by Emily Shore
I turn away, focusing instead on the second figure, who appears just outside the room. Her sweet legs, blonde hair falling in bubbles of curls to her chest, and transparent gray shift leave little doubt as to why she’s here.
Mockingbird. She tiptoes inside, just behind Luc.
When she removes her dress, I wince and turn away.
Under Sky’s watchful gaze, I retreat to my room. By the way his eyes follow my every footstep, I know he wants to speak to me, but the Aviary is an unbearable labyrinth of barriers between us. It doesn’t seem significant when I add one more by slamming the door in his face.
I don’t want to be lost in my thoughts. More than anything, I want to curl up inside Sky’s arms, but I don’t feel as though I’d fit there the way I used to, despite feeling more drawn to him than ever. I don’t know what to do with this new Sky.
Instead, I read from my mother’s journal. In no particular order, I flip pages, reading from the back.
Sometimes, I worry about Skylar. He has the Family in him, too—almost as much as Serenity. He deals with his anger better than she does, and that’s why he’s good for her. She has a childlike fire. Sky’s fire is earthy, grounded, able to damage but can also be put to good use. It’s why they’ve always worked well together. Lately, I see him trying too hard. Their dynamic isn’t easy for him anymore, and I think I know why. I should’ve been prepared for this. I should’ve known this life wouldn’t be easy for them, bundled up together all the time. Serenity’s such a child. Oblivious to what I see. Too caught up in her own imagination and curiosity.
I realize my anger was a cheap shot at Sky. He doesn’t deserve it, not when he’s spent years respecting my mother’s wishes. Could she have believed that things would always stay the same? That Sky and I would grow up and nothing would change between us? All she did was build a dam. That kiss broke whatever was left. And now, Sky is inside my head, his thunder competing against Luc’s ice.
Sensing another presence in my room, I flinch when I see the figure leaning against the wall with his massive arms crossed over his chest. He dips his head to observe me.
“How did you get in here?” I rise from the bed, but it’s too late. Luc’s brother takes me by the shoulders, forcing me into the closet where the netting of white dresses waits to swallow me whole.
“You are going to keep your flapdoodle trap shut.” Larke presses his head to mine so I can feel his hot breath on my face. “We’re going to take a nice, casual stroll to your exhibit.” He trails a large finger down my throat. My breath escapes in wicked pants. I’m prepared to scream until his firm hand clamps over my mouth.
Larke’s hand voyages down to my waist and lower still. Panting, I feel salt tears gushing from my eyes, but they don’t stem my rage. It bubbles up into my mouth, and I bite his hand. It only startles him.
Larke wags a finger in front of my face, “Naughty birdie. You spied on me earlier. Too curious for your own good. So, you’re going to swim for me, little Swan. Understand?”
He pins me against the back wall, then jerks the strap of my dress down my shoulder to press a thumb to my tattoo.
A snarl hacks through my anger and fear. “Understand this—I will sever your brain stem if I ever catch you touching Swan again. Blood or no blood.”
Rejoicing over the voice, I look over Larke’s shoulder to where Luc is brandishing a knife. Relieved by his presence.
“Release her,” Luc orders.
Larke grumbles but does as he is told.
“Get out. I’ll deal with you later,” Luc says, dragging his brother out of the closet.
Tremors shudder through my body. An earthquake seizes my heart, ready to collapse my lungs, rupture my rib cage.
“Swan.” Softening his voice, he slips the strap of my dress back up my shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” I say, retreating into the clothes behind me. My nerves are still shot, and the touch of another man—even Luc—comes too soon for comfort. “I’m Serenity! Not your Swan.”
Surprised by my behavior, Luc steps forward until Dove sashays past him. Her presence brings the end of the earthquake inside my body, so I don’t crumple in on myself. But I still can’t breathe and I leap into her arms, imagining fresh oxygen is right there.
I sob into her shoulder. Dove settles a hand against my hair and turns to Luc, saying, “Let me be alone with her now.”
“Alert me if she needs a sedative.”
“What she needs is space and a hot bath. Go.”
Dove helps me to the bathroom, setting me down on the tiles while she fills the immense tub with steam and hot water. By now, my cries have weakened to a whimper or two, and the cold of the tiles are a stab of reality again. It seems ridiculous. So foolish to be this upset over one assault when thousands of girls are raped in the Glass Districts every minute.
Dove removes my white dress, and I sink into the water. It’s surprising how much it abates all my nerves. Dove soothes my skin when she soaps my back and massages the skin there.
“Men like Larke are common, Swan. I have to admit I’m impressed by your defense. You drew blood with your bite. An exceptional attempt, but an attempt all the same. I hope you remember that Director Aldaine is here to protect you, to guard you.”
“How many clients did you have?” I ask, diverting the subject from Luc.
She scrubs my hair. “None at first. I was put on trial with private exhibits for the eyes of the director at the time to see if I could be Swan worthy, but no one can become the Swan. One is born the Swan.” Dove tips my head forward so she can reach the ends of my hair. “All your life, she’s been there just waiting for someone to unleash her. Someone like Director Aldaine,” she finishes, and she drops all my wild silver curls back into the water.
“And how many others has he unleashed?”
Dove blinks. “Owl doesn’t fraternize with the Birds here. He treats his Aviary with respect, as well as the Birds inside it.”
I want to believe her, but I know what I saw.
Once the bath is finished, I venture into the cotton robe Dove provides. My blood has stopped boiling. It simmers now, settled enough for Luc to return.
With wary hands folded behind his back and eyes judging me, Luc approaches my bedside before asking, “May I sit down?”
“There.” I point to the end of the bed, far from where I sit at the head.
If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it—unlike Sky, I can’t help but think, who always expresses his frustration with me. “Swan, you must allow me to apologize for the breach in security. I had called a meeting for all my staff and security, and Larke exited early. I had my suspicions regarding his motives. If I had not come when I did, I can’t imagine—”
“Nothing happened,” I almost hiss. “Please don’t make me relive what could have been.”
“Very well.”
I turn to look at the indigo brine inside his eyes. They remind me of the water in my exhibit. No choice but to let it devour me, but beneath the surface, deep in its watery arms—complete escape. Shards of him are in me now. Him and the Aviary. That’s undeniable. Like Sky said before: even if I leave this place, I’ll take the Aviary with me. It’s part of me. I just have to hope I can get out before I become part of it.
“I thought we’d come farther than this silence between us.” Luc waits for me to say something. Too patient. Though always rational and logical, Sky doesn’t have much patience for my antics or silent treatment.
After a few minutes, my restraint crumbles. Under Luc’s eyes, I’m pinned like a butterfly. So, I tell him the truth. “I followed you.”
“When?”
“To the bathhouse.”
“You weren’t the only one.” He doesn’t bother denying it. “Mockingbird attaches herself to certain people. She has latched on to me—perhaps because I rescued her as a babe. But I have found many Birds, and I have rescued many. Mockingbird simply has a proud, if not deluded, sense of entitlement because she was the firs
t.”
He pauses, sighs, and drags a hand down his face. “When clinical inspections are performed, I monitor them. I inspect each Bird to ensure their weight, appearance, and aging falls into the correct parameters.” He trails on, using his fancy language, but I know what he means. He checks them to make sure they still look beautiful enough. “Mockingbird’s inspection time was due, but she chose an unprofessional environment to approach me,” he explains.
“You are the only one who has saved me,” he admits, moving closer. “But every time you look at me, I feel like some worm wriggling on a hook. At times, I even consider releasing you. But…” He slows, his chilled fingers curving over my cheeks like hoarfrost. “That would mean letting you go.”
Our second kiss is different from the first.
His mouth is more like fog as it seeks mine, light, entering to taste my secrets. When I kiss him back, I don’t give him all of myself. Instead, I taste him on the surface. I take in all his scent from the cologne that hints of fresh water and an early winter dawn. Not one trace of warmth to speak of—no heated spices, no woodiness, no hearty musk. Luc is all pressed linens and cotton tufts. He’s like a snowdrift seeking somewhere to settle, and for the first time, I want him to settle here, with me. I wonder—
No, I remember Breakables. I remember my parents. I remember Sky.
He pulls back and pauses. “I will go to extreme lengths to protect you, Swan. Especially given what has recently transpired. I must tell you that Flamingo has passed away. She went quickly, peacefully, from her coma. I’m still rooting out the source.”
I push myself against the bed frame, then draw my knees into my chest. I don’t know what to say. His eyes have lost any trace of intensity. In fact, they seem hollow.
“I’m…sorry, Luc.”
He sighs as if annoyed by my continued refusal to call him “Owl,” but he doesn’t correct me this time. “Tomorrow is the day of physicals,” he informs me. “I hold them each month for my Birds. It’s important to my father that Guild-owned Birds are healthy, too.”
“And do I still belong to the Guild? Or could the Temple take me from here at the auction?” I almost say, ‘Take me from you.’
Luc peers at the sheets, then back to me. “Is that tonight’s question?”
“No. That question doesn’t have anything to do with you. I have a right to know what will become of me.”
“You’re right. And I don’t wish to lie to you. The Temple has a chance in the upcoming auction, but I’m doing everything in my power to see that you stay here.”
“So, an international client could…?” I wince at the same time a snarl erupts from Luc’s throat. I still can’t help but interrupt, “It’s not up to you, though, is it? It’s up to your father.”
He doesn’t bother to deny it, but he doesn’t confirm it either. “The Temple has a better chance than any client. They are the ultimate museum, and we could never hope to surpass them. My father wants the best deal, of course. But deliberations could last weeks, perhaps months. A blood feud would not be in the interest of either Family. They will take their time to avoid it.”
I don’t speak, just trace the fringes of the cotton on my knees. “If you can’t let me go now, how could you let me go to them?”
“Ahhh.” I hear the knowing sigh in Luc’s voice. “How far will I go to keep you? Is the life of one girl worth the sacrifice of all the others? What are my boundaries?”
I wring the sheets at my legs. “I have my own boundaries.”
Luc feathers his fingers across the backs of my knuckles, saying gently, “Yes, I’ve watched your boundaries, and I’ve seen them fall twice now.” I know he refers to the two kisses.
Even if my spirit hangs loose off my body, I’ve always worn my innocence like a glove. An armored glove. All my life, I’ve daydreamed of a world where women command respect from men. Where men don’t take advantage of the war raging with hormones as our feelings betray us. Luc knows just how to loosen my glove. Like many men in his profession, he takes advantage, knows every way to manipulate. Is it just a trick of the mind when he leaves the choice in my hands? It’s getting harder to hold on.
My body is betraying me, forming a gap between it and my willpower. The Aviary doesn’t help. This place brings out the best and worst of me: the emotional extremes. My mother was Temple-born, so I can’t fault her for how simple it was to become the Unicorn. But I should be better at keeping one foot on solid ground. I shouldn’t fall for Luc’s grooming methods.
“What else do you want to ask before I leave?” Luc offers, easing closer.
I don’t hesitate. “Have you ever slept with a Bird?”
Luc isn’t offended by my question, but he does hesitate before answering, eyes narrowing. “Yes. Before my time as director, I slept with a Bird. I was a repeat client between my assignments. And I used to interact on a more…personal level with my Birds. But not since you.”
“Who was she?”
“Now, that is another question. Perhaps you should save it.”
“Is she still here?”
“Swan.” Luc pinches his brows together. “It’s my turn,” he reminds me. “Considering your question, I believe I’m entitled to a personal one. What do you believe about love and sex?”
I inhale and plant my hands on either side of me, grounding myself. “I’ve seen love in my parents’ eyes. That’s the kind of love I want for myself. Love has always been deep to them.”
“And sex?”
“I can’t imagine having one without the other. After all, no one can have sex without forming some sort of bond. It’s more than just physical. It’s chemical. Feelings, emotions…they get all twisted up together like ropes. Even if you never see that person again, you still carry their ghost everywhere.”
“People must carry many ghosts with them.”
I nod, pondering the Breakables in the Glass District. How they must carry the ghost of every man who has stepped beyond their windows. How those men carry each girl inside them—taking pieces of their hearts—whether they realize it or not.
I steel myself. “I’ve never wanted anyone under my skin. I don’t want to be anyone’s ghost. I never have.”
Forget ghosts. I have demons to reckon with. Sky’s worked hard to fight those demons with me over the years. If there is one man on earth worthy of breaking my promise, it would be Sky. And I can imagine he’s the only man who’d make sure I broke it at the right time. He won’t let me throw it all away on an emotional whim. Especially not when our family is in jeopardy. Neither of us will rest until we are all safe out of the clutches of the Aviary and Temple.
He shakes his head and leans toward me, forehead against mine. “No, Swan, you chase all ghosts away.”
With Luc’s mouth fast approaching, tempting more, I can’t help but consider the questions constantly running through my mind.
Could I ask you about them right now?
Do you know where they are?
Would you tell me if you did know?
“Luc,” I say, just before his lips brush mine. “I want another question. Please.”
He straightens and relents. “I believe I owe you, for Larke earlier.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
Sighing, he rubs a hand down his face. “Okay, I’ll answer that. Provided you go first.”
I rack my brain, sifting through options, finally settling on one. “Swimming in the hotel pool during daylight hours when I knew I shouldn’t. I didn’t know smugglers were there that day, but I knew better than to go alone.”
“I would have enjoyed seeing you fight that day.”
“Answer mine,” I pressure him.
“My addiction,” he says. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever done without question.”
I can feel the surprise on my face, even as I try to hide it.
“You seem surprised.”
“It’s hard not to remember what you used to do for a living.”
&
nbsp; “True, my hands have blood on them. I have the blood of an entire Family branch on my name. It’s true I’ve created orphans, too, but I’ve also rescued others in the process. Have you heard of the Axis?”
I remember the title from newspaper headlines, the pattern of bizarre deaths that emerged within one month. “That was you?”
He nods once. “They were Guild competition. They were constructing a museum that would feature children only. Plucking girls as young as four from orphanages and the occasional district. They were already gaining momentum by marketing them in graphicker studios. For my father, it was a shrewd business move to wipe them out. For me, it was personal.”
“That’s horrific,” I whisper, placing one hand on his chest.
He covers it with his own. “I don’t regret one life I’ve taken in my time. My greatest regret is relinquishing control of my own body to drugs. I’ve never let anything control me since those days. Until now.” He kisses my hand. “Goodnight, Serenity. Vulture will be stationed just outside your bedroom door should you require anything. After what happened, I am taking precautions. Unless I am with you, he will not leave your side except for a few hours of rest while you are still sleeping.” He departs without another word.
A few hours of rest doesn’t seem like enough, but Sky is resilient. A part of me wonders if he’s getting injected with enhancers. With all the medical advances in the last hundred years, the possibilities are endless. Museum guards operate on a training level more advanced than Olympic gold medalists.
“Ser,” I hear after the lights turn off.
“Sky?” I bolt up in bed only to find his warm body standing just beside the bed. “What—”
“We don’t have long,” he says in the darkness, and I smell his warm breath that reminds me of roasted vegetable stew before he wraps one arm around my shoulder and urges me close to his chest just like he used to when we were younger. “I’ve bought us a little time. Don’t ask.”
