Chapter 17

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Helena lead me downstairs. There was a whole area behind the ground floor stairs that, in the dim light of the previous night, I had completely missed. 

We passed through a dining area of sorts, heading deeper into the house to a kitchen straight out of a TV show. 

Cabinets lined the wall above two stoves, a sleek-looking microwave in the middle. To the left sat a fridge the size of my closet with a freezer on top, and to the right was the biggest sink I'd ever seen. 

Various appliances I didn't know the names of dotted the countertop, all so silver my eyes were beginning to hurt. And in the center of it all, a little island table littered with papers. 

"Woah," I said, eyes wide. Helena went over to the sink, rinsing my mug out. Meanwhile, I turned toward the cabinets.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the tea boxes are, would you?" I asked Helena. She blinked rapidly at me.

"The drink comes in boxes?" She asked, squinting slightly. I sighed.

"Er, never mind," I muttered, turning back toward the cabinets. I opened the one next to the microwave. To my surprise, it was mostly empty, save for a few spices on the bottom shelf. Most other cabinets yielded the same results - sparsely populated except for a few necessities.

Finally, I found two boxes of tea, green and black. I picked the green, then noticed Helena watching me intently. I gave her a wave, and she waves back, eyes trained intently on the box in my hand. I stifled a giggle, then turned to the stove. 

There was already a teapot on one stove. I shook it to find that there's also still some water left. A few minutes of waiting, and it boiled. I motioned to Helena for the mug, and she quickly handed it over, still watching like a hawk. 

I poured the water, dunked in the teabag, and moved it around a little. "Ta-da!" I said, wiggling the fingers of my left hand at my creation. Helena, eyes wide, clapped, and I grinned.

"That was very easy," Helena said, studying the contents of my mug. I picked it up, walking carefully so as not to spill, and we headed back out of the kitchen.

"Yup," I said. "Probably why it's so popular."

Hesitantly, Helena held her hand out. "May I try some?"

"Go for it," I said, stopping to slowly handing the mug over. Helena took it, taking a tiny sip. She jerked back, eyes wide.

"That is much too hot. And the taste...so plain and...leaf-like," she stared at it in obvious distaste. I couldn't help cracking up, and Helena smiled too.

I took back the mug, and we continued through the dining room. "Yeah, green tea isn't really for everyone. Especially without any sugar or honey."

"I suspect it would be much better with sweetener," Helena said. I shook my head.

"I dunno. You get more of that unique green tea flavor without it. Like, if you like sugar so much then just go ahead and drink a glass of-" I stopped, the rest of my sentence dying on my tongue. We entered the front room at the same time the front door opened, revealing a familiar face. The relaxed smile on my face melted into a scowl. It was Liam. 

He caught sight of me at the same time, striking blue eyes glaring right at my face. I blinked, squinting. But no, Liam's eyes are still blue.

I walked closer, my dislike set aside in favor of confusion. No matter how close I got, Liam's eyes were still a sharp cyan. I found myself less than a foot away, on my toes and squinting up to his face.

"What the hell's with your eyes?" I wonder out loud, examining him as if he were a statue. Suddenly, his cold hand covered my face, pushing me fully back onto the ground. 

"Get out of my face," he grunted, trudging up the stairs. As he shoved past me, I catch the stench of something. It's something I know I've never smelled before, but that sent a jolt of fear and disgust through me anyway. My stomach churned.

Liam smelled of death.

I turn back to Helena, confused and bewildered. Judging by the frown on her face, she could smell it too. 

"What..." I started to ask, not quite knowing what to say. 

"Oh dear," Helena muttered. "We must check on Liam." I nodded. I wasn't concerned about Liam himself, like Helena probably was, but I needed to know if anyone had actually gotten hurt. I had no idea what I'd do if I found out someone had, but I still needed desperately to know.

We both jogged up the stairs after him, tea sloshing all over the stairs.

Liam's door was opened wide, as if he'd ripped it open and hadn't bother to close it afterward. I peered inside. 

Liam was sitting on his rug, hair messy as though he'd been running his fingers through it, legs tucked under him. He stared blankly at the ground. Though I only had a side view, I could tell how wide his eyes were, could see the grim set of his mouth. 

I stood there for a minute or two longer, but Liam didn't budge. I looked back at Helena, who stood to the side, face pinched with worry.

"Are you two just gonna stand there?" Liam asked, still not looking up from the carpet. 

At that point, it felt like I'd seen at least three different sides of Liam. The almost kind version who'd brought me tea and turned on the light. The gleeful, childish version who'd teased Lucca and me - annoying and harmless. And, of course, the unfeeling, uncaring, cold side who'd chased me through the woods. Who'd slapped me. Who'd cowed Lucca with just a few words. 

I didn't know which one I was dealing with, though I had a guess. I stayed outside the door, heart thumping in fear despite myself. 

Helena, though, marched right in, a look of determination mixing with her concern. 

"Welcome back, Liam," Helena said, standing before Liam, stiff as a board with her hands behind her back. Liam glanced up to her, curiously blue eyes utterly emotionless. I shivered.

"Hello, Helena," Liam said, turning back to the carpet. "How was the prisoner?"

The prisoner? He'd never called me that before.

"She was very well behaved, sir. We followed your instructions to the letter." Helena barked. Liam made a hm noise, bobbing his messy hair. 

For a second or two, no one moved. Then, so fast that my eyes didn't even catch the movement, Liam stood up and grabbed Helena's chin. She was tall, towering almost a foot over my 5'3", but Liam was taller, tilting her face up to meet his. 

Helena let out an almost imperceptible whimper as Liam squeezed her face hard. 

"You followed every instruction I gave you? Too the letter?" He hissed, anger and malice completely warping his voice so much that I grimaced. This did not appear to be any side of him I'd ever seen.

"Yes sir!" Helena barked out, muffled by Liam's grip. Apart from that, though, she had no reaction, her face displaying not even a hint of discomfort.

"Then tell me why I saw you walking my prisoner around my house like you own them. Did I tell you to do that?"

"No!" Helena said brusquely. Liam's grip visibly tightened, and I gasped for Helena, who remained completely still. 

"Interesting. Why, then, would you do it?" Liam asked, sounding almost strangled. 

"I..." Helena faltered, voice wavering with uncertainty. "I didn't think, sir!"

"Of course you didn't. You're a soldier. Nothing but my lap dog. It's not your job to think," Liam said, disgust twisting his face into something monstrous. I saw the words hit their target as Helena's eyes widened for just a second, going blank right after.

I wanted to storm in at that moment, to scream at Liam for his words. But I couldn't. I was petrified, just like in the park. Unable to help her. I looked down at my arm. Useless.

He released her, and Helena relaxed. I saw dark, almost black marks appear on her skin, but she didn't touch them, hands still behind her back. She looked down. 

"Leave, Helena," Liam said, calmer. Helena nodded once, held her head high, then marched out of the room, eyes focused straight ahead. Not looking at me. Not looking at anything.

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