Jude. ‘She went really quiet for a long time. Then all she said was that she trusted me, and Scarlett, and that we’d be true to ourselves and do what was right.’
I frowned. That didn’t sound like Evangeline: she was all rules and control – and deceit. Once, she’d been so desperate to keep me from the Fallen that she’d effectively imprisoned me on the island. But then, come to think of it, the last time I’d seen her she’d lost some of her edge. She’d been kinder, more accepting, more open. A side-effect, perhaps, of knowing her days were numbered.
‘Since your mum got hurt, Scarlett,’ Jude continued, ‘Evangeline’s not been herself. When we heard – when Luke called – I went to her. I told her what had happened, on the beach that day with Gabriel, and then at Hollythwaite, with your mum. She cried. I’d never seen her cry before.’
The sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway made us all start. We’d forgotten where we were, and in whose company.
To give him credit, Gabe didn’t attempt to pretend he hadn’t overheard. As he set a laden tray down on the table, he said, ‘You might as well know that Evangeline and I spoke on the phone this afternoon.’
He sat down on the chair we’d left for him, leaned back on the cushions and waited for a response from one of us. Any of us.
Luke and Jude were silent, and I quickly realised this was how it would be. They were here for me, to support me. But they respected that this was a meeting between father and daughter, and neither would presume to speak for me.
‘But I thought you were enemies,’ I said at last.
‘I wouldn’t term it like that – though perhaps Evangeline may have. Certainly, she was keen to impress on me that I must not, and I quote, try to “corrupt” any of you to my way of thinking.’
It was a joke, but I deliberately took it literally. ‘I am not
corruptible,’ I told him.
‘Good,’ he said seriously.
An awkward moment sprang up, but it was quickly smoothed over by our host. ‘Drinks and nibbles, anyone?’ he said, gesturing to the tray he’d set on the table.
I glanced down and my eyes widened. No wonder I’d had the sense the tray was laden when he came out. Not an inch of the tray itself was visible, packed as the surface was with a massive jug of some kind of fruit punch, four tall glasses, and so many food products it looked like Gabe had done a supermarket sweep in the snack aisle: tubes of crisps, bags of crisps, tubs of nuts, tubs of pretzels, packets of dried fruits, pots of dip, bowls of crudités, and a big platter of warmed cocktail sausages, miniature pork pies and teeny scotch eggs.
‘I wasn’t sure what you liked…’ he said.
I looked up then and saw him, really saw him, for the first time that day. His smile was achingly wide. His posture was carefully casual. He was nervous. He wanted to get this right, he wanted me to feel at home, but he didn’t know exactly how to achieve that.
‘Thank you,’ I said quietly, and I saw a little of the tightness at the corner of his eyes soften.
Luke and Jude had already dived in and, suddenly realising it had been a long time since our picnic in the park, I joined them.
Soon, we all had a glass of juice in one hand and a snack in the other, and we were chatting fairly easily about the London life, a safe, neutral subject. Gabe was just describing the walk upriver to central London, along Chelsea Embankment and past the Palace of Westminster, and I was just reflecting that this was all surprisingly civilised, when the relative calm was shattered by a familiar voice:
‘No! Goddammit, I told you – no!’
As one, we turned to where my sister was standing, framed in the doorway. My first impression of her was red. Her hair, as always, was red and prickly. Her dress today was the shade of cherry lipstick. But it was her face, usually coolly pale, that was the shock: it was crimson. I’d never seen her so angry, which was saying something: my volatile sister was routinely snappy about something or other. But now, she looked… well, murderous.
As if reading my mind, Luke dropped his sausage roll and grabbed my arm. Jude, to my other side, didn’t touch me. He was frozen, staring at my sister.
‘Sienna,’ said Gabe, ‘must we be subjected to these dramatic entrances? They’re really quite wearing, love.’
‘You had no right!’ she roared at him.
I looked at Luke. He frowned back at me. I looked at Jude. His eyes were fixed on Sienna.
Gabe got to his feet, so that he stood taller than my sister. But he tempered his dominance as he spoke to her, gently:
‘Listen, I’m not going to do anything. Scarlett needs a place to stay. Luke and Jude are here to back her up. That’s it. It was a last-minute arrangement today, and I tried to call you, but you’ve been out with Daniel with your phone switched off.’
‘I made it clear enough before that they aren’t welcome here.’
‘Both of my daughters will always be welcome in my home.’
‘You know I’ve nowhere else to go!’
‘Then don’t go anywhere. Stay right here.’
‘With them right near us? No! I know what you’re doing. But it’s my choice – mine! You stay away from us, or I’ll… I’ll…’
‘You’ll what, Sienna?’
She opened her mouth, closed it again. Opened it. Swore at Gabe.
His eyes darkened. ‘Sienna,’ he said in a tone laced with warning, ‘I am your father, and no matter your emotional state, you will address me with respect.’
‘Respect!?’ she spat, and she swept an arm around to gesture at Luke and Jude and me. ‘Clearly not a concept you’re familiar with.’
‘Leave us,’ Gabe commanded. ‘Now.’
Gone was the relaxed, friendly guy of the past half-hour, replaced with a man whose word was law – not a father, but a leader of men. Of murderers.
He took a step toward my sister, and as he did Jude shot up beside me.
‘Er, bacon ice-cream?’ said Luke.
I glanced up and saw by Jude’s face that he was torn. He was here to protect me, but he was drawn to Sienna.
No one moved.
‘We will discuss this later, Sienna. Now is not the time,’ said Gabe. He cocked his head and added, ‘Unless you want your sister… and Luke… and Jude to take part in our discussion, that is?’
Sienna’s eyes darted to us and a shadow flickered across her face. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ll go.’ In a whirl of red, she turned away, and in moments the hammering of fast-retreating footsteps on the wooden floor was replaced with the crash of a slammed door.
The four of us remained in our positions for a long, difficult moment: Gabe frowning into the now-silent apartment; Jude standing as rigidly as a Queen’s Guard sentry; Luke gripping my arm and staring at me, wide-eyed; me sitting – just sitting, watching, waiting, doing nothing.
I was furious with myself. Why hadn’t I spoken up? Why had I been the meek little sister while my father and my sister went at it? It had all happened so fast, and I couldn’t understand the subtext.
Abruptly, I stood up – I didn’t know why; to go after Sienna, maybe, or just to do something, anything, other than sit about. But the balcony lurched under my feet and I staggered forwards, knocking into the table.
In an instant, two pairs of hands grabbed me at either side.
‘What is it – are you dizzy?’ Luke demanded.
‘No,’ I said. But I was, and I slumped back down.
Luke and Jude sat beside me and I could feel their scrutiny, but I focused on an apartment block across the river, willing my head to clear.
‘Scarlett?’ said Gabe.
I refocused to see that he, too, had moved closer. How embarrassing – three blokes all set to rescue me from nose-diving into a snack buffet.
‘How long has she been in the field today?’ Gabe asked Luke.
‘In the field?’
‘Around humans.’
Stupid! You’d think, after all these months as a Cerulean I’d have learned to recognise the signs of overload. But I’d been distracted.
‘It must have been since, what, eight this morning?’ Luke said before I could answer. ‘The hospital, then the hotel – she napped there, but not for long. Then all around city, the Tube…’
‘Too much,’ said Jude.
‘She needs to rest,’ said Gabe. ‘Without any people around. I’ll show you –’
‘She is sitting right here,’ I snapped, ‘and can decide for herself what she needs.’
All eyes turned to me.
‘Sorry,’ said Luke, looking suitably contrite.
‘Over to you then, Scarlett,’ said Gabe. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need…’ I stopped and thought. ‘Er… to rest. Without any people around.’
Gabe was good enough to conceal the grin I could see hovering at the corners of his mouth.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you to your rooms. Luke, you’ve got a one-bed apartment to yourself on the ground floor. Scarlett and Jude, you’re up here with me in the guest rooms.’
‘Nope,’ said Luke. ‘That won’t work.’
‘I realise it’s uncomfortable for you and Scarlett to be separated like that,’ said Gabe, ‘but we need the space. And you’re just a lift-ride away.’
‘You know it has to be that way,’ I told Luke. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘I know,’ he said, ‘but it’s not my sleeping arrangement I’m talking about. Jude?’
Jude shifted uneasily beside me and muttered, ‘I’m sharing a room with Scarlett.’
‘What?’ I turned to gawp at him. He had the good grace to blush.
‘Oh,’ said Gabe. ‘I’m sorry. I assumed. Have I got this all wrong?’ He pointed to Luke and then me.
‘No!’ I said sharply. ‘I’m with Luke. Jude is a friend.’
Gabe looked relieved. ‘Good,’ he
said. His eyes flicked to the inside of the apartment, to where my sister had just stalked off.
‘Jude’s staying with Scarlett,’ said Luke, ‘because I can’t.’
I wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous – of course I was safe enough here without a bodyguard in my bedroom. But I saw by the set of his jaw that his mind was made up.
‘You guys have been plotting again,’ I said warningly. But I was too tired to go there, and I finished with a defeated: ‘Whatever. Roomies it is.’
‘Thank you,’ said Luke softly.
Thank you for what? I wondered. For letting him call the shots? For letting him be so cautious? Not, I thought, for my agreeing to spend the night with a guy he’d once been so threatened by.
I gave Luke’s knee a nudge. ‘It’ll cost you highly in cakeage,’ I told him. ‘Jude snores like a pig.’
Jude snorted in derision. Unfortunately for him, the snort had a decidedly porky edge to it.
*
A half-hour later, Jude and I were tucked up in bed. Luckily for us – and for Luke’s sanity – separate beds. The king-size bed in the west-side guest room was a zip-and-link, so with a little wrestling with attachments and some rearranging of the room, Jude and I had a bed each. We lay propped up on the pillows, watching dusk settle over the city and picking out iconic buildings in the skyline.
‘Eight-thirty,’ said Jude. ‘I haven’t been to bed this early since I was so high.’ He held a hand out at the height of the low chest of drawers wedged between our beds.
‘I told you, there’s no need for you to rest up. Go out and talk to Gabe.’
‘Not likely.’
‘Or take your new best mate Luke for a drink – Gabe mentioned a pub around the corner.’
‘Both of which involve leaving you alone, dummy. I’m here for the night. Live with it.’
I sighed. ‘This sucks. You can’t watch over me constantly, you know.’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But at least for now. Until we know what’s what here.’
We were silent for a moment. Then I turned onto my side to face him.
‘Jude,’ I said, ‘about Sienna…’
He tensed at the name. ‘What about her?’
‘I’m sorry. I know you’d rather not go there. But given what happened earlier, I think we have to.’
