EIGHT
SHEETS BENEATH ME. FINGERS touching my face.
No, shrieked a voice. My voice.
I pressed myself to the floor, heart pounding. My face was wet. I wiped at it impatiently and crouched low next to an empty cot. Its rumpled sheet tangled around my naked body.
From my position on the floor, I could see a table across from me, surrounded by two folding chairs. A gas lantern sitting on the table was the only source of light, battling futilely against the darkness that claimed most of the room. My eyes skimmed along the wall to my left until they found the door. Before I had time to seriously consider bolting, a voice interrupted my escape plans.
“It’s locked. And you should know better.” It was a male voice, accent clipped and precise, coming from my right, on the other side of the room. I pulled the sheet tighter around my body and raised my head over the edge of the cot.
He sat on a folding chair several feet away, leaning back so I couldn’t see his features in the shadows. “I guess you’re not thirsty after all,” he commented. With a hollow clunk, he set what must have been a cup on the floor.
There was something familiar about him.
“It’s okay with me if you want to stay where you are,” he continued, “but you might be more comfortable if you got back in bed. You’ve been through a lot.”
“What happened?” I assumed he would know what I meant. Before I’d lost consciousness, I’d been sure I was dying of internal injuries. And my wrist had been shattered. Now—I felt fine. Absolutely fine.
“Your physical injuries were healed.”
“You must have a hell of a medical facility here then,” I snapped. “Why did I have any injuries at all? I’m dead, right?”
He chuckled drily. “We’re all dead. But we breathe. We bleed, too. The body you have here can be hurt just like the one you had before. It can be killed as well. And you never know where you’ll end up if that happens.”
I nodded cautiously.
“There’s a clean shirt and pants here for you.” He tossed the garments onto the cot between us, along with a flimsy pair of slippers.
I reached for them. “Turn your back.”
He laughed. “You’re joking, right? If you want to put the clothes on, put them on. Or feel free to crouch on the floor, wrapped in a sheet. Either way, we’re going to talk.”
This time I was the one who laughed, but even to me, it sounded just this side of hysterical. “The last time one of you said that to me, it didn’t go so well.”
“Ah. I’m sorry about that. Amid has been short-tempered and restless lately. And you humiliated him—several times. But what he did was unacceptable. We don’t work like that.”
“Glad to hear it.” I glared at him as I sat down on the floor and tied the sheet around the back of my neck so it covered the front of my body. I pulled the pants on under it and wrenched the shirt over the top. Unfortunately, the shirt was more like a tent, and the pants hung loosely from my hips, threatening a humiliating slide at the worst moment. “Would a belt be too much to ask?”
“It would,” he said as he stood up and leaned forward into the weak pool of lamplight, giving me the first real glimpse of his face. “I’m Malachi, by the way.” He held out his hand.
Crap. It was him—the Guard from the street fight. The guy the rhino Guards had said would wring the truth out of me. The one they seemed to fear and hate. The one who murdered two people right in front of Nadia.
His features were smooth and unlined, and yet somehow still carried that air of ferocity and defiance I’d observed before. The deep voids of his eyes were surrounded by thick, black lashes and full of confidence and threat. It was as if he’d already assessed my weaknesses and ticked off all the possible ways to kill me, so now he could relax and be friendly. His was not a soft face, but it held a harsh, dangerous sort of beauty. Dangerous being the operative word. I reached out carefully to shake his hand, like I might pet a viper or a shark.
“I’m Lela.”
His hand was warm over mine. His grip was strong. I pulled back quickly. He let me, though his gaze lingered on mine. “A pleasure, Lela. Now, please tell me what you’re doing in my city.”
“Um…the same thing as everyone else. I killed myself,” I explained dully, trying to droop my face into that look of sorrowful self-absorption I’d seen on all the residents in this city. I’d seen what he did to people who defied him, and I didn’t feel like being introduced to the business end of his knife. I would play dumb until I figured out the magical combination of words that would spring the lock on this cage.
“Your behavior suggests you have another agenda.” His voice was mild as he pulled out one of the folding chairs next to the table and sat down. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. He wasn’t wearing armor or any obvious weaponry and looked perfectly casual in a pair of fatigue pants and a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt. He looked like any ordinary high school senior. One who was in terrific shape. One who killed people in his spare time.
Satisfied that he was at a reasonably safe distance, I sank down on the cot, happy not to have to hold my pants up any longer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, still attempting to sound mournful.
His eyebrows shot up, though he didn’t really look surprised. “Is that so? Let me give you some information, then. Apart from the Guards, there are only two types of creatures in this city who pay any attention to others. Most of the souls within these walls are pretty busy dealing with themselves. But I think you know that.”
“Who says I’m not busy dealing with myself?”
“You were seen trying to talk to several people last night.”
I rolled my eyes, then caught myself and tried to look depressed again. “Is that against the law here?”
He smiled. “Not at all,” he said evenly, “but it does draw our attention.”
“I haven’t been here long. I’m just trying to figure this place out.”
“Again, that’s not typical behavior for the residents of this city. Which makes you one of two things. Either you’re a Mazikin, and I will destroy you, or you are ready to go before the Judge and get out of this city.”
I definitely did not want to be destroyed. I also didn’t want to get out of the city. Well, I did, desperately—but not before I found Nadia. “I have no idea what a Mazikin is. I’d know if I was one, right? I’m not quite ready to leave, though. I have some issues to deal with….” I tried to sound dazed.
God, I am such a pathetic actress.
The side of his mouth twitched, like he was trying not to laugh. “Lela, you have exhibited some very aggressive behavior. You assaulted a Guard when he tried to place you under arrest—”
That jerked my head up. “Hey now, he didn’t say anything about arresting me. One minute I’m minding my own business, and the next he’s assaulting me.”
His eyes flashed. “He said you were consorting with a known Mazikin recruiter.”
“What? I’d never seen that creepy little man until right before your friend jumped me.”
“What did he say to you? What were you talking about?”
“He made some racist comment and then tried to get me to go with him.”
“Did he say where?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked like he was ready to take action, which made me shrink back instinctively.
“He didn’t have time. Your friend Amid rudely interrupted our conversation.” My mouth didn’t cower with the rest of me.
He sat back, as if I had disappointed him. “Ah, well, if he hadn’t, you’d have found yourself in some very serious trouble.”
I scoffed, the heat of frustration blasting along my skin. “Yeah, thanks. Glad I’m not in any ‘serious trouble.’ What the hell is wrong with you? I guess getting beaten to death by a huge, scary troll is just the funny, unserious kind of trouble around here….”
“Again, I apologize for what Amid did. The Guards thought you were a Mazikin. I don’t excuse their behavior, but they are on edge right now.” The folding chair squeaked across the floor as he rose to pace. “In addition to their usual activities, Mazikin have killed five Guards in the last month, including Amid’s closest friend.”
Before I saw him move, he leaned over me, his face inches from mine, his arms braced on either side of the cot. He inhaled deeply, just like he’d done to Nadia. “You don’t smell like them. But you don’t smell like any of the others, either.”
I managed to stay very still, terrified of what he would do next. His cheek brushed mine. All my muscles contracted at once, and my skin was suddenly too tight. I shook my head, trying to release some of the heat pooling in my cheeks. He pulled back abruptly. “If you’re helping them, I’m going to find out. Tell me what I need to know now or—”
“Or what?” I challenged, refusing to back down from the threat in his eyes, glad for the reminder to stay focused. “You’re going to pull an Amid and ‘talk’ to me?”
He made a frustrated sound and resumed his pacing. “It’s my job to keep the residents of this city safe.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, “by cutting their throats.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. I’m sure you’re very good at your job.”
He halted midpace and put his hands on his hips. “I need to know why you’re in this city. You clearly don’t belong here, but you don’t seem to want to leave. Nearly everyone here wants to leave or at least find some kind of escape. So, since you don’t, I need to know what you do want. Maybe I can help you.”
I was so desperate to find Nadia that for a half second I wondered if maybe he could. He’d seen Nadia—maybe he knew where she was. Then the face of the frightened housewife shimmered in my head. He’d killed her in cold blood. No, Malachi would not help me, and I couldn’t trust him with Nadia. Or myself, for that matter.
“Help me? I’m surprised you haven’t killed me yet.”
“Do I look like someone who would want to kill you?” He smiled in a charming sort of way, obviously trying to look harmless. I almost laughed. He wasn’t a very good actor either.
When I didn’t answer, he sank back into the folding chair. “All right, you won’t tell me why you’re here. Let’s try some simpler questions, then. Although it appears contrary to your very nature, could you try to give me some straightforward answers? Were you in the military?”
“Are you kidding me? I was in high school.”
“High school,” he said quietly. “You’re American. And a civilian?”
“Uh, yes. An American civilian.”
“Lovely. A straight answer. Keep it up. Did somebody train you?”
“No, nobody trained me. Unless you count the Rhode Island child welfare and juvenile justice systems. Why?”
Malachi held up his hand and ticked off the reasons with his fingers. “You stole a Guard’s weapon. If I’m not mistaken, it belonged to a Gate Guard. Which means you managed to do it on your way into the city. You escaped Amid even after he had you in hand. You slashed his leg in just the right place, preventing him from chasing you. Under extreme duress, injured and cornered, you threw a knife and hit a target—”
“It’s not like I hit something vital.”
“Under duress,” he replied smoothly. “After he cracked several of your vertebrae and broke your ribs, you struck him with the force and angle necessary to break his nose—in very close quarters and despite his considerable size advantage. And then you stole one of his weapons and used it to shatter his cheekbone. That is my concrete, tangible evidence that you’ve been well trained. But how about the intangibles?”
He pointed a finger at me and continued. “You are crafty—I’m willing to bet you had a plan when you came into this city. You are observant—I can see it in every sweep of your eyes across this room. And you continued fighting in the face of insurmountable odds and what was, I do not doubt, excruciating pain. You were still trying to fight when I pulled Amid off you and picked you up off that floor, despite the fact that your injuries would likely have been fatal. So,” he concluded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “my theory is that you were trained and sent to infiltrate this city. I just want to know why.”
Oh my God. No one in my whole life had ever given me that much credit. Too bad it was coming in exactly the wrong situation from exactly the wrong person. He made me sound like some assassin ninja spy. Watch out for evil Super Lela, here to bring your city down from the inside! I started to giggle. “For all your evidence, you have drawn some seriously demented conclusions.”
In an instant he was out of his chair and behind me on the cot, pulling me against him, a long arm encircling me and pinning my arms in front of me.
I drew my feet up and stomped them on the mattress as I arched back. His head smacked against the wall, but he was much taller and stronger. He bent forward, folding me into a painful position that kept my legs straight and stole my leverage. Fighting my rising panic, I threw my head back in an effort to smash his face, but all it hit was the rock-hard ridge of his shoulder. He had positioned himself perfectly, preventing me from being able to strike at him in any way. Even through the inky wash of frantic thoughts and memories, I registered the snick of a blade being drawn.
I should have known he’d be armed.
He held the hunting knife in his right hand and used its razor-sharp tip to edge up the loose sleeve of my shirt, revealing my tattoo. I started to tremble. I hated feeling weak. I hated him even more for making me feel it.
“I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, but please don’t mistake my amusement for patience,” he said in a perfectly calm, completely deadly voice. His breath was warm as it skimmed across my cheek. “I take my job very seriously. Which means, unfortunately for you, that I will do whatever is necessary to discover your true purpose for being here.” He positioned the blade of the knife against my arm, just above the tattoo. I bit back a whimper and tried to struggle, but he pressed the edge of the blade a little harder into my arm. I held still.
“That’s better, thank you. Now, I believe this face is important to you. So if you don’t tell me why you’re here, right now, I will slice it off your arm and burn it in front of you. Do you believe me, Lela?”
I nodded. Furious tears streamed from the corners of my eyes, wetting his cheek. He smiled against my skin. “Speak, or I start cutting.”
I knew he’d do it. I’d seen what he was capable of. He would steal Nadia from me forever if I didn’t speak. “I’m here for her,” I moaned. “I came here to get her out.”
He pulled the blade away, letting it hover now, a threat, a promise. “Who is she?”
“Nadia. My best friend. She killed herself. I don’t even know why. But she’s here, and she’s so scared.” I cried helplessly, sagging forward. “I snuck into the city to get her.” Malachi was motionless and silent. I took a chance. “Please,” I begged, “after you kill me, don’t go after her. She will never get out without help. Without me. She’s no threat to you.”
“I know that,” he said dismissively. The stubble on his jaw scraped against my temple as he spoke. “You said you sneaked into the city. Didn’t you arrive at the Suicide Gates?”
“No, not really. When I…died, I arrived outside, in a field. But I saw the city, and I knew that’s where she was. I couldn’t stay out there when I knew she was trapped in here.”
“Are you telling me you arrived in the Countryside and chose to come into the city? To rescue your friend?” He sounded completely baffled.
“Yes. I didn’t want to, but she needs me. I had to try.” I stared at Nadia’s face on my arm, knowing I would never see that face in person again. My tears hit the tattoo, became Nadia’s tears.
“You didn’t want to,” he repeated, his voice harboring a million questions. But he didn’t ask them. Instead, he straightened, giving me a little breathing room. His arm was wrapped across my chest, and his fingers curled over my shoulder, resting gently on me, almost tenderly, in sharp contrast to the blade he held in his other hand. I ventured a glance at his face.
“I think I believe you,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to my arm. “But how did you know what awaited you here?”
The bitter bark of laughter escaped before I could stop it. “I think it would be fair to say I grossly underestimated what awaited me here.”
“You had a plan coming in. You have her face on your arm, you—”
“I had her face tattooed on my arm because I wanted her with me.”
“But that’s what you were doing, wasn’t it? You were asking people if they’d seen her.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “So how did you know she was here? No one on Earth knows about this place. They only guess: Purgatory. Hell. Naraka. Hawiyah. Hades. Sheol. Gehenna. All religions attempt to explain what happens to people who kill themselves, but no one is certain. Many people who arrive here are in shock for a long time once they see where they are. How did you know what to expect?” His arms tightened around me as his thighs tensed on either side of mine.
The fluttering pace of my heart nearly choked me. There probably wouldn’t be a second chance if he didn’t like my answer, but I had no brain space for anything but the truth. “I…I tried to kill myself once. I showed up at the Gates and was about to go through when I was revived. But ever since then, this place has haunted me. I never really got away from it. I dreamed of it. Sometimes I even saw it—like a shadow over the real world. It was scary as hell, and I hated it, but it made me want to live.”
“You wandered the city even when you were alive?”
Praying he would believe me, I nodded my head, and it bounced off his collarbone.
“I have heard of this,” he said thoughtfully. “Ghosts who roam the city but are not really part of it. It makes sense that it would be people who had tried to kill themselves but did not succeed. But that doesn’t explain how you know about your friend.”
“When Nadia died, I started having nightmares and visions of her here. I was inside her head, seeing and feeling everything with her. I saw her come into the city. I’ve seen her wandering every day, starving and frightened. And I saw things I’d never noticed before in my own nightmares.” I saw you kill people.
“You saw the Guards. You noticed where we keep our weapons.”
“Yes. When I decided to come get her, I thought I might need to defend myself. And her.” From you.
“But these visions of your friend. Did you have that ability before?”
“You mean, was I, like, psychic or something? Uh, no.”
A few minutes ticked by in silence. I tried not to squirm, but his breath was hot on my skin. His heart beat against my spine, making my insides vibrate in time with its rhythm. It was too much. Too much closeness. Too much heat. I couldn’t translate the mixed signals inside my own body, let alone the warmth coming from his. Just when I was about to lose it, he said, “I’m going to let go of you slowly. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to hurt me, though I guess I’d understand if you did.”
He spread his arms. I darted forward and turned around, backing up against the wall with a folding chair between us.
Malachi sighed, eyeing my white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair. “Please don’t try to hit me with that.”
“So what happens now?” I asked, pleased that I sounded calm and controlled rather than like a seething mass of fury and despair and confusion.
He held my gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re on an impossible mission. Three thousand people arrive at the Suicide Gates every single day. Haven’t you noticed the size of this city? You could wander for years and never find her. And if by some miracle you did, there is only one way out. You have to go before the Judge. If your friend is not ready to receive a positive verdict, she will not get out. End of story.”
I clenched my teeth. “I have to find her. It’s the only reason I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to do that.”
I pressed my back against the wall and looked to see if the knife was still in his hand. It wasn’t. I’d been watching him for all but a few seconds, and he’d somehow concealed it again without my noticing.
As often as I’d assessed people for their soft spots, their vulnerabilities and weaknesses, I recognized a person without any. But then I saw an opening. I stared at him, taking in the glint of curiosity in his eyes as he returned my scrutiny, the subtle slide of his gaze along my body and over my face. Despite being on duty as my inquisitor and guard, he had just checked me out. As much as I hated to think about it, as much as I could barely stand any guy looking at me like that, a sneaky, sleazy thought occurred to me. Maybe you could use this to get to his key….
I pushed the thought away and my gaze flicked back to the door, but his body blocked it from sight in the next second. “Don’t, Lela.” He pinned the folding chair to the ground with one of his knees. “You were in the Countryside—you know what it’s like there. Don’t you want to go back?”
What was I supposed to say to that? Of course I wanted to go back. I bowed my head. I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Most people here can’t see it, even when they’re right next to the wall. They’re so absorbed in their own sadness that they can’t see past the darkness. But you can. You belong out there.” Something longing and broken in his voice brought my eyes to his. He moved a little closer. “I can take you to the Judge. I will take you myself.”
Like a probation officer. Perfect. “I’ve been before judges in the past. Not pleasant experiences.”
“This will be different, believe me. You’ll get out.”
I looked up at him and felt like I was drowning. Like I was sinking with weighted limbs into a bottomless sea, watching Nadia grow more distant and unreachable as I descended. Everyone has a limit, and I’m no different. I was tired and frightened and wanted to surrender to him. Certainly there seemed no way to defeat him. Then I looked down at my arm.
I shook my head. “You have no grounds to keep me here. I have to go find her.”
He laughed bitterly and took a step back, moving his knee off the chair. “Where do you think you are?” He scoffed. “Americans. Your conceptions of civil rights have become truly comical. Look, I can keep you here for years if I want to. But that’s not what I’m going to do. Instead, I will get you out of this city, whether you want to go or not.”
I couldn’t push my sneaky thought away any longer. Arguing wasn’t working, so I had to go for pathetic and manipulative. And utterly terrifying. I took a deep breath. “All right,” I said, stepping around the chair. “Fine. I’ll go. Thank you for helping me.”
He watched me with narrowed eyes as I approached him. I forced my feet forward, dread rising with each step. Did I really want to poke a sharp stick at this particular dragon?
I had to. If I could find and steal his key, I could figure out how to get out of there. He watched the motion of my hand as it rose slowly between us and came to rest on his chest. I hoped the way my hands shook would work in my favor. That he would interpret my unsteadiness as desire instead of fear. Encouraged by the hitch in his breath, by the way his eyes widened slightly as I touched him, I slid my other hand along his waist, searching for a key ring…and finding nothing but a lot of muscles.
His heart pounded beneath my palm, and I hoped his hormones might take over, that he might start acting like an actual teenage guy instead of a Guard. I leaned my forehead against his chest as spots floated across my vision. Don’t chicken out. This is for Nadia.
His fingers closed around my chin and tipped it up until I was looking into his eyes. Every part of me tensed to keep from stumbling back. With agonizing slowness, he bent his head until his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from mine. My stomach lurched as I stared into his dangerous, dark gaze.
Stay still. You have to get that key.
My breath escaped my lungs in uneven little huffs. I wasn’t sure I could endure this without screaming. It was too confusing and too intense. Too close, too real, too likely to get out of control. Too dangerous, too hot. Would he hurt me? Would he be rough? I almost pulled back at the raw images that plowed through my head.
But I had survived rough. I’d gotten pretty good at disconnecting my brain from my body when I absolutely had to. I could get through it for her. Not wanting to think about it anymore, I tried to press my lips to his, but his fingers tightened on my chin and stopped me. For a moment he held me there. He closed his eyes and breathed me in. His fingers spread from my chin to stroke my cheek, a feather of a touch. I held my breath, waiting for his mouth to descend on mine, wondering what it would feel like, terrified to find out.
“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered against my mouth. I froze. He stepped away from me nimbly, wearing an amused smile. “I don’t blame you for trying, but it’s unnecessary. And I’m afraid you’ve just won yourself a stay in the holding cell. I’ll come get you in the morning and take you to the Sanctum—where the Judge presides.”
I stared at him, slack jawed, humiliated—and shamefully relieved. He hammered on the door twice with his closed fist, never taking his eyes off mine. Keys jangled as someone outside unlocked the door. He didn’t have a key. He had locked himself in there with me. I felt very stupid.
Thus ended my initial foray as a sex kitten.