Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

JANE

Pleasure. It’s what my body understands. Maybe for the first time, even. Warm, comforting, safe pleasure.

In some dream-like state, hot breaths caress my neck, causing an eruption of tingles down my spine. Hips gyrating slowly underneath the not-so firm grips of someone’s hands. Cushiony velvet rubbing between my legs, inside me. Tiny grunts of a soothing baritone resonate in my eardrums. If I could turn my head, I’d know what was working behind me, moist droplets from someone’s skin rubbing against my back. Lids so heavy, I can’t even open my eyes.

I’m as fluid as the wetness left between my thighs before returning to that peaceful rest again.

“Wake up, V.”

My head hurts. Why does my head hurt every morning when I wake up now? I’m not old enough to start my days feeling this way. With a groan, I stretch in the hotel bed we reached late in the night after landing. The sheets are probably luxury, but not as nice as Cal’s. A week in the Von Dovish palace, and I’ve already become the princess with the pea.

As my eyes take their first look around, a slightly hairy carved chest leans over me and releases the binds holding me to the mattress. My lips lift into a small smile at his cut abdominal muscles leading down to a deep muscular V in his low-cut jeans, knowing the giant mass they contain that gives me such good tingly feelings. His bright green eyes dance over my face with some concern.

“Why are you always so happy in the mornings?”

“’Cause I’m with you.” Remembering my dream, my brow furrows as he moves to my ankle restraints and releases them. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of their binds, almost like a security blanket at night. “Cal?”

As he walks to his suitcase and pulls out a black T-shirt, he half turns his head to me. “Yeah?”

“Do you fuck me when I’m asleep?”

Once he tugs the cotton fabric over his head, he runs his fingers through his hair, styling it loosely while watching himself in the full-length mirror. Before I ask again, his gaze falls on me. Flatly, he responds, “Yes.”

Sliding off the silky white sheets, I pad over to him on my bare feet, my sleep shirt falling to my upper thighs. His body stiffens as he lets me have his back, and I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek in between his firm shoulder blades. “You don’t have to do that. I love having sex with you. I want to. Do you-do you drug me, too?”

The rumbles as he clears his throat vibrate my skin through his ribcage. “Yes.”

A quick breath of air flows over my parted lips. Confusion pinches my face. “But…why?”

Spinning, he clutches my upper arms and gives me a fierce, wild-eyed expression. “I don’t trust you, but I’m desperate for something I can’t have. If you’re asleep, I can pretend… Pretend you’re real, that you’re mine. I can control you. And you won’t feel some shame from having me inside you.”

My bottom lip quivers and my voice shakes as I whisper, “I don’t feel shame with you. For once, I don’t. I am real. I’m yours. All you have to do is take me. I’m willing and ready.”

Softening his expression, his eyes change from a cold spring breeze to new leaves blossoming in the sun. Holding me firm, that look changes back to distant. “I don’t believe you.”

I ease out of his grip and wander into the generous bathroom, outfitted in marble with a sunken tub. He’s right. Why should he trust me? What could I possibly say to make him do so? If he’s going to kill me, I’ll be happy, as long as whatever life I have left to survive, I get to live it with him.

The penthouse suite we’re in has bath oils that smell like roses. Pouring some in the filling tub, I slip into the hot water, relaxing completely. A small tap sounds on the door.

“Yeah?”

Cal’s head pokes inside and his eyes sparkle when he spots my naked body in the water. “Uh, figured we would go out and spend the day in the city. Then, try the location Alpha sent me tonight.”

Easily, my face lightens as a smile stretches my lips. “That sounds wonderful.” Another date with Cal. Maybe if he spends enough time with me, he’ll see. He could get to know me. I could get to know myself.

With one last lingering look, he disappears behind the door.

A cozy sigh eases from my lungs as I tip my head back against the rim of the tub, letting it hit the muscles at the base of my skull, easing the tension in my head. As a song enters my mind, I hum it while gently massaging my arms with the water and oils. Opening one eye, I spot a black object hanging underneath the sink counter. Taped to the bottom of the stone surface is a burner phone.

Just as I wonder if Cal put it there, it lights up with a message from an unknown number. Slipping my hands through the water silently, I grasp it and tug it off the tape, opening it with a flip of the case.

Unknown

Extraction mission go.

Operation killjoy in effect.

My heart stops beating for a full second before speeding to catch up its rhythm. Operation killjoy, the end of my mission. It’s time to kill Cal, and Dash will be coming for me. It’s been too long for me to check in, so they went ahead with it.

Hurriedly my fingers fly over the buttons and send a response signal, but the message is not deliverable, as expected. They’ll be coming for us, and they know exactly where we are. Either I take Cal out, or they take me out… Perhaps they end both of us.

As I clean up and dry off with an extravagantly soft cotton towel, I think about my strategy. For my entire life, I’ve lived on my own. Of course, I had to rely on my teammates, but that has been a contingent relationship only based on what we could do for each other or the mission. It took hard-fought lessons during my training to realize I was nobody to them. Just a weapon, a means to an end. So much so, I began to believe it about myself.

I don’t remember my childhood before the basement, but I don’t think I want to. All that comes up is a vague feeling of sadness and loss. Cal has given me some of the most genuine happy times in my life, and renewed hope. There’s hope that things can and will get better and that I could be in control of that.

With or without him.

Survival has always been paramount. I’ve always had to fight and claw and scratch and evade, lie, seduce, manipulate. Cheat or steal. Whatever it took, I was going to endure it all.

And with that in mind, I get dressed for our date out in the big city.

“I thought I’d take you to this bakery I enjoy. See if you like it,” Cal says, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

Bounding over to him, I reach up on my tiptoes and place my lips in a smack against his cheek. The skin underneath my affection turns a bit pink. “That sounds lovely.” Threading my small hand in his, I tug him toward the door. “Come on! There’s so much to see!”

Cal waves off his chauffeur as we exit the glass doors of the hotel, saying the weather is too nice to be inside. I think he did it for me, knowing how much I enjoy the outdoors. The streets are clean and busy as we climb the hilly sidewalk to our first destination. Practically skipping in the sparkling sunshine, I never let go of his hand as his long legs walk hurriedly next to me. A few giggles escape my mouth, and when I check out his face, he’s smiling like I haven’t seen before. Light, carefree.

Before I get too far ahead of him, he pulls me back to him and wraps an arm around my waist, so we amble together toward the store on a corner three blocks up. La Petite Pâtisserie stands at the end of a row of quaint buildings, likely erected in the mid-century. The entire side has been plastered in pink, with white and black awnings covering the two stories. Gold letters outline their large, elegant sign scrawled in fancy script.

The smell of fresh bread and sugar hits my nose, making my stomach crunch with hunger. Cal opens the white iron-barred door for me and waves me inside with a small bow. When I enter, the delicious scents are stronger, but momentarily wash away as I take in the beauty of the interior and the walls of display cases filled with every pastry, cake, cookie, pie, and bread I could ever imagine. Small two-seater tables line any space available, each filled with couples out for a lazy brunch. A winding staircase leads to a second story that overlooks the bakery and opens to a large patio visible from where we approached.

Warm honey meets my ear as Cal bends to say, “Get whatever you like. I’ll wait for you, and if you need to, pick ten things. Fuck! Buy the entire store, just so long as you choose.” He slips a credit card into my palm from his wallet before sauntering to the vegan section to place his order.

The sheer number of desserts is overwhelming. I consider everything one by one. Children run up to shove me out of the way so they can press their noses into the glass case, and I stoop to join them. Finally, I stop at a plate filled with fancy petit fours. Sometimes Cal would bring in a box from his home, saying his chef made them and he couldn’t eat them all. He’d casually tell me to “dig in.” These little cakes look like those, and I know I like them.

My eyes burn and swell as I make my pick. It’s another thing I learn about myself: I like petit fours. Before I can revel in that thought, a little boy with dark black curly hair and big brown eyes turns to me and points to the glass with his little finger and asks, “Is this chocolate?”

Swallowing back a lump, I say, “I think so. It looks like it has white icing on top and this sign says chocolate. D-do you like chocolate?”

His mouth curls into an easy grin. “Yeah, I like it. I don’t like vanilla. My mom always tries to get me to eat blueberry muffins, too, and that’s just not the same as chocolate chips.”

I snort. “No, it’s not.”

“Deshawn, get over here.” The boy’s mother snaps her fingers as she waits in line to pay. He gives me a smirk and runs back to her, tugging on her sleeve and asking for the “little chocolate cakes.”

“Do you want one of these?” A bored-looking teenager points to the wire shelves in front of me.

Standing, I confidently say, “Yep. I want those two.”

After paying with Cal’s card, I carry my bag of treats upstairs to find him leaning back in a white iron chair on the patio. A cool breeze causes a rustle in the lush greenery surrounding the ledge as I slide into the chair opposite him. He’s reading his phone, but his bright green eyes jump up when I sit. Putting his phone away, he gives me a small smile, as if he can’t even help himself around me.

“What did you pick?”

Pulling out my cakes, I show him with a wave of my fingers.

“Ha, like Monet’s. You like hers.” The way his eyes crinkle makes me think he knew that all along.

“Is that why you brought me here?”

One of his shoulders shrugs. “Maybe. I thought you would like it, yes.”

Taking a bite of the pastry, my moans vibrate my teeth as I taste the sugar, flour, and butter deliciousness. It’s just as good, if not better, than Monet’s, though I’d never tell her. Trying to swallow my bite slowly, I choke out, “So Monet was always making those cakes for me.”

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he tosses it onto his plate filled with flaky crusts from his vegan croissant. “Yep.”

Each time I take a bite, my throat wants to shudder with pleasure, but when the sound escapes, Cal’s eyelids droop lower and lower as I chew. A heavy swallow causes his throat to bob before he licks his bottom lip. “You’re enjoying it, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying watching you.” With the husky sound of his voice, my clit pulses twice. I feel full on food, but hungry in other ways. “You’re done already?”

I give him a little nod. “Where are we off to next?” Silently, I’m hoping he’ll just take me back to the hotel room and fuck me again, but this time, I want to be awake.

“There’s a bookstore nearby. I thought we may go there. Do you want to?”

My brow furrows with consternation. During my studies, I learned that Cal loves reading and finishes 500-page books in hours. Part of my education was to consume all the literature he had, but secretly I skimmed everything because it was all so tedious. My mouth could always talk my way out of a book report, so Dot never caught on.

The thought of going into a big store with boring books makes my lips flatten into a grimace for just a moment. Not to mention, flashbacks to my time trying to pick a book in the store in Gnarled Pine Hollow. What if I can’t choose?

“We don’t have to, but I thought you may want to choose something you would like to read. Maybe on the plane ride back or in the tub you seemed to enjoy.”

“Let’s go!” Faking bravado, I stand and put on a smile.

This time, it’s Cal who pulls my hand into his and then tugs me into his body, putting his arm around my shoulders. He snaps his fingers as if wanting mine back, and I lace them through his as we walk together to the next store.

When he opens the narrow painted wooden door, the musty old paper smell fills my nostrils, giving me a sense of calm despite the overstuffed chaos inside. Placing his lips against the top of my head, he hums, “Get whatever you want. If you need people to carry the things you buy, I’ll hire them to do so. Just enjoy yourself.”

Before he lets me loose, I grip his wrist. “No. Cal? Will you—Will you stay with me this time? I want to wander with you.”

The worried look on his face fades as he squints his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching. “Yeah. You want me to come with you?”

“Yes.”

With a nod, a brown curl falls across his face, which he pushes back with a quick shove of his hand. “I’m not going to help you, though. You’re on your own there. You have to pick.”

“I know. I just want to show you what I pick.”

For a rare moment, I see his white, straight teeth as he almost laughs in a wide grin. “Okay, let’s go.”

The place is old and cavernous, spanning multiple buildings piecemealed together and connected by squeaking wooden archways. Books are stuffed wherever it is possible to stick a shelf. It’s like every book ever made is in this square block of town. I have no idea what to choose, but start off in one direction without any aim. My mind can’t even focus on the myriad of visions in front of me. It’s overwhelming, but Cal is right there with me, rubbing my arm with his warm palm repeatedly in soft, gentle strokes, that goofy bright smile I’ve only seen these last few days still plastered on his face.

It may have been there during Skee-ball and during Mario Kart, but this is like a reverent smile. Like he’s done something he’s very proud of.

After several minutes of just drifting, getting lost in stacks, and doubling back on myself several times, I pick up books based on how I imagine they would feel and flip through the soft pages. Cal stands next to me patiently, never asking a question, just observing.

Then, I see it. A room filled with pink, purple, blue, orange, yellow, black, gold, bold colors. Paperbacks and some hardcovers, too. The titles are catchy and clever.

“Really?” Glancing up at Cal, he laughs. Like a genuine one.

I smirk at him and ask, “What?”

“I see the way you lit up just now. Romance, huh?”

Shrugging, I wander toward a pile on a table. “I’m a girl. And these seem very educational.” To demonstrate, my hands raise a black shiny-covered one with a half-naked man on the cover titled, Conquering Her Kitty.

Within two steps, his lips press to my temple as he grabs my waist. “Get it. But I can give you a better education than him.” He pauses, then quirks his eyebrow. “On second thought, get all these here.” Gathering all the books with risqué covers on the table, he collects the lot in his full arms. “Then you can read them to me before we act them out.”

Just as I am about to take some from him, he nods toward another table and says, “Grab the rest of those there. Let’s go.”

Laughing like I haven’t since my video game victory, I hurriedly grab handfuls of romance books. Whatever is flashy and pretty, with flowers and cartoons and naked people on the covers, I hold on to as we head to the nearest counter to pay.

Cal’s stack nearly falls over on the small woman behind the register, but she sticks out a hand to stop it from leaning too far before I set my own pile next to it. “We’ll take all these, and I’ll add two thousand dollars on top of the bill for delivery to the Lordes Hotel penthouse sometime today.” The woman’s eyes broaden into saucer shapes. But Cal continues, “You’re right. If you can deliver it within two hours and pile on another fifty romance books, I’ll give you five thousand dollars. Thank you.”

After getting his credit card, she smiles brightly and says she’ll have someone bring the entire order to the penthouse “right away” as a few workers mill about and begin to load up a wooden cart with books at his loud declaration.

“Five thousand is a lot of money,” I tell him as we make our way back out into the afternoon sun. But Cal is extremely generous. He thinks of his people before all else. I just wish he held himself in the same regard.

“I don’t need it. They do. They can have it.” Turning to me, he presses his lips against my cheek. “And you can have your books. You want a library back home for them? You can have one of those, too.”

My heart immediately feels hefty at his mention of “home.” Like it’s our home. Like I’m supposed to be there.

Like it isn’t my duty to steal his passwords and kill him.

For the rest of the day, I try to pretend I’m not in a funk, but I am. I know my duty, and what the ramifications of not performing it are. I also understand that this man beside me cannot accept me as a true wife and equal because of the ways of legacy. No matter how much my being called a “mistress” upset him, he can’t wed me. If I were to give him children, they would be bastards.

And just then I realize…it’s not enough for me. Squeezing my eyes shut as we walk back from dinner to the hotel to prepare for the meeting, I try to keep my tears from escaping, from letting him know how affected I am.

I finally know what I want, and it’s something I can never have. But I also know what I have to do.

“What happened?” Cal asks back in our hotel room as I slide on some black jeans for the trek to the woods. My heart pauses its beating. Does he know about the text?

“What do you mean?” He throws on a hoodie before replying.

“I mean, you were happy. I thought we were having a good time today. Then something changed. Is it that you know I’m taking you back to your people now? Have you grown to love your master?” Pain tightens into a grip around my rib cage. He’ll never believe me.

Pausing after tugging on my jacket, I turn slowly to face him, but my lashes lower to block his face from my field of vision. “Sometimes, Cal, you’re very callous. Almost cruel. And I know why. I get it. But pushing me away won’t protect you.”

“So you’ve decided, then.”

Lifting my gaze up to meet his fierce expression, I ask, “Decided what?”

“Decided to fulfill your duty,” he says flatly. He knows.

Attempting to seem confused, I say, “N-no. Wait, what?” But it doesn’t come out as a question. This is it.

A sneer of hate comes across his cheeks as his lip curls, narrowing his eyes at me. Raising the backs of his fingers, he gingerly strokes my face. “Let’s go, Zero.”

“This is the place?”Shuffling my feet in the dirt, we wait in the near pitch-black area between trees as big as skyscrapers. The trunks are so massive, they are a perfect cover for any footfalls that may approach us from any direction. Night has yet to fully overtake us, but within the thickness of the forest, the light does not survive.

Cal hasn’t spoken to me since we left, and his response now is only a curt nod. He’s left me untied, but there’s an unspoken knowledge that if I try to run, he’ll hurt me. Probably with those darts of poison in his pocket he always carries.

Those two vials were one of the first things I learned about my target. One holds the venom, the other the cure. Darkness and light. Sun and moon. But the moon doesn’t exist without the sun, and light is unrecognizable without the darkness.

Despite the deafening shield of the sequoias, my well-trained ears pick up on a difference in the wind to our west, then perhaps east. But the sounds echo through the trees in buoyant waves. Snapping my head to him, our eyes meet with a moment of clarity. We’re in danger.

Before I even realize it, my body throws itself over Cal’s as sharp zings whiz past us.

I’m diving for cover and taking him with me. As we hit the ground, more bees swarm overhead for several minutes. He’s not moving, but I shift so my hands are underneath his shoulders and crawl behind a large tree where we may be able to hide. It’s impossible to tell.

The bark isn’t exploding like it was hit with a bullet, so it has to be another type of weapon. Just as I raise up to try to get a location on the enemy or enemies, another pellet of sound whizzes nearby and sticks into the base next to my nose. It’s a dart with a feather tip. And if I know anything, it’s probably laced with something deadly. No one would waste time trying to hit us with regular darts. They wouldn’t do any damage.

I pretend to be hit with it and fall on top of Cal, slumping like his body is. Lying there for several minutes, no other sounds arrest my ears. The missiles have stopped flying past us, and we seem to be alone, which is odd. Why would the enemy leave us here?

Snapping to a stand, I scan the area immediately surrounding us while making quick zig-zagging sprints between the trees. There’s no sign of our predators, and no bows. Several darts stick out of the bases of the trees where we were, but that’s all.

When I sprint back to Cal, he’s lying in the same position he fell in, like a puddle of a human being with his tongue almost lolling about, eyelids half closed. My heart pounds harder in my chest at the sight of him hurt there. The pain of seeing his limp body is almost too much to bear. He’s been hit in the neck, the silver metal sticking out like a knife.

Pulling the dart out, I sniff it. It’s odorless and colorless once I shine my phone on it.

“Your antivenom. Will it work?” I dig my hand into his pocket and fish out two vials: one red and the other blue. I don’t know which is which. He made these himself. Usually red is poison, but, knowing him, it may not be. “Which is it, Cal?”

As if it is a complete struggle to even move his lips, he barely whispers, “Kill me.”

“What? No! Which one? Red or blue? Cal, pay attention! Which one is the antivenom? Red or blue?” My training kicks in, but behind it is more desperation now.

His eyes shut between each of my questions. Again, he squeaks out his last reply. “Let me go. I don’t deserve to live. I am the poison.”

Gritting my teeth, I shake him until his eyelids look at me for a moment. If he dies, it would be so easy for me to live. I’d have completed my mission. But there was never a time I was going to go through with it. I’d rather have died myself, if only to let him survive.

“Fuck, Cal. No! No! You’re not fucking dying. Which one, goddamn it! Which one? I’m not letting you go. I love you! Please, Cal, please. I love you!” Clutching the blue vial, I unscrew the cap. “Please don’t leave me. You saved me once. Please. Please don’t leave me here alone. I can’t do this without you.”

Tears stream down my face, and I can barely see what I’m doing as sobs wrack my chest, leaving me choking for air. I can’t lose him. I just can’t. I cough, holding the blue vial to his carotid. Taking a steadying breath, I plunge it into his artery and wait.

He doesn’t move.

Pumping his chest with my hands, I start CPR. Will this make it worse? Will it spread the poison? I don’t care. I have to do something. Pounding with my fists on his hard chest, I cry repeatedly, “Please don’t leave me. I love you! Please don’t leave. I choose you!”

He lies still until I throw my body on top of him and break down, the sheer terror of losing him sinking me quickly into a black hole of despair. Snot rolls off my nose and onto his sweatshirt, the wetness in my eyes pooling on his body.

If he dies, I don’t want to be alive.