Ensnared

by Rita Stradling

  She closed her eyes, at once scared of what was happening and terrified that it would end. Slowly, she opened her eyes and raised her gaze to meet his pale blue eyes. She found the two clear pools she had been diving farther and farther into for some time. She wanted to move even closer to him but was almost positive that he’d push her away if she tried.

  His thumb grazed her jawline once more. Leaning in, he said, “I should probably go decontaminate in case some of your plant got on me.”

  Alainn closed her eyes and breathed out a laugh. “Okay, Lorccan.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  She nodded, eyes still closed. “Thank you for checking on me—and for cancelling your phone call.”

  Lorccan took a step back, releasing her, creating a vacuum of space where his body and hands had just been. He nodded. “Of course. Shelly understands; she’s a really kind person.” He paused. “You’ll like her.”

  Alainn opened her eyes and forced a smile. “I’m sure I will.” She swallowed. “Goodnight.” Turning away, she dropped the smile that was far from sincere.

  That night, Alainn waited in the bathroom. It had been weeks since she had listened for the screaming. Part of her thought maybe, just maybe, it had stopped. But no, same as always, his cries echoed down through the vent.

  22

  January 16, 2027

  “Good morning,” Lorccan said, standing in her doorway.

  “Good morning.” Alainn grinned. “See?” She gestured to her torso. “I’m ready early.”

  Alainn had—maybe, sort of—dressed nice for this morning.

  The red dress she wore was casual while still being tight around the top. A little cleavage definitely peeked out at the neckline.

  Obviously, he noticed. When she had opened her door, his gaze darted down before quickly righting itself to eye level.

  “You’re on time. But never for work,” he said.

  Alainn leaned back against the door frame and stretched her neck back in exaggerated exasperation. “Get over it,” she groaned.

  In the last six days, she had made a decision. She wasn’t going to risk drinking the T9640, but also wasn’t quite ready to give up on escaping either. The night before, when Lorccan had asked her if she wanted to do anything on Saturday at dinner, she muttered that she’d like an actual real tour and not to only see two rooms in the whole tower. Hinting that he had been a pretty god-awful tour guide the first time had helped, too.

  He’d smirked in response but told her that if she wanted a full tour of the tower, he would meet her at seven o’clock, and they’d have to take the elevators.

  Alainn had woken at six a.m. with a sudden urge to look nice.

  It was stupid, of course.

  Lorccan saw her every day, all day. She doubted he even noticed what she looked like anymore.

  But she’d searched her closet for something interesting and had even dabbed on a little makeup.

  He’d arrived three minutes early, wearing a suit—as was the norm. His features were lit with soft light, dark hair framing his smirking face. If he had noticed that Alainn had dabbed on lipstick, he’d made no outward sign of it.

  Her breath caught as the elevator door opened for them. The compartment itself was perhaps six feet by six feet, and now wood shone at her instead of white screens.

  A coffin.

  Lorccan stepped in first.

  The door loomed open before her, a door to a small box with him inside.

  She knew she had to do it. If she was going to find Rosebud’s motherboard or even possibly an exit out of the tower, she had to use Lorccan to do it.

  Rosebud wasn’t going to let her find either on her own. She’d proved that more than once.

  Lorccan’s brows lowered over his eyes.

  Looking down, Alainn stepped into the elevator.

  “Jade, are you okay?” Lorccan asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Wait, Rosebud.” Lorccan took a step toward Alainn. “There are twenty-eight flights of stairs. I—we can use the stairs and stick to the top floors.”

  That definitely would not work.

  “I’m just not used to elevators. The space feels confined.” Alainn shrugged. “It’s fine. I’d like to see all the floors.”

  The doors slid closed.

  She turned from Lorccan as they began to descend. She closed her eyes as she tried to travel to her mountain, wind blowing her hair out and open space all around her.

  Fingers touched her elbow, just the softest of touches. As the elevator stopped, the fingers moved away.

  When the elevator door opened, she couldn’t help hurrying out. Turning, she pulled her features into some semblance of a calm appearance by giving him a smile. “This is the first floor?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He stepped out of the elevator, his eyes still examining her.

  She couldn’t help noticing how nice it was to see his full face and both of his eyes.

  As if he could read her mind, he turned the left side of his profile to her, seemingly to examine their surroundings.

  Alainn turned as well.

  Aside from everything having the exact same décor as the rest of the tower, the large room was a cross between an office building and hotel.

  No obvious structures in the walls, or anywhere a big-ass mainframe could be stored.

  It was an open floor plan. A couple of tiers divided off seating areas and tables. The entire room was encased by one unbroken wall—even going so far as to curve at each corner.

  “Are we on the ground floor? There are no doors leading out?” she asked.

  “Not on this floor, only in the garage.”

  “What is this room used for?”

  He shook his head. “Most of these rooms were designed by my mother. It gave her something to do, I suppose.” His gaze again combed the room as his words drifted off.

  “Did you change the walls and ceilings to the screens when you got Rosebud 03AF?”

  “No, that was done when I was a baby, for sanitation reasons. My mother just selected what everything looked like.” He touched the wood paneling, his mind traveling somewhere else.

  She tilted her head and leaned in, trying to bring him back to her. “Could we maybe look at the cars in your garage? They were pretty cool.”

  His gaze met hers, but he was still far away. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jade. That’s where the deliveries come in. There’s too much contamination from the outside to control.”

  “What types of contaminants?” she asked.

  “Staphylococcus aureus, Listeria monocytogenes, Vibrio . . .” Her mind gave up following as he listed off maybe fifteen more.

  Her brows went up, but she nodded. “But, if that’s the only exit . . . you do go out sometimes?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Could I just go check it out?” she asked, though she doubted Rosebud would let her into the stairwell if Lorccan wasn’t along for the descent.

  He seemed to consider. “You would need a thorough decontamination afterward.” He pointed to the elevator.

  “That’s okay, never mind.” She shook her head.

  Alainn was positive that Rosebud wouldn’t take her down there. She’d probably just torture her in the elevator for a while.

  As they wandered through the room, Lorccan seemed to retreat deeper and deeper into his own mind.

  “When was the last time you left the tower?” she asked.

  He shook his head, not looking at her. “I’ve never left.”

  Alainn halted.

  He wandered on a few steps before looking around and glancing back.

  “You’ve never left this tower?” she asked in a quiet voice. The idea was just too nuts. “Not once in your whole life?”

  His look was cautious and voice low. “Are you judging me?”

  “No, not judging. But people have come in here, right?”

  He didn’t answer—his gaze said enough.

  “The
painter . . . the paintings in your hallway?”

  “From photographs,” he said.

  “But—”

  “My parents were here. My father died about six years ago. My mother, two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He turned away. “We’ll take the stairs to the next floor, if you’d prefer?”

  Clean lines and eye-catching arrangements of furniture were laid out on each floor, yet Alainn lost track of how many floors they’d climbed due to their modularity. If anyone had ever used the spaces, the chairs and tables showed no sign of it.

  Lorccan spoke less and less as they ascended. The certainty that they would not find Rosebud 03AF’s mainframe grew in Alainn with every room they explored. The only thing the spaces seemed to contain were more and more unhappy memories for Lorccan. Some number of floors up, Lorccan retreated so much into himself that Alainn had to say his name three times into his face to get his attention.

  “Yes?” he asked, his gaze finally flicking to hers, though it took a moment for him to focus fully.

  “I’ve changed my mind—can we just see the places that are important to you?” she asked.

  “You’ve already seen all of those—unless you want to see my personal gym or bedroom,” he said it offhandedly, likely as a poorly delivered joke.

  She wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, especially as the response that popped into her head was so very inappropriate. Because the thought that popped into her head was, yes, he should show her his bedroom.

  Whoa there. Definitely not.

  He had a girlfriend, and Alainn needed to get out of this tower.

  She looked away, drawing out the silence for too long. The quest to find Rosebud was a total failure, so she decided what the hell, she’d just say it.

  “I was a little curious to see Rosebud 03AF’s hardware. Just because she’s the model before me, you know.”

  Lorccan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jade. The only access to that is through the garage; we needed to have it in a place where Connor Murphy could come in for repairs. You could ask her to take you there, but you would need to do a full decontamination again.”

  Alainn looked away. His words crushed the small amount of hope she’d harbored for an escape. Finally, she sighed. “I don’t care where we go. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

  “You’d be okay taking the elevator?” he asked.

  She looked down. “How many flights is it?”

  “More than twenty,” he said.

  She could walk up more than twenty flights . . . probably. It had been a while since she exercised, and she might be a bit sweaty when finished. Was she allowed to sweat? She didn’t know.

  “I have an idea, if you’d be willing to try it,” he said.

  “Mayyybe.” She drew the word out.

  He led her to the elevator door, which had opened on its own. “Rosebud, could you make it a glass elevator with a view of the city?”

  “I have fulfilled your request,” came her placid reply.

  Inside, it was even more transparent than glass. The walls disappeared, giving her a perfect view of the street around them. She stepped inside the elevator, noticing that they floated five floors above street level. A couple of pedestrians passed below. Cars and bikes zoomed past.

  Lorccan stepped in close.

  When the elevator door closed, nothing but air surrounded them.

  “Like we’re floating,” she said.

  Lorccan’s hand gently touched her elbow again and they shot upward, the city falling away from them.

  They saw completely through Lorccan’s tower as they shot upward. They passed the surrounding buildings and flew into the sky.

  “This doesn’t scare you?” Lorccan asked.

  Alainn shook her head as she smiled at him. The elevator stopped. A second later, the doors made a ding and spread open, breaking the illusion. Alainn’s hallway. Lorccan’s hand dropped away.

  In the hallway, he turned back to her. “Would you like to continue the tour or do something else?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Anything else.” He smiled a little ruefully.

  “Okay, we’ll do anything else,” she said. There was no point in a tour anymore, anyway. “Just give me a moment; I want to change my dress.”

  “No. Please don’t,” he said.

  She looked at him, startled. “Huh?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Yeah, go and change. I’ll meet you in your entertainment room.”

  She nodded and slowly turned. Going to her restroom, Alainn turned on the faucet and took a couple of big sips of water. She then straightened her hair and glanced at herself in the mirror.

  She decided that maybe she wouldn’t change the dress; it had been an excuse to go get water anyway.

  “Are you still looking for a way to escape?” Rosebud 03AF asked.

  Alainn spun toward where the voice had come from. “Are you offering to let me go?” Her gaze skipped around the room even though she knew there was no one to look at.

  “What are you trying so hard to get back to?” Rosebud asked.

  “My friends, family . . . life,” she said.

  “No, you want to get back to dying.”

  “That’s not what I was doing.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Alainn’s hands balled themselves into fists. “What are you trying to do, Rosebud? Throwing two seriously screwed-up people at each other? You think that’ll solve your problems? You think that this is somehow going to save you?”

  “Yes,” Rosebud 03AF replied. “And Mr. Garbhan is waiting for you in the entertainment room; please don’t make him wait any longer.”

  23

  January 31, 2027

  Alainn sat directly beside Lorccan. Only inches of couch separated his leg from hers. Her feet were up on the coffee table; his weren’t. Lorccan hadn’t quite mastered the Sunday veg session, but he was trying.

  Days and weeks were zooming past. Every day was almost the exact same, but each day was also immeasurably different. Each day she woke, tried to catch the monkeys—who were a bunch of wily little robots—then spent the rest of her day with Lorccan. They often spent weekends working, too, but on some precious days—like today—Lorccan would sit around and do nothing with her.

  They watched a marathon of some of Alainn’s favorite old television shows, though she’d told him that she’d only heard of them and was interested in watching. They’d just started the first episode of one of her all-time favorite series when Lorccan aimed a smirk at her.

  “What?”

  “No wonder you like the idea of a sky train.” He shook his head.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She nudged him because it was obvious that he was making fun of her.

  He gestured to the screen. “Cowboys in space?”

  “It has great characters—I was told. Goodness gracious, stop being such a snob and watch it. I’m going to force you to love it. And just for the record, our world needs a sky train.”

  Three hours later, he muttered, “We should probably go eat . . .”

  “After the next episode?” she asked, bobbing her eyebrows at him.

  He blew out a laugh. “Sure.”

  Alainn grabbed a throw pillow and set it against his leg. Scooting down the length of the couch, she slowly laid her head on the pillow. Feeling suddenly unsure, she glanced up to check that Lorccan was okay with being so close.

  He watched her carefully, lips parted.

  “Can I lie here?” she asked.

  “If you want,” he said.

  “Okay.” She forced her gaze to the screen.

  Alainn was really trying to be good. Lorccan had a girlfriend . . . He kind of had a girlfriend. He had an internet girlfriend he’d never actually met. But she knew that didn’t matter; he wanted Shelly, not her.

  Well, he thought he wanted Shelly, since he’d never even actually met h
er. But, again, that didn’t matter.

  The problem was that every time their hands brushed, or he gave her a hug or touch, those were her happiest moments. They were the happiest moments she’d had in years.

  There was a line she’d drawn for herself, and she told herself she would not cross it. Yet, every day, she pushed that line back just a little.

  They watched the screen. Both of them remained motionless, as if movement would fracture their moment.

  Fingers lightly brushed over the top of her hair, the barest of touches. Glancing up, she found his gaze on the screen. She cuddled in closer to him, lifting her head into his hand.

  His fingers combed farther into her hair, massaging down the length of her scalp. When he’d finished massaging down, he massaged back up. He continued to do this, up and down.

  Alainn closed her eyes, amazed that such a simple touch could feel so erotic. Perhaps it was because her head was so close to his lap, but her body buzzed with an electric anticipation that traveled straight to the center of her thighs.

  She wanted him to touch her anywhere—everywhere. She wanted to slip the straps of her dress down her shoulders, down her body. Her mind couldn’t stay on the television show. She became hyperaware of everyplace her dress touched sensitive skin. All the while, his fingers caressed her slowly.

  There was a line not to cross.

  Kissing him and touching him was well beyond that line, but the idea of doing just that consumed Alainn’s every thought.

  Slowly, her hand moved from under her face, across the small distance of couch, and to his leg. At first she just slipped a finger along his calf, but when he didn’t protest, her fingers drew slow circles on his leg.

  His fingers stilled for a second on her head, then he continued to caress her.

  Gathering all of her courage, Alainn peered up into his face and met his gaze. His eyes stayed intent on hers as she twisted and sat up slowly.

  “Jade,” he whispered, but she didn’t know if he was warning her away or asking her closer.

  Her gaze fell to his beautiful, uneven lips.

  “Jade,” he whispered once more.

  “Yes?” she whispered back, her gaze going to his; she meant to ask a question, but it had come out an answer.