The room was dark as he pulled me through the heavy door. A soft click sounded as it swung shut.
I moved towards the bathroom slowly, pulling my hair from the ponytail.
"I'm gonna get changed for bed," I called over my shoulder, shutting the door behind me.
I knelt down and rifled through the red bags, feeling exhausted. The excitement from dancing with Finch was quickly wearing off and exhaustion was setting in.
I pulled out a thin white tank top and a pair of black yoga pants before straightening. I took my time putting them on, then brushed through my hair. As I looked in the dark mirror illuminated by the blue nightlight plugged into the wall, I twisted the faucet on.
It took a while to rinse the makeup from my face, but it felt like my skin was finally breathing when I was finished. I yawned, exiting the bathroom. My bare feet padded on the wood floor as I walked towards the kitchen.
Mr. Ivanov was leaning against the fridge in the dark, sipping from a glass of brandy. I stood up on my tiptoes beside him, reaching for a cup. His hand brushed mine as he reached to hand it to me. Goosebumps rose on my skin from his warmth.
I looked at him for a moment before turning on the sink and filling the glass with clean, clear water. It was nice and cold, soothing my dry throat.
"Nevaeh," he said, suddenly behind me.
"Hm?" I asked, setting my cup down on the counter.
"Dance with me," he almost whispered, seeming a bit breathless. I turned to face him slowly. His expression was composed, but his dark eyes were searching mine in the moon light.
"But there's no music," I said in confusion. He smirked and took my hand, leading me down the platform. He pulled us to a stop in the large space between the back of the couch and the front door.
"Hello, MARIA," Mr. Ivanov said loudly, making me jump.
"Hello, Mr. Ivanov," an automated voice sounded, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
"Say hello to Nevaeh," he smirked down at my shocked face.
"Hello, Nevaeh," the automated voice spoke again.
"Play a song for us to dance to," Mr. Ivanov commanded. Without a pause, a passionate love ballad began to play. A man with an alto voice began to sing about wanting to be loved. A piano played along with him, the low notes delicate and soft.
He pulled me close, his palm resting on my lower back as he laced our fingers together in his other hand. This dance was different from the others I'd had tonight.
He led me in a beautiful, slow dance. He spun me gracefully, pulling me back to him gently. He led us in a complicated array of steps, his hand now resting on my hip. His eyes were almost lonely as we moved together. I was clumsy in my steps, but he was flawless, and he paused as the first chorus of the song began.
My pulse elevated slightly as he pressed up against me, pulling us in graceful loops and circles. I looked at him hesitantly before resting my head against his chest. His heart beat was slow and steady, somehow soothing me. His touch was warm on my skin.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and heat burned through me. My pulse sped, and I pressed closer to him. I could feel his breath fanning through my hair.
The next verse began as he spun me out again, gripping me from behind as he swayed back and forth with me. He spun me out again, then lifted me up by my hips as he spun us in a circle again. He dipped me slowly as the verse closed.
The second chorus began as he slid me back onto my feet, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He leaned his forehead against mine as he continued to lead us around the clear space in a graceful box formation. Why do you draw me in like this? His scent was intoxicating.
The man singing was begging someone to let him in, and describing longing. Mr. Ivanov's eyes matched the musics melody, sad and deep as the bridge began, changing keys. The voice was now begging the person he sang for to let him in. To let him love them.
Our eyes locked together, and he spun me again, gripping me closely to him when he pulled me back a moment later. Electricity seemed to spark between us with every movement, and my heart rate was steadily increasing. Why do I crave your touch?
His touch was gentle, his movements smooth. His eyes never left mine. The tension between us was rising, and I wanted him to kiss me so badly that it made my heart ache. Why?
The last chorus began, and the passion of the words seemed to sink into me. The melody softened, even sweeter. I put the passion it gave me into the last of the dance, my eyes never leaving his. I was entranced in the moment, my skin warm as we moved.
His arm pulled me closer as he spun us around, his lips parting as he watched me. I could feel his breath against my skin, and the scent of him had intoxicated me long ago.
He pulled us to a standstill as the song came to an end. My skin was tingling in every place his body touched me. We stood perfectly still in the silent darkness for a long time, our eyes locked together. He released me slowly and gently, stepping back.
"Nevaeh," he said softly, lifting his hand hesitantly. He brushed his fingers lightly across my cheekbone and my heart gave a painful squeeze, making my eyelids flutter.
He stepped forward again, pressing his almost trembling lips to my forehead. "Sleep well," he murmured, turning away from me. I reached out slowly, touching his arm lightly.
"Have a good night," I said as he pulled away and looked at me over his shoulder with a small smirk.
"Sweet dreams, little dove," he smiled sadly at me. He swept gracefully out of the hotel room, and I heard the lock click behind him.
I distantly wondered where he'd gone as I crawled into bed, adjusting the blankets around me. I rested my head on the pillow, staring out the window into the brightly illuminated city below, drifting slowly.
___________________________________
I sat up, startled at the sound of the door opening. I glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. I slipped from the bedsheets quietly, moving into the living room.
Mr. Ivanov stood by the door, looking like an angry god. He was unbuttoning his suit coat and loosening his tie. His lips moved rapidly as he continued speaking into an ear clip furiously, hissing in low tones to the person on the line.
He growled furiously and said something harshly, before ending the call. He turned around and started at the sight of me by the couch. His livid expression softened slightly.
"You're still awake?" he asked, moving towards the couch.
"I woke when you came in," I answered as he pulled his jacket from his shoulders and sat on the couch.
"Ah. My apologies. I didn't mean to disturb your rest," he sounded strangely formal.
"It's alright," I said, moving to sit in one of the chairs. I hesitated before asking, "Where were you?"
"I was with Ms. Gray and Mr. Wickenburgh," he pulled his tie off slowly and began unbuttoning his shirt. My heart twinged with an emotion I didn't recognize, and my mood plummeted. Then, I gasped and stood.
"You're bleeding," I said, kneeling in front of him. "What happened?" I asked, my fingers hovering above the thin slice on his cheekbone.
"I'm okay, Nevaeh," he gripped my wrist and gently pushed me away. I stood again, moving towards the kitchen. I fished the first aid kit out from under the sink and returned to him.
"Let me clean it," I knelt before him again, opening the box and sifting through it. He stayed silent as I opened an alcohol wipe and patted his injury lightly. Drops of blood began dotting up under the wipe as I cleaned it, trying to be gentle. I pressed the wipe against it after a moment, attempting to stop the flow of blood.
I applied a thin layer of ointment onto the cut. Before I could pull back, he grabbed my wrist. I looked up at him, startled. My heart gave a loud thud as I realized how close we were.
I still knelt between his legs, but I was leaning towards him, my chest inches above his defined torso. My left hand rested on his abdomen lightly for balance, and my right was hovering by his cheek. He gripped my wrist lightly with one hand, his dark eyes locked on mine.
He pulled me closer until my chest was pressed against his. My heart rate increased slightly as he buried his face into the loose hair at my neck. He released my wrist slowly, and his arms wrapped around my back.
His lips brushed against the side of my throat, and I wrapped my arms around him hesitantly. He pulled me into his lap, holding me gently to him as he leaned back. My legs hung sideways over his own.
"Are you alright?" I asked softly against his ear, my fingers moving up to brush his throat.
"Nevaeh," he sighed, pulling back to look at me as he cupped my cheek. "Don't you worry about me."
I didn't say anything as his hand slid back to cup my neck. He pulled me to him, his lips parting and eyes slowly sliding closed. His breath tasted sweet as his fingers wove gently through my hair.
I felt my shaking lips part against his, though he hadn't kissed me yet. I gripped the front of his shirt in anticipation. I needed his kiss. Why? Why do I want you?
His lips met mine softly, and my body went rigid as an electric jolt filled me with warmth. "Your kisses are addictive," he murmured against me, kissing me again. My heart was thrumming in my chest, and I was certain he could feel it pounding against him.
He kissed me again and turned us until he was laying next to me on the couch. His arm supported my neck, holding my face to his. My hair fell over his skin as his hand gripped my waist.
His lips parted against mine, and his soft breath came through, sending pleasant chills along its path. It was hard to breathe as his soft mouth moved against mine slowly. He was so passionate it made my chest ache.
My veins burned as I slipped my hand upwards, cupping his cheek. My eyelids fluttered open just before he pulled back and lay fully down behind me. He pulled me onto my side, facing away from him, and his arm slid around my waist.
"No-Mr. Ivanov?" I asked in a hushed voice. He pulled me tighter against his chest.
"Don't speak," he said so softly I almost couldn't hear him. "Just stay."
"Okay," I said, closing my eyes. I could feel the soft and defined lines of his chest pressed against my back.
His breath became steady as we lay in silence. The room was warm, and with him holding me I didn't need a blanket. My body was curved and bent to match his, and he lay very still.
I registered his soft snores a half hour later as he clutched me tightly to him. I nestled against him, resting my head on his arm and closing my eyes. It feels nice. I thought. Being held like this. Being held by him, specifically.
Maybe that's why his touch is so addictive. Am I just enjoying being touched and embraced? That has to be it. Right?
I began to drift off slowly, not thinking of escape for the first time since I'd met him. Instead, I was focused on his touch, his hands on my body. His warmth surrounded me, and I was comfortable.
This was the first time he entered my dreams. I was in a pitch black room and he stood holding me, clearly visible. He turned his back to me and began walking away, his hands in his pockets.
I tried to follow him, but my legs felt leadened. I tried to call out to him, screaming his name as he began to disappear in the distance. I couldn't move. He never looked back at me. Noah. Don't leave me. Don't go! Wait! Was all I said as I continued to reach for him. Blackness engulfed me, and the dream faded away.
___________________________________
Angelina Gray was always there, clinging to Mr. Ivanov so consistently I almost wanted to shove her away from him. It was disgusting how obsessed she was with him, always glaring at me. I wasn't much of a threat.
I was left alone in the apartment for the most part during the day. I used this time to fine tune my escape plan as much as possible. I began making preparations in the mornings when I showered, slowly moving everything from a red synch backpack into the other suitcases.
I was careful about how much I moved out at a time, trying to make it unnoticeable. I had one day left to plan my escape. Tomorrow night, I would try to slip away without notice.
I lay on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV again. I'd just woken from a nap, trying to get some extra rest before tomorrow. My stomach grumbled loudly and I sighed. Soon, I'll be free.
I got up from the couch and moved towards the kitchen. Yawning, I searched through the cabinets, then poured myself a bowl of cereal. I moved towards the barstools, dipping a spoon into the bowl.
I sat at the counter to eat after pulling a random book from the shelf. It read 'The History of the New Society, by Norman Edgar' in fine-print bold letters on the fading red cover. The thin synthetic papers inside were covered in printed black letters.
I began flipping through it as I ate, reading bits and pieces throughout. I nearly choked when I reached the middle of the book. There were two synthetic papers folded together. I leaned over the page to conceal my movements and unfolded them a little.
Maps! I nearly choked on my cereal again. Two detailed maps. I couldn't tell of what yet, as I'd only partially opened the pages. I folded the papers again and slipped them covertly into my long sweater sleeve before continuing to flip through the book.
I sighed, as though bored as I closed the book and carried it back to the shelf. I placed my empty bowl in the sink after I drained it of milk. A maid would come up later to clean up.
I wasn't sure if there were any cameras in the hotel room, but it was almost a guarantee that there would never be one in a bathroom. And with MARIA only a word away, I didn't dare risk it.
I walked slowly towards the bathroom, opening and closing the door. I slid the lock closed, then turned on the sink before moving towards the red backpack with black pull strings. I knelt on the floor, pulling the papers out from the inside of my sleeve.
I unfolded them carefully, examining them. There was a detailed map of the new society, and a simple map of the farmlands. Two small photographs were tucked inside.
The first was of Natalia, standing and smiling brightly in a chair by the kitchen window in Mr. Ivanov's manor. She wore a pretty yellow sundress that hung to her knees, her dark hair pulled over her shoulder in a short braid.
The second photograph was older, scratched and fading. At first glance, it seemed to be showing a simple desert. Then, I realized that it closely resembled the desert painting in Mr. Ivanov's dining room.
But it seemed to be taken from another location. The sky wasn't cloudy, and there was no village. The carved shelf of rock rose in the far distance, though it also looked different. The crevice-like canyons were smaller, and less open.
The person who had taken the photo had been standing high up next to a concrete railing. The photo had been taken by shaky hands, and the photographer's finger was visible in the bottom corner.
I folded everything back up and slipped the objects inside the red bag where I'd already stashed the compass, a pair of extra clothing and a tank top, a plastic water bottle, and a serrated knife wrapped in a washcloth. They were covered by toiletries that I'd scattered on top, concealing everything else.
Just then, I heard the front door open and I stood up straight, leaping to silently unlock the door. My heart was pounding, and I moved to the sink. I placed my trembling hands in the steaming hot water and cursed under my breath. I adjusted it to cool, lathering my hands in soap just as the door opened and Mr. Ivanov walked in.
"You're back earlier than usual today," I said, trying to seem nonchalant. I glanced at my reflection. My eyes were too wide and I looked almost panicked. He was looking at me strangely.
"I came back early, he said, examining my expression in the mirror.
"Oh," I said, trying to calm down.
"Are you alright?" he asked as I shut off the water and turned to face him. He felt my forehead, "You look flushed and scared."
"I had a nightmare," I lied smoothly.
"A nightmare?" he looked confused.
"I took a nap," I faked a yawn. He seemed to believe me. My heart thudded in my chest as I waited for him to respond.
"Do you have nightmares often?" he asked, his hand dropping to his side. The pictures of Natalia flashed in my mind as I looked at him, and I desperately wanted to ask him where she was. No. I thought. It's too dangerous. I'm not supposed to think about my family. And who knows how he'd react?
"Sometimes," I answered his question honestly.
"The last business gathering is tonight. It's a banquet and party, so dress formally," he said after a moment, leaving the bathroom. "You should start getting ready now. We have to leave in an hour."
I shut the door behind him with trembling hands and leaned against it with a sigh of relief.
After a moment, I pulled on a full length dress and combed my hair up into an elegant messy bun. It took a long time to do my make up, but by the time I was done, I looked decent enough.
I slipped on my shoes and looked in the mirror. I was wearing a blush-pink dress with a layered a-line skirt. It had a front split up to my knees, and was dusted in silver glitter. Spaghetti straps gripped my shoulders.
My makeup was light, with thin black eyeliner and tinted pink lipgloss and blush. I'd left curled strands of my hair out of the bun on either side of my face and pushed through silver glittering earrings with a matching necklace.
I left the bathroom, turning off the light behind me. Mr. Ivanov was watching something on TV in a fresh black suit, his hair styled neatly. The click of my heels signaled my approach and he clicked the TV off, turning to look at me.
His eyes widened slightly as he looked at me, standing slowly. He moved around the couch and stepped towards me.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, looking down and fidgeting with my fluffy dress. His finger touched my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.
"No," he murmured, placing his other hand on my waist. "You look beautiful. Let's go," he pulled me with him towards the door. His compliment made my skin tingle.
I watched as he pulled the keycard out and swiped it in a keypad by the door swiftly. He tucked it back in his suit jacket as he pulled the door open and flipped the lights off behind us. The first time I'd seen him do this, I wondered how I hadn't noticed on the first day here.
The door clicked shut and I followed Mr. Ivanov down the hall to the elevators. It opened shortly after he pressed the button and we entered. Electricity sparked between us as the doors closed. We were completely alone.
I looked up at him, and his eyes locked on mine before he yanked me into him and his lips crushed mine. He pushed me up against the wall, pinning my wrists on either side of my head as the elevator zipped downwards.
His lips moved against mine furiously, his tongue slipping between my teeth. My heard pounded rapidly as he pushed into me, crushing his body against mine. I gasped against him just as the elevator door dinged.
He yanked away from me and turned as an older couple entered. We looked at each other, and I had suppress a giggle. He smirked at me and took my hand as we zipped the rest of the way down to the first floor.
"Remind me, again. What's your favorite color?" he asked as we walked down the wide hallway. This made me blush suddenly.
"Onyx," I said, surprising myself. It had been lilac up until very recently. I looked up at him slowly.
"Onyx?" he asked skeptically, his eyes catching mine. "Like black?"
"No," I said slowly, feeling shocked as I realized why I'd suddenly changed my mind. "Like your eyes. With a hint of amber and gold."
"Oh," he looked ahead. I thought he was blushing, but he kept his face carefully turned away from me, so I couldn't be certain. "Tell me something about yourself."
"Um," I paused as we passed the pool room, thinking. "I love music. I used to sing a lot with my sister," I paused, examining him as I mentioned her. He gave nothing away. Maybe he honestly doesn't realize. I thought, following him through the crowded lobby. I wanted to believe that. We look different enough that it could be true.
People were gathering at the lobby bar, chattering and socializing loudly. I examined them as I continued, "I've heard you playing the piano at night back at the manor."
"I haven't meant to keep you up at night," he apologized as we left the building.
"Don't feel bad," I responded. "You play beautifully. It actually makes it easier to sleep." It was true. Music always soothed me, no matter the genre.
He didn't say anything else as we approached Nathan and slid into the car. A moment later, we pulled out of the drive.
Mr. Ivanov sat across from me again, and he immediately poured himself a glass of brandy. I sat in silence, staring out the window. It was snowing lightly, and the sky was white.
"Is that your drink of choice?" I asked after a moment.
"Yes. I find that it calms me. What's your drink of choice?"
"Strawberry milk," I blushed and looked pointedly out the window, fidgeting with my dress.
"That wasn't exactly the kind of drink I meant," he chuckled softly.
"I haven't really found an alcoholic drink I actually like," I shrugged, placing my elbow against the doorframe and leaned my cheek against my fist.
"I suppose that would make sense," he said. "You rarely ever touch your drinks at dinner. Strawberry milk, from now on then. What else?"
"I like lemonade," I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "And grape juice. My mom used to make this strawberry juice. That was my favorite as a child," I smiled a little at the memory, focusing on the cars zooming past us.
The car was toasty, and I leaned back into the seat, fidgeting with the delicate fabric of my dress. I bit my lip after a while, and folded my hands in my lap.
"Nevaeh," he leaned forward, touching my lip with his thumb. "You're going to drive me mad before we even arrive at the party."
"Sorry," I mumbled, turning to look at him as he straightened. I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks. He didn't seem to notice as he sipped his brandy, staring out the window.
We arrived at the venue shortly, and I climbed out of the car before Mr. Ivanov. The air was chilly, and I hadn't brought a jacket.
"Let's go," Mr. Ivanov placed his hand on my back as he stood beside me. He guided me gently towards the entrance.
The venue was a massive banquet hall, filled with hundreds of people. The floors were white marble, and the walls were papered crimson. The atmosphere was meant to hint at the Victorian age, and was elegant and refined.
Mr. Ivanov greeted people as we passed, his hand slipping away from me the moment we entered the building. I wrung my hands nervously, resisting the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my dress. There's so many people. I grimaced.
"Noah!" Angelina gray appeared out of nowhere, throwing herself at him. He patted her back politely as she hugged him before pulling away.
"Hey, Tiny," Finch said at her side, smirking at me. He wore a button down shirt and black suit pants. His shirt was casually undone to the third button, and a black tie hung loose at his neck.
"What's up, Brains?" I returned his smile.
"Noah, you must come see this painting with me," Angelina said seductively, looping her arm through his. Her Ruby lips were parted into a shiny smile. "It's lovely."
"Perhaps after I've eaten," he said politely, though he shifted uncomfortably at her touch. That made me want to laugh.
"Mr. Ivanov," another voice said. I turned to see Mr. Wickenburgh approaching us. He came to a standstill beside me, leaning against his golden cane. His wrinkled expression was calculative.
"Good evening, Mr. Wickenburgh," Mr. Ivanov greeted him.
"I hope my niece isn't bothering you too much," Mr. Wickenburgh smiled, though it looked less like teasing than a challenge. I shivered uncomfortably. It took me a moment to realize that by niece, he meant Angelina. No wonder she makes my skin crawl. I thought.
"Not at all,"Â Mr. Ivanov said. Turning to look at me with an expression devoid of emotion. "You can go, Nevaeh."
"You're name is Nevaeh, then?" Mr. Wickenburgh asked just as I was about to leave.
"Yes, sir," I responded politely.
"You're very beautiful. Much more so than your sister. Don't you agree, Mr. Ivanov?" he asked, turning to look at Mr. Ivanov as I froze in shock. Mr. Ivanov stiffened, looking at me with hard, guarded eyes.
"Perhaps," he answered Mr. Wickenburgh. "Go, Nevaeh. I'll message if I need you again tonight."
My lips parted. I wanted to ask how he knew her, now that he couldn't avoid the question. I paused when he gave me a barely noticeable shake of his head. Not right now. His eyes seemed to speak this out loud. He was right. This isn't the time or place for this conversation.
I bit my lip anxiously. The curiosity was eating away at me. He knows. His expression said it all. He's known it for a while now. So why didn't he say anything?
"Go with her, little bird," Angelina said to Finch, who was looking between me and Mr. Ivanov, eyes wide. He seemed to be the only one who'd noticed our brief exchange.
I turned away as Finch approached me. Just as I was about to pass, Mr. Wickenburgh caught my wrist. His grip was cold and firm, and a chill ran through me at his touch. My hair stood on end, and every part of me was unnerved. My body seemed to sense danger around him.
"We'll see you later, Nevaeh Jay Williams,"Â he grinned creepily. It made me uncomfortable when he spoke my name. How does he know it? My senses jolted in careful alarm as his thumb brushed my arm lightly, and then he released me.
"Creepy," Finch said as soon as we were out of hearing distance. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a bit sick and disgusted.
"Yeah," I agreed.
"What did he mean?" Finch wondered. "About your sister, I mean."
I gripped his arm and pulled him into the corner, glancing around nervously. "I don't know what Mr. Wickenburgh meant, but," I bit my lip, hesitating as I glanced around again.
"But what?" Finch asked, leaning closer as my voice dropped to a whisper. I explained going through Mr. Ivanov's wallet and finding the first photo, and later finding the second in the book. I didn't tell him about the maps, but it made me feel a bit guilty. "Are you crazy?" he hissed when I finished speaking.
"Probably," I rolled my eyes. "Look, he knows her. Maybe I can find out where she is now."
"You could get in trouble," he warned, gripping my arm. "Just be careful, Nevaeh."
"I will," I said confidently. He looked concerned. "Just stay quiet about this for now."
"I won't say a word," he promised.
"Won't say a word about what?" Someone said, and I turned to face Lizzy and Nora.
"About how she slipped outside," Finch lied easily, and with what seemed like a genuinely humored grin.
"Looks like you already broke your promise, then. Are you okay, Tiny?" Lizzy asked, concern in her expression. Nora looked at me skeptically.
"Yeah. It was just embarrassing," I smiled at them. "How are you guys?"
"The same as any other night," Nora shrugged, munching on a green macaroon as she looked away from my face. I forgot. I realized. She's good at reading people-and she can usually sense lies.
"Yeah," Lizzy agreed. She was holding a cup of pink punch in her hand. "My master put me through hell tonight. I swear I had to try on at least fifty dresses before he settled on this one. And don't even get me started on my hair and make up," she rolled her eyes.
"Mr. Ivanov pretty much let's me dress however I like," I said.
"God, you're lucky," Nora said. "I go through pretty much the same thing as Liz."
"Angelina doesn't really care what I wear. She prefers I look somewhat provocative, though," he gestured at his undone buttons.
"Your dress is gorgeous, by the way," Lizzy said, reaching out to touch the soft mesh fabric of my skirt. She was wearing a simple black V-neck with spaghetti straps.
"No kidding. Your master really likes to keep you looking good," Nora agreed, fidgeting in her strapless blue dress.
"Your dresses are nice, too," I looked at them curiously.
"Yes, but our masters don't put us in designer brand clothes" Finch chuckled. "You look beautiful, Tiny."
"Thanks, Fin," I ducked my head in embarrassment. I hadn't known this dress was designer. Are all of my clothes designer? I wondered vaguely. Not that it mattered.
"Your master is very handsome too," Lizzy said dreamily, stirring her drink absently with a biodegradable yellow straw. "He's all dark and mysterious with a brooding look."
"I guess," I shrugged with a smile. He really was handsome. I could see him standing across the room from where I was, his back turned to me as he conversed with a group of middle aged colleagues. Angelina was still clinging to him as he turned his head, accepting a stemmed glass from Mr. Wickenburgh, his softly chiseled features masked in hardness.
"What are you staring at?" Finch asked, leaning close so he could see through my line of vision. "Blegh. She's utterly obsessed with him. She never shuts up about him and his success."
"I figured as much," I said tonelessly, leaning against the wall. My chest gave a squeeze as I wondered if Mr. Ivanov ever thought about her.
"I read in a magazine that they dated when they were sixteen," Lizzy said. "It was apparently an ugly break up."
"I wonder what got them back together," Nora said, watching them.
"You think they're back together?" I asked, my chest beginning to ache.
"They're not," Finch looked at me strangely. "She's always complaining about him leaving her and how she wants him back. Either way, whatever she's doing right now is not the way to win his heart back. There's no way he can find someone throwing themselves at his feet appealing."
"Oh," I shrugged, feeling a bit better as I looked away from Mr. Ivanov.
"Let's go get some dinner," Finch nudged me.
"Alright," I said, waving goodbye to Nora an Lizzy as I followed him towards one of the many tables. He filled his plate generously, but I only took a strawberry and a large buttered roll that was smothered in cream cheese.
I followed him towards a wall, and he sunk to the floor, leaning back as he took a bite of creamy-looking mashed potatoes and gravy. I slid down beside him, chewing on the roll.
The room smelled lovely, a mixture of savory food and floral perfume from the hundreds of bouquets scattered around the room. People were gathered in various groups in the full room, laughing and chattering excitedly. Unlike in communities where the nutritional meals were bland, limited, and calorically based for each individual, the people here were eating as much as they wanted to.
"Nevaeh?" Finch said slowly before taking another bite. I glanced over at him before people watching again.
"Yes?" I responded, taking another bite of my roll.
"What happened to you before you were taken to the institution?" he asked after a long moment, his voice low.
"I lived in a community," I answered slowly. "They sent us a message saying that they found a connection to a warlord in our blood samples, from my father's side. We ran for the wall, but they caught up," I paused, remembering the day clearly. It hurt to think of. "They killed my parents. I guess they put my sister in the institution too, but until recently, I thought she was dead."
"Wow," he closed his eyes, clearly short for a good response.
"What happened to you?" I wondered.
"They bust our door down and killed my mom and dad. I didn't know what was going on, so I fought them and they sedated me. I woke up in an interrogation room where they tortured me and asked me insane questions," he looked over at me.
"They did that to me too," I sighed, finishing off my roll. "How old were you?"
"Thirteen," he answered. "You?"
"I'd just turned sixteen," I said, biting into my strawberry delicately. It must have been awful. Living in the institution for five years.
"I'm sorry," I said after a long pause.
"Me too," he answered.
"Did you have any siblings?" I asked.
"No. It was just me," he said.
"My sister and I were my parents only children," I spoke softly.
"We're you close to your sister?" He wondered.
"Very," I smiled softly, a feeling of absence and longing for her filling me.
"Where did you live?" Finch wondered.
"Cottonwood community, in Ruby city. Where are you from?" I inquired.
"Oak wood, Cerulean city," he said.
"You were near the wall," I gasped, looking up at him. "What's out there?"
"Just an expanse of farms and fields as far as the eye can see. You can't even see the outer wall," he shrugged. "There's nothing but rolling hills, really. Hills and farms."
I pondered for a very long time over his words. Water means hydration. And maybe even food, if there are plants or fish. I have to find a source right away. I can last without much food as long as I have water.
I was just about to turn back to Finch when he spoke again. "And they hang people from the walls. It's awful walking past. There are bodies decaying everywhere. The keepers say they're all deserters."
"What?" I gasped, horrified.
"They hold public executions occasionally for criminals in the New Society. We were forced to watch, but we couldn't do anything about it. Citizens from Cerulean aren't supposed to talk about it," he sighed.
"Those poor people," I murmured, chewing on my nails. So if I run and get caught, I'll be killed. Even if I escape Mr. Ivanov. My odds aren't looking good. I closed my eyes, my mind swimming.
"That's what happened to my cousin," he said with a deep breath. "She tried to escape late at light through a crack in the wall and they caught her. They drug her into the community square and woke everyone to watch as they shot her through the head. Her terrified scream still haunts me at night, and the image of her falling to the ground, blood pooling down her face from the entry point...it frequents my nightmares," his voice became a whisper at the end.
"That's awful," I said. "They treat us all like prisoners."
"We all are prisoners. The New Society owns us," he said after another long moment.
"It certainly seems that way," I murmured, though I was shocked at his words. We continued to chat for a long time as he dug in to his meal. I tapped my bracelet awhile later to check the time.
5:45. I sighed.
"What's that?" Finch asked, touching my wrist lightly to examine the bracelet.
"It's an electronic messenger," I answered, showing him the hologram on my wrist.
"So it's a holographic telecommunicator?" he wondered, inspecting it.
"I don't think you can make calls on it, though," I shrugged, turning it off.
"What are you doing on the floor, little dove?" A smooth voice made me jump. A low chuckle followed the question. I looked up to see Mr. Ivanov, no Angelina in tow.
"I'm sitting," I answered, almost rolling my eyes.
"I can see that," he smirked. He reached his hand down for me, and I took it, trying to stand. My foot got tangled in my dress, sending me tumbling forward. An arm caught me by the waist before I could plummet, face first, into the ground.
"Careful," Mr. Ivanov chuckled again, straightening me. His fingers lingered lightly on my waist before his hand dropped to his side. "Are you ready to go?"
"Already?" I asked. We'd only been here for two hours.
"We're leaving early tonight," he shrugged. I turned to look at Finch. He was still sitting on the floor, picking at a turkey leg.
"I guess I'll see you later, Brains," I smiled.
"See you, Tiny," he looked up with a smirk and winked.
"The back exit is this way," Mr. Ivanov said suddenly, his hand leading me through the thick crowd of people. "What's with the nicknames?" he asked casually as we walked through a set of propped open doors into a short hallway.
"Huh?" I asked. I'd been thinking about Finch, and how instead of giving his family notice of their transfer like mine, the society had just broken down his front door. Why did they do things so differently?
"Why do you call him brains?" he clarified.
"Oh," I hesitated as he pressed an elevator button. "Where are we going?" I avoided the question.
"We're going to the parking garage. Now tell me," he said.
"We were in the institution together. Finch is Brains , because he's super smart. I'm Tiny because I'm the shortest, Lizzy is Whims because she's funny and a bit of an airhead, and Nora is Soul because she's good at reading people," I answered slowly. The elevator dinged and the doors slipped open.
"I see," he said, pulling us inside. "The four of you are close, then."
"Yes," I answered. "They are good friends."
The elevator doors slipped closed, and all conversation was forgotten as electricity burned through me. He looked at me, eyes wide. "The hell is with elevators?" he asked as he pulled me to him.
He leaned forward as he cupped my neck, pulling me closer. His lips parted, almost touching mine as he closed his eyes. He almost looked pained as his lips met mine, so softly that it startled me.
My eyes slid closed as I returned the kiss. My knees felt weak. My heart rate increased slightly as he pulled me closer, his fingers brushing across my skin, trailing goosebumps along my lower back.
The elevator dinged and he pulled away from me. His fingers lingered on my neck as the doors slid open. His onyx eyes were hard again, but the liquid gold and amber flecks shone beautifully.
"Let's go," he said, turning away from me as his hand fell to his side. His expression was guarded again as I followed him into the underground parking garage, and he never looked back at me. It reminded me of my dream, and a bewildered giggle caught in my throat as I tripped over my dress again and tumbled forward.
I fell to my knees, scraping my palm against the rough ground. He knelt before me, chuckling softly.
"Damn," I mumbled, examining my bleeding hand.
"Let me see," he said, pulling it towards him carefully. His fingers prodded my fingers and wrist gently before he pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around the injury. "There's no sprain. Just keep that pressed to the scrape until it stops bleeding."
"Alright," I nodded, pulling myself up onto my feet with the help of a nearby yellow car. He gathered my skirts up elegantly,pressing them into my free hand before turning again.
I followed him several more rows down before he stopped beside a slick red car. He opened the passenger and helped me inside. It was definitely easier to walk now.
"Where's Nathan?" I wondered.
"I told him I would be driving myself tonight, so he had this delivered for us."
"Oh," I said, meeting his eyes as he shut the door with a soft smile. He climbed into the drivers side a moment later, and the engine purred to life.
The wheels rolled smoothly as he backed out of the parking space and drove up a ramp to the gate. An unarmed keeper in bullet proof black clothes checked his plates and identity before letting us through with a lazy wave as she spoke into an ear piece.
It was snowing gently outside, the flakes swirling past the window. The city flew past as he turned onto the freeway by the lake.
He pressed a button on the wheel, and the radio began to play an electronic and upbeat pop song, right in the middle of a bridge.
"Where are we going?" I asked after a moment of listening.
"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked with a small smile. He leaned his elbow against the door frame, supporting his head with a loose fist.
"Not really," I shook my head, looking over at him.
"I hoped that wasn't the case," he smiled softly. "You're going to love it," he said, pressing on the gas as we followed a wide curve along the edge of the lake. A new electronic pop song began in the following silence.
The blue water glittered beautifully in the light of the setting sun. Trees and various water flowers had grown around it, reflecting on the surface of the lake, as though it were a mirror. I knew it ran very deep, the bottom around 2,500 feet below the surface.
I turned to look at him slowly. "Why do you want to take me to the Ferris wheel?"
"So you guessed. I don't know," he frowned, his eyes locked on the road. "I just do."
I looked at him in confusion. "So you're just doing this on a whim?"
"I suppose so," he shrugged, turning the steering wheel along another curve. I felt my body being pulled with the car's movements.
"Huh," I said, turning to look out the window again.
"Are you certain you're not afraid of heights?" he asked, a teasing tone leaking into his low voice.
"No," I said. "I'm afraid of falling."
"I won't let you fall," he said softly as he pulled off the freeway. His words made my heart skip a beat.
I turned forward again, looking out the window. I could see the bridge in the distance, spanning across the lake. It was grey and red, illuminated by colorful industrial lights. It was designed after what had been called the Akashi Kaikyo bridge, which had collapsed during world war VI.
He made a right turn into a street filled with shops, cutting off my view. I'm a lot closer to the bridge tonight then I would be at the hotel tomorrow. Should I run now, instead? It would mean I have to leave everything behind, and I'd have to ditch the dress for pants somehow, but...
I glanced over at him, feeling a little guilty. No, Nevaeh. Don't be stupid. He doesn't care about you. He can just get another entertainer after you escape. You have to do this. Tonight.
I steeled my will and put on a look of innocence and anticipation as he pulled into the parking lot below the massive white Ferris-wheel. The whole thing was wrapped in purple and white decorative lights.
Mr. Ivanov pulled the car to a stop and removed the keys, tucking them into his pocket. I hesitated in the silence between us. I have to ask. I decided with a shaky breath.
"How do you know my sister?" I asked, my voice filled with anxiety.
"I don't," he answered in a hard tone.
"But, Mr. Wickenburgh-" I began.
"Nevaeh," he cut me off, his voice ice cold. I looked up at him, startled. His eyes were burning with a fierce anger. "Don't."
"I saw the picture," I leaned back against the car door, glaring at him. "You know her."
"You looked through my wallet?" he growled. Now he was livid.
"No, stupid. I saw it over your shoulder and found a picture of her in one of the books," I lied about the first part, but I didn't want to make him angrier. It brought him up short.
"We're not talking about this," he said, his eyes cooling further.
"Why not?" I asked, starting to feel angry too.
"Nevaeh," he said. "No."
"I think-"
"I don't owe you anything, and I will not talk to you about Natalia," he snapped, yanking the car door handle and shoving the door open. "Stay."
He slammed the door shut and I stared after him. My eyes were wide with shock. That's one way to piss him off, Nevaeh. He didn't move way from the drivers side, and I didn't dare disobey him just yet. After a long moment, he walked around to the passenger door and opened it for me.
I climbed out slowly, avoiding his eyes. His anger had scared me. Badly.
"I'm sorry," he said, tilting my chin up and forcing me to look at him. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."
I said nothing as he released me, letting my eyes drop to my feet.
"Are you crying?" he asked, sounding horrified.
"No," I wiped my eyes stubbornly.
"Don't lie," he pulled me to him. "Why are you crying."
"I'm angry," I laughed, pulling away.
"Why?" He asked, softly shutting the door and pulling his coat off.
"She's my sister, Noah," I moved away from him and glared into his hardened eyes. It was the first time I'd dared to say his first name out loud. And now that I said it, I realized I could never know him as anything but Noah. At least, not anymore. He looked at me, his eyes narrowing, as I continued, "I think I deserve to know the truth."
"I can't tell you," his voice sounded tight as he wrapped his coat around my shoulders. I'm sorry, Nevaeh."
"Fine," I gathered my skirts and marched past him towards the line at the bottom of the ferris wheel.
I could feel him standing behind me, but he didn't say anything until we'd gone through the line and were ushered into an empty white car. It was illuminated by purple and blue decorative lights inside, and the curved walls were lined with a long window that spanned from floor to ceiling. There were cushioned benches on either side. He sat across from me, speaking as the door closed and we began to move slowly upwards.
"You do deserve to know the truth," he said. "Please believe me when I say you're better off not knowing."
"What?" I asked, feeling confused. "How can you say that?"
"I'm sorry, Nevaeh," he said again. He seemed sincere.
We sat in silence as the ride came to a stop momentarily, allowing the next set of people into the car behind us. I still felt angry, but...Maybe there's a good reason why he won't tell me.
"Say it again," he murmured after a moment. I turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, his expression smoothed.
"Say what?" I wondered, watching him carefully.
"My name," he almost whispered.
"Noah," I said, confused as he smiled sadly, and his eyes slid opened.
"No one has called me that in so long," he said slowly. "It feels...nice."
"Oh," I said. I suppose that makes sense. It felt good when he said my name for the first time too. "Angelina calls you by your first name."
"Yes, but that just irritates me. It...calms me when you say it," he sighed.
"I see," I said. I was beginning to calm down now, too.
"Nevaeh," he said softly another moment later, and my eyes locked on his. I could feel my heart beating steadily in my chest.
"What?" I asked. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were filled with a million emotions.
"Come here," he pleaded, holding his arms out to me. I stood and moved towards him, my hands shaking. I adjusted my dress and straddled him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
I could feel the bite of a silver chain in my skin. He always wore it, but I'd never seen the full necklace. He was always careful to put it out of reach any time he had to take it off.
His arms slid around me as our lips met. He pulled me closer and molded his mouth to mine. Our lips moved slowly and softly together. We stayed like that until we reached the top and he pulled away.
"Look, Nevaeh," he murmured, turning my face towards the window. I could see the lake far below. The last of the city across the lake rose on the bank, cast in dramatic shadows from the setting sun.
The cloudy sky was painted amaranth and violet, with hints of gold and orange. Snow was falling gently from the sky, white and lovely. My eyes widened at the beauty before me. It was so angelic I could have cried.
"I've never seen something so lovely in my life," I said softly.
"Neither have I," he said as I turned to look at him. But he wasn't looking out the window as the car began its decent. He was staring in wonder at me.
He embraced me tightly until we reached the bottom. He didn't look at me as we stepped out of the car. Snow flurried around us, melting on the back of my neck as I pulled his coat tighter around me.
He led me towards a bench that was built beside a fountain and sat down, stretching his legs. This is my chance. My heart thudded in my chest as I tried to keep my expression under control.
"Mr. Ivanov?" I asked, feeling a bit hyper.
"Yes?" He asked, looking up at me. It's all over if he tries to come with me.
"I need to use the restroom. May I go?" I gestured to the buildings across from us.
"Be fast," he smiled, looking down at his wrist. He tapped his bracelet and I turned, walking slowly to the bathroom.
As I came up behind the line, I bit my lip and checked covertly behind me. He wasn't watching me, and was instead studying the hologram on his sleeve. I took a deep, shaky breath and turned, walking carefully around the building before darting sideways into an alley.
My body shook as I peeked around the corner. Good. He hasn't noticed yet. If he looks up now, it's a short enough line that he'll probably assume I'm inside. I sighed with relief as I jogged down the alley, taking the first left turn that came up.
Luckily the snow wasn't sticking just yet, so I wasn't leaving any footprints.
I need to keep to this direction to find the bridge. I need to make my way towards the freeway. My heart was pounding in my chest as I moved. The alleyway was damp, and smelled of biodegradable trash.
I peeked around the next corner before continuing down the alley. Switch it up. You're harder to find if you don't stay in one place. My breath shook as I turned casually to the right. Stay away from people. Your dress is a dead give away.
My breath crystallized in the air as the snow became heavier. Anytime I heard voices, I'd duck into the shadows of the walls or trash bins until they faded. Keep it up, Nevaeh. I thought encouragingly as I reached another alley. I could see the freeway that led through the city on the other side. This way then.
I turned left, keeping the main road an alley away on my right. My hair was falling loosely out of the bun I'd put it in, the band slipping out. My body was covered in a light sheen of nervous sweat.
There's the bridge. I thought as I exited the long alley. I nervously slowed and walked over to a group of people at a stoplight, waiting to cross to the bridge. It was common for people to walk across it, thankfully, but my dress still got me odd looks.
I followed them across the road, and breathed a sigh of relief as my feet touched the bridge. Don't relax yet, Nevaeh. Lose these people first.
I slowed my pace, crossing to the other sidewalk the moment they were out of sight. My heart thudded steadily in my chest as I walked. The wind had picked up considerably, blowing loose strands of hair around me.
The air was cold, but Noah's coat kept me warm. I adjusted my glittering dress, gathering the skirts into my hand to make moving easier.
I could see the darkening water over the railing, 216 feet beneath me. My heels echoed on the sidewalk and my dress swirled around my legs as I continued up the bridge. Anytime someone came into view, I slowed my pace, avoiding being seen as much as possible.
Cars passed me occasionally, though no one paid me any mind. My heart was still throbbing in my chest several minutes later as I noticed that the snow was finally beginning to stick.
Damn, it's cold. I shivered, breathing in the chilly night air. The sun had slipped behind the horizon a few minutes ago, and the only light was faint, filtered through industrial lights on the bridge supports.
My teeth were beginning to chatter as the cold seeped through my dress. The wind blew harder now, seeming thick as it brushed my body.
Headlights landed on me from behind, but the car didn't pass as I expected. Instead it pulled to a rough stop behind me and I heard the door click open. I turned to see what was going on.
Noah was climbing out. I didn't have time to think, so I kicked off my shoes and lept towards the railing.
"What are you doing?" he gasped as I began to climb over. His footsteps pounded towards me as I gripped onto one of the bridges supports for balance. I pulled his coat off quickly, tossing it onto the ground in front of him.
"Stop," I said wildly as the last of my bun came undone, strands of hair blowing messily around my face.
"Nevaeh," he stopped in his tracks, hesitating. He took a slow step closer.
"Don't come any closer," I gasped desperately. "I'll let go."
"You don't want to do this," he said, his expression filled with concern.
"I won't live like this," I responded as my dress whipped around my legs.
"Nevaeh," his tone was pleading. The wind was harsh and cold, the snowflakes stinging my skin.
"I won't live the life of a prisoner," I said sternly. "I'd rather die."
"Please, Nevaeh. I don't want to lose you," he said, taking another step forward. His arms were held out to me, palms forward as though showing me he meant no harm. My heart pounded like a drum inside me.
"Stay back," I said, letting go of the support with one hand. He looked panicked as he watched me.
"Nevaeh, I'll do anything. Just step back over and talk to me," he begged, reaching out for my hand. He stood close enough that I could reach it if I stretched my free arm towards him. I almost wanted to.
"You want to talk?" I almost laughed. "Tell me how you know my sister."
"I bought her-like I bought you. She was my entertainer," he said, his expression so broken I wanted to fling myself towards him and hold him.
"And?" I asked instead. I felt a bit hysterical.
"I loved her," he said, stepping forward again, eyes locked on mine. "It's my fault, Nevaeh. It's my fault she's dead."
"No," I shook my head, feeling hollow as tears flowed from my eyes. My stomach and throat tightened in hysterical sadness. "She's not dead. There's no way."
"She is, Nevaeh," he said, stepping forward again. "She's dead."
"You're lying," I sobbed and laughed, my heart shattering horribly.
"I'm sorry," he took another step. He was too close now.
"Did you know?" I demanded, and he hesitated again.
"Did I know what?" he asked.
"That she was my sister," my voice was rushed as I teetered on the edge.
"Not for certain, until tonight," he said. "I should have known. Your eyes. Her eyes. They're unique," he continued, taking another step.
"Back off," I snapped, gripping the railing with both hands as I smiled sadly at him. "I promised I'd find her and escape. I guess this is the best way to find freedom. Goodbye, Noah."
"Nevaeh, don't-" he began. But it was too late. I'd already let go of the railing.