A knock at the door pulls me away from my thoughts. I tense, wondering if this will be the day Jonathan or Daniel tries to kill me. Or perhaps Icarus sent someone himself. I close the book in my hand as Mrs. Whitmore passes by the room, her brisk steps carrying her toward the front. When she opens the door, I strain to hear her converse with the visitor, debating whether or not I should sneak toward the foyer. A familiar voice forces me up from my seat. I arrive at the doorway in time to see Mrs. Whitmore turn from our guest and walk away with a blank expression on her face.
Icarus removes his hat and beams at me. His words from our last encounter float up and fill me with dread. He’d said I owed him. What will he ask me to do? My panic rises, forcing my blood to rush through my veins. I take hold of my fear and crush it within my fist.
I strengthen the barriers surrounding my mind and glare at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to treat a guest, Moira?”
A slight twitch seizes the left side of his face, and his annoyance worms into the air. The formality in his voice reminds me we’re not alone.
His gaze flicks behind me and trails up the stairs. “Where is Detective Edwards?”
I narrow my eyes and step in front of his line of sight. My mouth opens with a demand ready to fly from my lips, but the door on my right swings open. The detective appears, and his gaze flits away from my face and lands on Icarus. Black wisps of suspicion snake out from his body. I glance sideways at Icarus, knowing now that he can see them, too.
“Good evening, Mr. Hayes.” The detective steps out into the hallway and approaches my side. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Icarus’s affability vanishes and, in its place, stands a man I’ve only glimpsed once or twice. The Phoenix.
“Ah, there you are.” His voice changes, deepening into the tones of manipulation. “You will forget my presence here tonight and return to your study and remain there until Moira retrieves you.”
The detective’s expression smooths into blind obedience. He turns away from us without hesitation and enters his study, closing the door behind him. His vulnerability causes something inside me to break, and I bite down on the pain before it can slip from between my lips. Icarus had entered his mind with such ease and authority. A possibility I never considered before taunts me. Are there other empaths like him, walking freely and unmarked?
Icarus focuses back on me. “There. Now we can speak in private. Shall we?”
He walks past me and enters the parlour room, removing his coat and hat, as if we were old friends enjoying a moment of reunion. His calm infuriates me, and I storm into the room after him. Through the haze of my anger, I realize he could end my life right here and no one would stop him. My thoughts drift to the incomplete brick wall inside my mind. Rage and panic converge, forming plump clouds above my landscape. If only Scott had spent more time teaching me how to block.
Delight tilts his lips up as he trails a finger down the side of my cheek. “I can taste your fear. I thought once you regained your memories, you would recall we were allies once.”
Anxiety spikes through me. I need to stop him from reading me so easily. But how? All this time, he’s kept his identity a secret. The wall in his mind had hidden his layout, but he had also used his own emotions against me. He had distracted me with his desire, similar to how I had used my anger to conceal my thoughts from him during our last encounter. I had succeeded once, so there’s no reason it can’t work again. With a deep breath, I summon the anger from within, letting it consume my landscape. Molten lava races up the stairs and creeps across the grass.
I exhale the heat of my rage on him. “The memory of your betrayal is too fresh in my mind.”
“I see your feelings haven’t changed.” His expression hardens, and he lowers his hand. “How interesting, considering it is your betrayal that is all too fresh in my mind.”
My eyes widen as flames leap from the lava’s surface. “My betrayal?”
“Keep your voice down—”
“You took away my memories!”
My loud voice resonates with the hum inside my head.
He clenches his jaw and steps back. “Like I said the last time we spoke, it was necessary and the only way to protect you.”
“You mean to defend you. And when that wasn’t enough, you threw me into jail to be executed.” A voice inside warns me not to go any further, but the rage continues to pour forth. “Is that what you wanted? For me to die?”
Once the question is out, my shoulders slump, and the lava recedes back down the stairs. My eyes burn with the beginnings of tears, but a series of rapid blinks holds them at bay. The need to know the answer has plagued me all this time, despite my attempts to ignore it. Just how far did he betray me?
“As always, Moira, your flair for the dramatic has twisted things in your mind. I’m not responsible for throwing you in prison. You did that all on your own. You’re lucky I could get you out. Do I want you to die?” He throws his coat and hat on the couch, a rare slip in control. “I’m the only one keeping you alive!”
My ears ring with the following silence. A hoop of anger pulses around him, brightening with each second that passes. I crawl toward his mind, seeking the truth. The moment I enter, his sincerity envelops me. Despite all of his previous lies, his recent words ring true, which means Jonathan acted on his own. Before I can contemplate further, Icarus enters my mind and manages to catch the tail of my thoughts.
Suspicion deepens his tone. “What about Jonathan?”
“Get out of my mind!”
He ignores my command and eyes the half-formed brick wall. “Are you keeping secrets from me?”
“Like you’ve been doing with me?” I bite back my anxiety and force calm into my voice. “If we’re going to be allies, then you need to respect my barriers. You can’t just enter my mind whenever you wish.”
To prove my point, I slip into his mind. Despite how easy it had been for me to enter, I still stand on the outside of the wall that hides his inner landscape. A low chuckle resounds as he descends the stairs, searching for memories of Jonathan. No matter how hard I try to force him out, he remains and edges closer to the chamber containing memories of Scott. Any moment now, he will discover the truth, and nothing will stop him from seeing everything. My chest rises and falls in rapid succession as my mind drowns in an emotion I rarely allow myself to feel.
I had promised myself I would never be weak ever again. Yet here I am, unable to block him from entering my mind. All of my thoughts and memories lie at his feet—my entire past there for his perusal. What should be, by fault, my own is not even mine. A sickening wave pulls me off balance as desperation leaks from my mind and spills into his landscape.
Icarus halts in front of the door containing my memories of Scott. “Ah, Moira—”
He breaks off, but his thoughts slink toward me. He doesn’t like seeing me this way, defeated, broken, helpless. I rest my hand on the wall inside his mind and lift myself to my feet. Shame threatens to pull me back down, but the sympathy pooling beneath my palm breathes determination into my limbs.
“I don’t need your pity.” My hoarse voice punctuates the silence. “If you don’t like seeing me this way, then you shouldn’t put me in this position. You want me to trust you, yet you treat me as if I were nothing. Trust goes both ways, Icarus.”
A faint sigh escapes him, and he hesitates before the door. His frustration whirls around me, carrying some of his thoughts. He doesn’t understand why I’m angry with him, and had expected everything to return as it had been in the past. Aggravation and suspicion weave into a thread of red and black snaking along his body. He blames my change in behaviour on the detective, not even considering he himself is at fault. My mind runs away with questions. What would have happened if Icarus had purchased me and had let me keep my memories? I suppress those thoughts before they can reach him.
He retreats from my mind, and I let myself fall back into my body. When I look u
p at him, my own wariness reflects in his eyes. Though distrust still hovers around him, he removes his mask of feigned congeniality. His face transforms into an expression akin to my own, making him, oddly enough, a little more accessible.
He sits on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, and smooths his outward appearance into the epitome of calm. “Alright, Moira. I’ll extend you a little trust. Care to enlighten me about what Jonathan did? Or do I need to question him myself?”
I clamp down on my triumph and straighten my spine. “So you’re responsible for the riot yesterday and for Jonathan’s and Daniel’s escape?”
“I told you I would take care of them, as I did with you when you were in prison. I’m the one who told the Elite to offer you freedom in exchange for your help. But that’s not the present issue at the moment.” A crease forms between his brows as his eyes narrow into two slits. “Tell me what happened, or I’ll remove this so-called trust between us.”
I should obey, yet my tongue acquires a mind of its own. “It infuriates you, doesn’t it? The idea your most trusted ally might have acted outside of your orders. That’s the thing with partners, Icarus. An ally isn’t another one of your pawns; they’re your equal.”
A slight twitch in his left eye feeds the victory building inside, and my lips widen into a grin.
“Fascinating.” A blot of crimson taints the space above his head, opposing the blandness of his voice. “Thank you for educating me. Shall we find out which one you are?”
Terror wraps around me and squeezes as he plunges into my mind.
His voice lowers with authority. “Come here.”
The command grasps me by the neck and yanks me forward. I pull in a breath as my feet rush toward him, compelled by his words. Resistance courses through my veins, attempting to wash away the remnants of his persuasion, but he drowns it out with another order.
“Kneel.”
My knees buckle, making me fall to the floor as my legs fold beneath me.
Just before I hit the ground, words fly from my mouth. “I hate you.”
My lower lip curls and twists into a deep scowl as I kneel before him like a slave. An image of me rising from the floor and overpowering him flashes in my mind. His lips tighten in disapproval, and a band of dark blue appears above him like a halo. He leans forward and runs his thumb along the length of my lips. To my dismay, his amber eyes soften.
A derisive voice mocks me from deep inside. I thought you were the stronger one. Where’s your strength now? Admit it, you’re only as strong as your weakest link. And that weakness isn’t me. It’s your ego.
A tremor possesses my body as hot liquid pools over my landscape. She’s wrong, and eventually, I’ll prove it. I glare up at him and will my hatred to break his hold, but his words stab through the red haze clouding my vision.
“You don’t hate me. You hate the fact you once loved me, and love like that doesn’t vanish whenever you wish. I understand more than you think. You feel betrayed, hurt. And instead of admitting it, you’ve turned your pain into anger.” He leans forward and whispers into my ear. “It’s what you do, Moira.”
He kisses my neck and, with his touch, a horde of memories swarm my mind. Images of us together flash before me: a passionate kiss, an embrace, a caress, soft spoken words of affection, and his vow to keep me safe. Along with the visions of our past, a surge of forgotten emotions pours into me. Desperation. Need. Possession. His lips leave my neck and seize my mouth while his hands grip my hips and pull me closer.
“I love you, Moira.”
I push him away in a playful gesture, but my heart lifts with his admission. “You tell all your women that. Do they fall at your feet, Mr. Hayes?”
The hint of jealousy in my voice elicits a smile on his lips, and he pulls me closer so I’m lying on his chest.
He pushes my hair behind my ear. “I like that you get jealous.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t.”
His grin widens, and an amused chuckle rumbles through his chest.
I thrust the memory away, peeling the image like a second layer of skin. The vision resists, demanding me to remember. Icarus’s tongue and lips trail down my neck, igniting a fire inside me—an inferno kindled by an old desire and my newfound rage. The smoke billows up, threatening to suffocate me, and my blood pulses through me like molten lava. Despite everything, he’s right. Just because I thought I loved him, it doesn’t mean the love was true. But even though my mind acknowledges this, my body fails to understand. It still wants.
It still hurts.
“Icarus, stop.” And with that demand comes a dangerous plea. “Please.”
His sigh is poison against my neck, scorching my skin into a patch of welts. He leans back against the sofa and releases me. Triumph flares in his eyes, a harsh divergence from the soft blue and pink wisps floating around him. The inferno inside still boils, but I focus on the only thing that will get him out of here.
“Why have you come here?”
I wince at the hoarseness of my voice.
“I need you to do me a little favour. It shouldn’t be a problem if we’re allies.” He pauses and narrows his eyes. “But if we’re not, then I will force your hand.”
“That’s unnecessary.” My jaw tightens as I resist defiance. “I’ll do it.”
His lips curve upwards. “Glad to have you back. Tomorrow, you and the detective will be invited to Mr. Harrison’s house where he and the other members of the Elite plan to discuss the next course of action following Jonathan’s and Daniel’s escape. I, of course, will be there, as well. During that time, you will enter Mr. Harrison’s mind and persuade him to commit suicide that night. Do we understand one another?”
“You expect me to kill the Chief Elite Member?” Disbelief forces a mirthless laugh from my lungs. “And in front of everyone?”
“The answer to your second question is no. You’ll be given an opportunity to approach him in private.” He lifts a brow. “Any other questions?”
A single word slips between my clenched teeth. “No.”
“Wonderful!”
He plants a soft kiss on my lips and rises to his feet. I remain kneeling, staring at the spot before me. I could rise, but I don’t. Let him believe my submission. Let him think he has won the battle and now holds my will in his control. I conjure shame and obedience, weaving the two into my landscape. The former proves easier than the latter, considering I’m drowning in it.
His voice drifts back to me, followed by the distinct prodding of his curiosity.
“Oh, and, Moira? What was it you were going to tell me about Jonathan?”
I rearrange my expression into a shield of calm and turn to face him. “He persuaded me to kill Scott.”
His jaw tenses, and the triumph in his eyes diminishes. Dark clouds of irritation and suspicion billow out around his feet. He’d never known. A smile threatens to break my composure as I imagine Jonathan’s face when Icarus exposes his betrayal.
He places his hat on his head in one swift motion and nods once. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Moira.”
He disappears into the hall, and the sound of the front door opening and closing signals his departure. In his absence, my hands tremble at my sides, and my breath burns its way through my lungs and up my throat where it rushes out of my nose. Shame weighs me down, but I rest my hands on the sofa and push myself up to my feet. Though my pride whimpers, the encounter replays in my mind. My body hums with the remnants of his persuasion, reminding me of my weakness. Doubts bloom, little weeds that pop up in the grass and spread. How can I get rid of him and ensure my safety when his power of persuasion exceeds my own? I tighten my jaw.
When I stomp out of the room and into the hall, my gaze drifts to the closed door across the foyer. Icarus had commanded the detective to stay in his office until I called on him. If I wanted, I could head straight to bed and leave the detective. That way, if I happen to sneak into his room again, he won’t be there to know. My feet slide forward, slinking
toward the stairs, but guilt sticks to my shoes and weighs down my steps. A huff of exasperation leaves me as I stroll toward his office. I can’t leave him there, knowing how it feels to have your will taken away.
Without knocking, I open the door. “I’m tired, so I’m retiring for the night.”
He lifts his head and eyes me from behind his desk. “There’s no need to inform me every night.”
Despite his calm tone, splotches of his vexation colour the air a dark red. When he remains silent, relief courses through me. He has no intention of addressing our previous conversation about us. I turn away, closing the door behind me, and climb up the stairs. Once in my room, I tear my clothes off and throw them across the room. But even with their absence, Icarus’s presence still lingers. His kiss simmers on my tongue, and his persuasion haunts my mind. He’s there, inside, taunting me with his words. And I can’t run away.
But I can promise myself to never let it happen again.
6
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, gliding my gaze over the cobalt fabric covering my body to the bland expression on my face. The beads attached to the dress glitter in the light and clink with the slightest movement. I snatch the white gloves from the dresser and slip them on. The silk fits snugly around my fingers, wrapping them up in a velvety embrace. As Icarus had promised, Mr. Harrison had sent an invitation, requesting mine and the detective’s presence at his estate.
Last night, I had been so preoccupied with building the wall inside my mind that I never spent any energy considering Icarus’s command. But as the moment encroaches closer, my head buzzes with anxiety, planting seeds of doubt. Part of me relishes in the Elite’s fear and the way they scramble for control, the same one that wants the Phoenix to win. But the part of me that knows who the Phoenix is doesn’t want him to succeed. He would never let me live if he knew I had no intention of ever joining him. Hopefully, if I perform this one favour, his success will distract him from continually pestering me.
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