Chapter 2 #2
Theia blinks slowly. “How many non-Upperclass?”
“Eighty-two. Maids, servants, hired help.” Violet. Ruby. Jean. They have names, I want to scream at them. Maybe I don’t know their names, but they have them. “It was not worth losing that many lives when Miss Piccolo made herself available.”
“While true, it does not excuse your poor work tonight. This complicates our operation to a ridiculous degree. What am I supposed to do with her?”
Forgetting myself, I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah, keep talking about me like I’m not in the room, that’s great.”
Both women throw me similar looks with varying amounts of ire. Theia stalks closer and Taylor’s proud chin sticks out. “I asked you a question, soldier.”
“Use her as bait for Target Two,” Taylor says. “Keep her here until we need her.”
“You would have me endanger the entire camp with the presence of the heiress because of your inability to complete a mission successfully?” A harshness settles on Theia’s face. “You have an extra room in your quarters, don’t you, Eos?”
Taylor’s eyes flick up, registering an unexpected anguish before her focus returns. She sets her jaw. “Yes.”
Theia bristles. “Yes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The stately woman’s face softens and she turns on her heel.
From a metal bin on her desk, she scoops cubes of ice and places them in a handkerchief she withdraws from a breast pocket.
She places a finger underneath Taylor’s chin to lift her gaze, and gently holds the makeshift ice pack against Taylor’s swollen cheek.
“For tonight, she will stay with you.” Theia inspects Taylor’s face with a focused gaze. “You took quite a beating. How many assailants were there?”
“Too many in the ballroom to engage,” Taylor says. “We escaped through the ballroom skylights. I dispatched those on the roof who were armed, and neutralized those who were not.”
“I need a full report tomorrow on the information gathered.” Taylor nods at Theia’s words, then takes the ice pack from her and holds it against her cheek. “Despite the egregious error made tonight, I am glad to see you home safe.”
“Thank you.” Taylor sounds more like a kicked puppy than someone thankful to be alive.
Theia takes me in, as if seeing me for the first time. “Why is she wearing your jacket?”
“She was cold, ma’am.”
Like that is the most preposterous event that’s happened tonight. Certainly not flying through a glass ceiling or being abducted and held for ransom.
“How gallant of you.” Slowly, Theia turns to me. “Luciana, do you know where you are?”
“Pennsylvania?”
“Yes. And you know who we are?” I nod. Anticipating a formal introduction, I stay silent.
Her mouth widens in a tight-lipped smile.
“As the daughter of a region leader, I presume you are well-informed on Southeast Region Leader Silas McGovern? Ah, well, former leader, I should say.” All I manage to do is gulp and nod again.
“McGovern has been eliminated at the hand of this talented young woman. As you no doubt already deduced, the mission tonight was to eliminate both you and your father.” An involuntary shiver runs down my spine as she spreads her arms. “Luciana, you are inside the beating heart of the rebellion. This is the Order of Prometheus.”
I’m expecting cannons to shoot off or streamers to fall from the ceiling with her dramatic exclamation. They don’t. The three of us are silent as she drops her arms back down to her slim hips. My eyes drift to Taylor, who stands stoically at her side.
“I suspect this is the first time someone uninitiated into our organization has ever stepped foot inside my office. I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure how to proceed.”
“I mean—crazy idea—you could let me go?”
Theia appears amused again. It’s unnerving. “Until I make a decision, the safest place for you to stay is with Eos.”
“How is that safe?” I balk. “You just said Taylor was supposed to kill me tonight.”
Theia’s manicured eyebrows arch up significantly and she levels a piercing look at Taylor, who does not lift her gaze from the carpet. “Safe from the retaliation of the countless people within these woods who would love to say they killed Luciano Piccolo’s pride and joy.”
“And what’s the guarantee she won’t kill me?”
“Because I have not given her the order to do so.” The air feels like it drops ten degrees, despite Theia’s thin smile. “Eos, have her escorted to your quarters. Miss Piccolo, you’re dismissed.”
My feet ache in pointed pain, as these heels have unsurprisingly not proved adequate for getting kidnapped. At the door, Taylor nods to her accomplice. “Hel, take her back to my cabin, please,” she says. “Wait for me there.”
“You got it.” Before Taylor can close the door, he steps in between us and lowers his already basement-level voice. “Everything okay?”
Taylor gives him a firm nod. Though he appears unconvinced, she closes the door on us. We trudge out into the air, thick with the scent of pine and bitingly cold as it gnashes against my borrowed—and evidently scandalous—jacket.
Hel vaults the three steps of a nearby cabin, landing on a modest, rickety porch.
He leans down and manipulates an inlaid scroll lock until it makes a satisfying pop.
We enter together, engulfed in darkness as the door groans closed.
Hel lumbers toward the center of the room and ignites a glass lamp in the ceiling.
The whoosh of flame reveals the room in a wash of yellow.
It’s rather Spartan—a single, tattered couch against the window, an armchair, and a simple desk and chair in the corner.
Stationed on the other side of the room is a pathetic kitchenette crowned with wall-mounted cabinets coated in peeling cerulean paint, a microwave, an oven that looks like it was manufactured before the Rift, and two unpainted wooden stools in front of a narrow Formica breakfast counter.
Three doors make up the remaining wall, all closed.
“This is where she lives?” He nods. I grimace at the furniture around the room. It’s clean, almost obsessively so, but the décor looks fished from the garbage. “Alone?” The mute man nods again. “It’s…quaint. At least it’s tidy.”
“She doesn’t spend a lot of time here. We spend our time training or doing whatever Theia needs done.”
“Speaking of, is that lady, like, Taylor’s mom or her boss? The vibe in there was weird.”
Unfortunately, before he can answer me the front door opens with a clack, giving me a start. Taylor steps around me and claps Hel on the back. “Thank you. I will see you tomorrow.”
Taylor’s marginally more relaxed as she settles into her home.
Both her posture and gait are less rigid when she approaches the sad stove and lights a burner, heating up an even sadder-looking teapot.
Her hands grip the counter as the blue gas flame kisses the bottom of an off-white kettle.
She’s so deep in reflection I almost don’t want to disturb her. Almost.
“So, what, am I your prisoner?” I ask, half-joking, half-annoyed, and completely nervous as I sit down on her couch.
“For now.”
The kettle behind her screams and she snuffs out the flame.
The same battered hands that murdered several people calmly retrieve two tea bags, pouring hot water into mismatched mugs.
When she sinks into the chair beside me with a wince and extends one my way, I take it without hesitation.
I’m too cold to deny myself an aromatic beverage and too well bred to refuse hospitality.
Under this anemic light we are not illuminated as we were in the mansion, but Taylor’s anxiety radiates from her posture—hunched over and staring unblinking into her mug, fingertips drumming on its ceramic walls.
“You understand what I am, what I do. I will not insult your intelligence by elaborating unnecessarily.”
“Thank goodness for small favors.”
“Until Theia says otherwise, you are under my protection so long as you follow the rules of our organization. Please listen carefully, as I will not repeat myself.” Taylor pauses, but my brain is still several seconds behind.
“First, you may not exit the compound without me. This is not unusual, as Order members are not permitted outside the grounds unless they have direct orders, which usually come from me. Second, you will be provided a uniform, which must be worn at all times unless instructed otherwise. Third, you may not discuss any details of your involvement in the Order with anyone, including other Order members.”
“’Cause my first instinct was to go knock on doors and introduce myself.”
Taylor presses on with only a subtle eye roll. “Be quiet, follow your orders, and understand that you are our prisoner. You will do as I say, without question.”
Snorting, I take another sip of my tea. “You must be loving this, huh? Does it make you feel powerful to tell me what to do?”
“Miss Piccolo, what I want is to perform my duties without interference or failure. For now, my duty is to keep you alive. I will do so as long as I have your complete cooperation. Can you promise me that?”
Sucking in air between my teeth, I shrug. “It’s not like I want to die.”
“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”
Literally hundreds, but I mentally file them in order of what bothers me most. Unfortunately, I’m not very practical. “How did you get into the mansion?”
Taylor expels a tiny snort of amusement. “Your window.”
My eyebrow creeps up. “Excuse me?”
“Your window,” she says, enunciating heavier, as if it was her delivery, and not the ridiculous answer, which was unclear. “Before you returned home, I gained access to the mansion through your bedroom window.”
“How did you know I left?”
“I was watching.” That opens up a whole new slew of questions. Does she know where I go? Who I see? How long has she been watching me? The mixture of curiosity and violation turns my stomach. “I neutralized perimeter threats and temporarily scrambled Force and CO communications.”