City of Deception (The White City Series Book 1)

by Alexa Mackintosh

  Setting his work bag on the table, he answers, “Perfect. Might I have a cup of tea as well? I think I’m coming down with something. Might your mother have a remedy? She mentioned she had a knack for herbs.”

  “My mother and stepfather are away, but I can mix something.”

  “They’re away?”

  “For the night. They should be back tomorrow evening.” I scan his eyes, forehead, and cheeks for that is where sickness is most visible. Sweat dots his forehead,

  City of Deception

  and a deep red streak fills his cheeks. “You have the sweating fever.”

  He frowns. “What is that?”

  “It’s common here, especially among children and newcomers. It’s nothing to be concerned with as you’ll be fine in a day or two and you’re not contagious. You might want to ask off tomorrow, though. I’ll make a special tea, and you should take a bath. I’ll make dinner while you do so.”

  “Thank you for your advice, Miss Natalia. Are you sure you don’t want help with dinner first?”

  “My sisters will assist. You are the guest.”

  I make dinner while my sisters set the table. Dmitri hauls several buckets of water into his room and disappears into my old bedroom. We have a bathroom down the hall leading to my parents’ room consisting of a toilet and sink, but no tub. A copper drum serves as the tub and must be pulled into different rooms and manually filled. At least there is running water in the kitchen.

  He comes into the kitchen as I finish dishing out the food. His cheeks remain red, but he seems a little better. “Girls, why don’t we eat dinner in the living room in front of the fireplace? It will be an indoor picnic,” I say. “Get a blanket and throw it on the floor to catch the crumbs.”

  They grab their plates and run off to do as asked. Mama never lets us eat anywhere but the kitchen. She’ll understand this exception. Fire's heat will flush the

  Alexa Mackintosh

  sweating fever heat out of Dmitri. It’s also too hot for an- ything but a kitchen fire, but this will help him. It’s not yet spring, and we should be experiencing cool weather with frosts at night. Lately, it’s been as hot as June.

  “They adore you,” he says. “Reminds me of my younger sibling.”

  “You have siblings?”

  “Yes, one. Did you happen to make any of your fabulous pies for dinner?”

  “Yes, it’s in the oven, but I think you best avoid it with your fever. Go to the fire and sit close while we eat.” He laughs. “In this legendary spring heat wave?

  Are you attempting to kill me?”

  I smile. If he likes to tease, I can play the game. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  s

  By the time we part for bed, not only has he improved, but I’m impressed yet again. My sisters love him, and though I tell them repeatedly to leave him in peace, they request he play games with them.

  “I made more tea. If you need it, it’s on the stove. Good- night, Dmitri.”

  “Goodnight, Talia,” he says.

  It’s funny, ever since he arrived, he’s called me Talia, not Natalia. “If you keep calling me that, I will have to come up with a nickname for you.”

  “Do you mind? I’ll stop.”

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  “No, I’ve always found my name long. Yours is short, so perhaps I’ll make yours longer.”

  He smiles. “I might also call you ‘Sweet Cakes.’ Would you hate that? It’s only in gest.”

  I scowl. “It’s a little prissy, but I do bake sweet cakes.”

  He laughs. “Exactly, but we can leave the name up for discussion. I can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”

  As he disappears into the bedroom, I scurry off to the room I’m sharing with the twins, a giggly grin on my face.

  s

  I’m awakened in the night by a loud shout.

  One of the twins, but I can’t tell which in the dark, says, “There are ghosts!”

  Before they left, my stepfather gave me his pistol. He said it was just in case, but I suspect it was because of Dmitri. As nice as Dmitri is, he’s a young man in our house that we hardly know, and my stepfather wishes to protect me.

  Crawling out of bed, I throw a shawl over my night- gown and tiptoe down the hall. Another shout breaks the silence, coming from my room.

  Perhaps there’s an intruder.

  Fear crawls into the pit of my stomach.

  Running as quietly as I can to my old room, I throw open the door expecting to see someone but am met by darkness.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “Dmitri, what’s going on?” Flipping the light on, I find Dmitri asleep in bed. His covers are soaked, and he tosses and turns. I shake his shoulders to return him to sense.

  At first, I suspect the fever, but his eyes snap open. “What…Where am I?”

  Before I can answer, he sits up. “Don’t answer; I know.

  Was I having a flashback again?”

  I chuckle curtly. “Is that what you call it? You scared the life out of my sisters and me!”

  “Sorry. I have bad nightmares about my time in the military before I got a desk position. My time in the field wasn’t pleasant. I thought I finished with them, but maybe the fever or tea made them worse.”

  The patter of footsteps reminds me of the twins. “It’s alright, girls. Dmitri had a nightmare.”

  They come around the corner and stand in the door- frame.

  “Come into the kitchen and I’ll mix up something to help you stay asleep, for all our sakes. Girls, go back to bed. Everything’s alright.”

  Once they disappear back down the hall, Dmitri says, “Perhaps you can put the gun away now?”

  I still clutch the pistol in my hand. I place it on his nightstand as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I turn away after a good look. What girl wouldn’t admire that chiseled chest? The rea- son I turn away is so he doesn’t see my stupid grin.

  He curses. “My leg locked up again.”

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  “What?”

  “My leg…Turn around and I’ll show you.” I face him again, and he holds out an arm.

  “Help me on my feet, and don’t let go,” he says wrap- ping an arm over my shoulders. He’s heavy, but I manage to help him to his feet. “Pull down my pants.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He huffs. “Pull them down. I’ve got boxers on.” “If this is some sort of perverted move-”

  “Pull them off. I’m going to hold on to the bedpost for support. I swear this isn’t what it seems like.”

  If it is, the pistol is within arm’s reach.

  Channeling the little bit of inner courage I have left in the dark hours of the night, I slip my fingers into his waistband and pull down, careful not to bring the boxers with it. When I wrangle his pants to his knees, he lowers onto the edge of the bed and lifts his left leg. I slip the pants off and stop when I look up at the freed leg.

  His leg is made of metal from the knee down. This close to his leg, I hear a soft humming noise beneath the sur- face. It’s cold to the touch.

  “You hear the motor. If it gets close to overheating, it kicks in. Happens when I have a fever or my temperature is up for any reason.”

  “Wha…What caused this?”

  “A military related accident. The gears lock up some- times, and right now it’s the right leg.”

  “How do you fix it?”

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “I try hitting it, or most often I used to call my doctor back in the capital.” He moves his hands underneath the stiff leg, pulling it a foot or so in the air. He drops it, let- ting it bounce loudly against the worn wood floor. He groans. “Not working.”

  He slides his hands below his kneecap, sliding open a compartment. It reveals an intricate set of gears.

  “Might I try repairing your leg?” I ask. “Clocks are made of gears, and I have experience with those.”

  “Go ahead. You can’t
do more damage.”

  Fetching my tools from the kitchen, I settle onto the floor on my knees. He’s quiet as I work, giving me plenty of space to focus. The contraption’s complicated beyond all the clocks I’ve worked with, but after ten minutes of study, I notice a hairline dent in the out ring of one of the gears.

  “Here’s the problem.” I take the gear out after a little jiggling and tinkering. Holding it up to the light, I guess the size.

  “Can you replace it? I’d like to walk and not wait weeks for a replacement,” he says.

  “I have one that can work for the time being. I’ll send for the right one tomorrow, and I suggest no marathons or running until it’s properly fixed.”

  His teasing smile returns. “No marathons guaranteed.” Once I finish, I shut the compartment and gather my tools while he flexes the leg trying it out. “I’ll make the

  sleeping remedy, then leave you.”

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  As I turn to go, he reaches out and clasps my hand. “This may sound inappropriate, but stay tonight? My nightmares are worse when alone. I always slept in a room with my siblings, and then in the military, I shared rooms. This is the first time I’ve had a room to myself. I’ll sleep on the floor, and you might have the bed. I need another human in the room.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  If my parents came home early and found us, no matter how innocent, it would be horrible. I’m sensible. A young man and woman in a room alone together? I’d become the gossip of the town if it got out, and not in a good way.

  But a part of me wants to help. I despise others in pain, especially when it’s tied to events of their past. I’ve had my share of nightmares over my father’s death. More than one night I lay in bed, clutching the blankets up almost to my nose terrified my father’s ghost might haunt me.

  A loud boom breaks the still night. “What was that?” he asks.

  I sigh. “Thunder, or most likely they’re dynamiting out new tunnels in the mines. They do that a lot this time a year. It will end in a week or less.”

  “At this hour too?” “Work must be done.”

  My sisters come squealing down the hall, running to me and clutching me tight.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “They hate the noise.” I set a hand on each of their heads and holding them tight. “Come, darlings. Dmitri will come with us. Would you like that?”

  “Yes!” Liliya says while Catryn nods.

  “Go to your beds. I’ll fetch a sleeping mix for all of us.

  If we’re to get any rest, we’ll need it,” I say. Another boom echoes through the night.

  The girls hug me tighter. “Bring your blanket into the twins’ room and sleep on the floor. Be gone by morning. I could use help keeping Liliya and Catryn calm. They get cranky when they don’t sleep.”

  “Do not!” Catryn wails.

  It takes a while, but as Dmitri settles a blanket and pil- low at the foot of our three beds, I mix up the sleeping draught. Once we drink it, it takes almost an hour before the twins drift off. Though reluctant to give in to his re- quest, I’m glad I agreed. Not only does he drift off about the same time as the twins, but he’s a wonderful storyteller and entertains the girls.

  I lay staring at the ceiling and listening to the snoring of those around me. The explosions continue, but I’m used to them after all the years growing up here. I lay awake not from noise, but butterflies in my stomach.

  I’d like to think I feel nothing for Dmitri, but his smiles turn me into a blushing mess. I try to convince myself it’s friendship, but I’ve never felt this way for a friend.

  And the worst part is he’ll likely never know how I feel, like the few other boys I’ve cared for.

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  s

  The next morning, I wake up to a smell I know well. Something burning.

  I jolt out of bed expecting to see my sisters gone. They sometimes attempt to cook breakfast to surprise my parents or me and it rarely ends well.

  But my sisters are asleep, dead to the world. Dmitri, however, is gone, wrinkled blankets left in his place.

  Tiptoeing to the kitchen, I find him at the stove. “Good morning,” he says upon seeing me.

  I wipe the sleep from my eyes and clutch my shawl closer. “What’s burning?”

  “Sorry about that. The first piece of toast burned.” He places his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to have break- fast ready for you and your sisters in return for last night. My cooking is…out of practice, however.”

  “You shouldn’t be cooking anyway with the sweating fever. Sit down and drink some water.”

  “I’m feeling better today, but I took your advice and took the day off. I thought we could go to lunch at the restaurant or…something. I’ve saved up a little and wouldn’t mind treating.”

  My attention moves to the porridge boiling on the stove and the toast on the verge of burning. Stirring the porridge and moving it to a lower heat, I hide my increas- ing blush and trembling hands. I’d love to do that, but

  Alexa Mackintosh

  I’m not going to make a fool of myself for a boy I’ve known two minutes.

  “Why not wake my sisters and ask them what they wish to do? I’ll finish breakfast, and you can recover.”

  He does as I ask, moving down the hall to their room.

  The rest of the day we spend about town visiting shops and eating at the restaurant we rarely go to. Dmitri buys trinkets for the twins and tries to buy something for me besides lunch, but I outright refuse. I’ll not let him spend his hard-earned money on me.

  However, he’s persistent, and I give in to a book I’ve had my eye on for some time.

  And at the end of the day, I know beyond a doubt that I feel something for him far beyond friendship, and per- haps beyond what I’ve felt for any of the young men who’ve caught my eye.

  { 4 }

  Chapter 4

  wo Months Later:

  ANGELICA BURSTS INTO THE KITCHEN. “Petrov

  asked me to the opera the night of the Zenith party! He’s taking me to see Romeo and Juliet before we go to the party.”

  Ugh.

  I fake excitement. “That should be fun.”

  The Zenith celebration is held every year when Rhian- non, our neighboring planet, and ours align. It occurs every mid to late spring, and though the entire planet holds celebrations, our village holds a party especially for everyone sixteen to twenty. It’s the social event of the year for anyone young, dressing up and going with their dates. But when I went last year, I went alone and awkwardly stayed near the food tables, munching for an hour or two until I grew sick of it all and left.

  Alexa Mackintosh She clasps my arm. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Who are you going with?” I scoff. “No one.”

  “But everyone has a date! You can’t attend with Petrov and me unless you go with someone. Can’t you ask a guy from the mines?”

  I whisk the batter I’m making for dinner until it begins to peak. I’ve taken it too far and now must add a few in- gredients to save it. “I don’t have anyone to ask. Stop ask- ing.”

  She silences for a moment. “I’ll find you someone.” “Don’t you dare!” But inside I’m relieved. I’ve never

  been good at the entire dating thing. It comes to Angelica like a special power. I turn into an idiot around guys. Yes, I work with them, but that’s different. They’re fellow workers then.

  “I’ll take care of the details.” I feign offense. “Fine.”

  I want to thank her. Almost everyone goes to the deb- utant party with someone. I could go alone if I needed too; I’m strong enough. But it’s the one night where I can pre- tend to be something else. I can dress up and pretend to be a Second or maybe even a First. For one night, I can pretend my life is magical.

  It’s foolish, but it’s the last great thing before Angelica and I leave our pasts behind. She’ll go on her mission, and I’ll move to another village and open
a bakery.

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  Dmitri walks in, and I move to save the batter.

  But Angelica doesn’t miss my rising blush and increas- ing breaths. “Dmitri,” she asks. “How old are you?”

  “Angelica!” I reprimand. However, I do wonder. “Eighteen, miss,” he answers surprised.

  I thought he must be twenty.

  “Will you take Natalia to the Zenith party on the Sat- urday two weeks from now?” she continues.

  He glances in my direction. “Yes, if you are alright with it, Talia.”

  My heart skips. “I’d like that.”

  “Are you going as friends or,” Angelica grins, “more?”

  To my surprise, neither Dmitri or I answer. We fumble a bit, and finally I answer, “Friends.”

  Dmitri didn’t immediately reject ‘more.’ That’s some- thing.

  “She’ll wear emerald or a dark forest green gown, so you should get a waistcoat to match,” Angelica says all fashionista. “Isn’t that right?”

  I nod. I’ve been eyeing a green, silk gown in her mother’s shop for months. She’s graciously put it on hold while I make payments to her.

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  Two Weeks Later:

  Alexa Mackintosh

  I stand in front of the mirror fiddling with the skirt of my gown and fixing my makeup. Dmitri is a wall away getting dressed. I can hear him from time to time through the thin walls.

  I’m terrified this will be a disaster. I make such a fool of myself when nervous and, Universes, I’m trembling.

  After one last deep breath, I exit the room and head for the kitchen. As I round the corner to the kitchen, I collide with Dmitri.