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When I first brought up my request to attend the Valentine formal with Logan, Elijah had been adamantly against it. Even Archer, the risk-taking and danger-loving king, was skeptical about the dance. It was too chancy, they said. There were too many outcomes to predict, too many outcomes we wouldn't be able to prepare for. What with the recent attacks on the borders of Montana and Alec's betrayal, no one wanted me to go anywhere.
But then the days turned into weeks, and nothing happened. As the year transitioned from January to February, it did so in peace. There were no attacks, no threats, no imminent danger lurking around the corner. Even Alec's phone calls had stopped, and though there was the occasional skirmish with the patrols, nothing major disrupted our lives.
And so Elijah's conviction began to weaken. Thanks to Logan and Minnie, Elijah began to reconsider his decision. They spent days dropping subtle hints about the upcoming formal, mentioning the fact that I had never been to one, how Logan had always wanted to take his childhood friend to a dance, or how Minnie had never been to a social event like the formal. They appealed heavily to Elijah's sentimental and emotional side, and finally, he cracked, even offering to buy me a dress.
"You do realize the dance is an hour," Archer reminded me as he appeared in my doorway. Hastily, I closed my laptop, but not before sneaking a glance at the time. True enough, it was an hour before eight, yet I still sat in my black sweats and loose cropped t-shirt, my hair tangled in the messiest bun to date.
"Crap," I muttered. "Do you think sweats are formal enough?"
"Oh, yeah," he agreed immediately. "Totally formal. Gods, I'd go have dinner with the president in that outfit."
"Tone down the sarcasm, Arch," I reprimanded. "It's not attractive."
"Excuse you," he said in mock offense, "everything about me is attractive."
"Oh, you're right. "Everything except for your face."
My brother strode into the room and plopped himself on the edge of my bed, leaning over to yank on my hair. "Is that any way to treat your favorite older brother?"
"You're my only older brother. Plus, don't you know the trends? This is how older brothers who disappeared for eight years get treated."
Archer pouted, but a smile easily broke out on his face. Then, he picked up my laptop and held it out of my reach as I yelped in protest, leaping up to grab it.
"You want to tell me why you're not listening to me and trying to hack into Alec's files again?" he inquired, arching a dark brow. I sat back down, tasting defeat on my tongue. My eyes flickered towards the door, narrowing as suspicion crept down my spine.
Alec had already changed into his formal outfit and left to help Elijah close up the shop. However, a part of me couldn't help but fear he was somehow here, listening in on every word we were exchanging.
"I locked the front door," Archer said, his gaze following mine. "He won't be able to get in without us knowing. Besides, Elijah should have him busy with memorizing Escape Plan A right now."
"Is that why you're here? To tell me Plan B?" I asked.
"Should I? You're not even dressed to go."
I sighed, knowing that I should really get ready, but despite Logan's encouragements over the past few weeks and everyone's excitement, my interest and enthusiasm was nowhere to be found.
Archer abruptly got to his feet and left my room, but he came back swiftly with a brush and a few pins in his hand. He grabbed my red wig off the desk by the door before sitting back down on the bed. "Come here," he said, gesturing towards the floor.
Curious, I slid off the bed and sat cross-legged in front of him. He unraveled the bird's nest on my head and began combing out the strands.
"You won't be able to bypass the barriers," Archer commented as he took my hair into his fingers and began braiding them together. "Before I warned you about the block, I tried it myself. Then when I couldn't get through it, I asked Flynn. Even he couldn't break through it, but he warned me against trying harder."
Surprise flooded me when I heard that even the legendary Flynn, one of the most skilled hackers that I had ever met, couldn't break the block. What kind of people were working on that side? Just how skilled were they? What kind of potential did she have in her grasp?
"I can't help but feel like I know this kind of block. Like I've seen someone set it up in front of me," I explained, clawing at the hole in my memory that I just couldn't seem to recall. There was something lurking beneath the years that had blurred together, something swimming so close to the surface but I couldn't reel it in.
"Is that why you're stalling on the formal?" Archer assumed, though his voice told me he didn't believe the block was the only reason why I wasn't ready.
"I've got a bad feeling about it," I admitted, biting my bottom lip.
Archer was fixing the wig onto my hair, making sure it sat tight on my scalp before he began braiding the red strands together. "What about it is a bad idea besides the possibility that it'll most likely be pink-themed and decorated with tacky and tasteless hearts everywhere, with thousands of love songs playing in the background?"
I couldn't find it in me to laugh. "What if something changes and everything about the plan falls apart? You guys were right: this is too risky. Something's going to happen--what if we can't fix it?"
Archer didn't speak for a few minutes. He clamped the pins into the wig, tugging and twisting it, tying and pinning my wig down in place until finally, his hands came to rest on my shoulders. Looking up at him, I saw that he was smiling down at me, seeming unbelievably calm and confident.
"I know it's risky. I know it's dangerous. That's the thing about about Sparrows--we're incredibly aware of what the consequences are, contrary to popular opinion. But we don't care. We'll do anything to accomplish our goals, no matter how stupid or reckless it is. We would jump into a burning building if there's a slight hope that we can survive. And we survive because that's the only outcome that we allow for ourselves."
"What if we can't survive this?" I whispered.
"You're Park Sparrow. You're my little sister. You've experienced things that people live their whole lives never even dreaming of. You are strong and you are capable of surviving anything that comes your way because that's who you are. I know that your mistake with Alec has really shaken you up, but it's one mistake. It doesn't mean that every risk you take from now on is destined to end in the same way. The only thing destined for all of us is that we die. But even when we die and how we leave this world is entirely up to us."
My deep breaths were shaky and I had trouble erasing the dark thoughts that darted on the edge of my mind, the ones that kept whispering about all the things that could go wrong. But as I calmed down the racing in my chest, the paranoid and the uncertainty began to fade.
"Have a little faith, Park," Archer said, getting up and helping me to my feet. I smiled up at my brother, who returned the gesture with a crooked grin. Lazily, he saluted me and announced that he would be downstairs helping Elijah move supplies in.
Once I heard the door shut and the security system make the noise, signaling that everything was properly locked, I slid open the closet door and pulled out my formal dress, trying to think positively about the night.
It's just one dance, I thought as I changed. I can make it through one dance.
Since it was the Valentine formal, the leadership committee had spent weeks ferociously advocating for couples to attend as famous literary or historical couples or pairings. Despite Alec's insistence that Logan and I go as Alexandra Sparrow and Zachariah Cross, we had shut down the idea and opted for something less fifteenth-century.
My white lace dress flowed until the middle of my thigh, the sleeves cutting off at my elbows with a light cream ribbon cinching the fabric around my waist. It had been Minnie's idea for Logan and me to attend as Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, but since regency style clothing just wasn't our thing (Logan nearly burned the picture of the leather breeches and waistcoat that Minnie had printed out for him), we had opted for something simpler and a thousand times more modern.
Archer had braided my wig into an elegant updo, with a few red curls tickling the base of my neck. As I was finishing up my makeup, my phone began to chime relentlessly due to Alec's grievance over how long I was taking. So I quickly slipped on a pair of cream heels and stuffed my phone into a white clutch bag before grabbing my coat and heading out of the apartment, locking it up before I headed down the stairs.
"You can hear those things from miles away," Alec complained as I entered the coffee shop.
"At least they're not as annoying as your voice," I replied sweetly, joining him at the table by the pastry case. He made a scathing noise at my comment, but as he glanced towards me, he had a grin on his face.
"You look nice, Sparrow."
It would be nice if you actually meant that. "You don't look too bad yourself, Darkwood."
He was almost in all black, save for the forest green vest fashioned over his dress shirt, partly covered by the fitted black suit jacket thrown he wore. A red cloth was poking out of the pocket of his suit and looking closely enough, I could see an arrow embroidered on it.
"Mr. Darcy's here," Alec said, his eyes flickering towards the door. I turned my head and a smile spread across my lips as I saw Logan open the door for a few of our friends. He was dressed in a pair of tailored black pants with a navy blue blazer buttoned at the waist over a white dress shirt, his hair the neatest I had seen it besides that fateful day he was introduced as my bodyguard.
Following him was Zen, who was dressed even more casually than Alec, wearing only a green vest over a black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose a few leather bands wrapped around his wrist. His black jeans were tucked into dark green sneakers, and to complete his look, he had dyed the black strands on his head a fiery red, matching it all with a smile worthy of the little devil that was Pan (though honestly, I could've sworn he was Alec's date from the color scheme).
But Alec's actual date came in after Zen, Maid Marian being none other than Sophia.
Yeah, I was surprised the first time I found out too.
It was quite the funny story, actually. It started with Six checking on us before he headed out on his patrol. Naturally, his presence disturbed the peace, and that time around, it was Alec who ruffled Six' perfect feathers. The two became immersed in a battle of insults, with Six leaving in victory.
As retribution, Alec asked Sophia Misser to the Valentine formal, and she, hoping to redeem herself for the way she treated him in the past, eagerly accepted.
Needless to say, Six wasn't happy.
Sophia spent all of her classes with me gushing about her idea for the dance, excited about dressing up as Juliet Capulet. She had shown me countless of pictures of outfits and hairdos. However, when she brought the idea up to Alec, he flat out refused, launching into one of his thirty different speeches on why he hated that certain Shakespearean tragedy every time she pressed the topic.
After countless days of arguing, Sophia finally gave in.
Because whatever Diva Alec wants, Diva Alec gets.
She did retain that fairytale look she had been striving for. She wore a pale pink high-low dress, the gossamer fabric cascading around her legs like a waterfall of peonies, her heels the color of soft gold. Her sunny hair had been wrapped into a French braid, the tail draped over her shoulder, tickling the gold belt fastened around her waist.
Logan took my hand as he stopped by my seat, beaming at me as he brought my knuckles to his lips, laughing as I rolled my eyes at his actions.
"Public displays of affection aren't welcome," Alec coughed under his breath.
"I agree with Alec," Zen added. "There is a child present." He gestured grandly to himself, and I snorted at the reference of his literary character.
"Just because you don't like romance doesn't mean you have to stop other people from showing their love," Sophia muttered, her glare directed at Alec.
"I'll have you know that I was the biggest supporter of their relationship," Alec frowned, pointing to Logan and me. "Their relationship is healthy. Romeo died. I'm not going to the formal like someone who died so pathetically because he couldn't wait five minutes before poisoning himself!"
"It's supposed to be a beautiful tragedy!"
"He couldn't wait five minutes!"
"Darkwood, say one more insult about Shakespeare and those will be the last words you ever say," Elijah threatened forcefully as he walked through the front door, carrying a set of boxes in his arms. Behind him was Archer, who was loudly complaining about the free labor that Elijah was exploiting. A car pulled up to the curb outside the shop, and Archer propped the door open for the second half of our group as they entered.
Minnie's cream white dress spilled to her feet in smooth waves, complimenting her black skin. Her hair, now straightened unlike its normally curly state, fell like an ink waterfall to her chest, a golden circlet on her crown. Her eyeliner was dramatic, heavily imitating the ancient Egyptian look of Cleopatra. James, beside her, looking rather smug, wore a simple black and white suit with a Roman red cape thrown over his shoulders.
Josh and Mark both wore regular black suit and ties, their hair groomed back with dashing smiles on their faces, not fitting in with the theme of the formal. Then again, it was expected. From what I had heard from girls around the academy, Josh and Mark weren't the type to dress up, but rather dress down.
"Look at that, Zen," Archer commented, gesturing towards the group. "None of them are wearing sneakers."
"You shouldn't be one to talk," Zen frowned. "Elijah told me you wore mud-stained shoes on your first date with Iris."
Archer scowled. "I had just gotten off a mission, what was I supposed to do?"
"Buy new shoes," I said under my breath, laughing as my brother turned his glare to me.
"Elijah!" he barked, but before he could say anything else, Elijah held up his phone and began badgering us for photos, noticeably dodging Archer's reach whenever he could.
"Do we have to take pictures?" grumbled Alec as Elijah began organizing us for the photo.
"This is my cousin's first dance with this academy and it might be the only one she ever goes to. This i a night to document, considering the fact that she is going willingly and with the boy she used to throw mud at when he made her mad."
"He probably deserved it," I shrugged, smiling innocently at Logan, who feigned a shot to his heart.
On and on the photos went, until it felt as though Elijah was orchestrating his own fashion shoot in his coffee shop, nitpicking over every detail. We were too far apart, we were too close. The lighting wasn't flattering. Josh had flared his nostrils at the last second and Alec had blinked.
It wasn't until Archer snapped, "If you seriously make them take another shot because the distance between Alec and Zen was unsatisfactory, I will shoot you, Elijah, I swear to the gods, I will."
At that, Elijah turned off his phone and shuffled away from Archer's glare.
Everyone began filing out of the coffee shop. The cold February air blew in through the doorway and I pulled my black coat over my shoulders, feeling the chill cling to my bare legs. Right as I was about to head out, my brother grabbed my wrist and in a second, he slipped something into the palm of my hand and uttered, "Be careful," before stepping back.
I felt the teeth of a key dig into my flesh and I knew that Archer had given me Plan B.
James' car left first, and after everyone in Logan's vehicle had buckled up, he drove off into the night, quickly following James onto the highway. I slipped the key into my shoe.
The ride to the Paradise events center was about thirty minutes away since it dwelled on the edge of the city, far away from any suburban complaints about the noise in the night.
Sophia filled the strenuous atmosphere in the car with her endless chatter, for which I was thankful for. While I focused on the radio playing softly in the background, Logan held my hand and Sophia talked, with the occasional contribution to the conversation by Zen and Logan.
Alec kept silent the whole time, his gaze fixated out of the windows as we drove on the highway, the trees beginning to loom over us like shadow-cloaked giants. Despite Sophia's efforts, he never spoke a word and after a while, his silence began to affect us all.
My stomach was in turmoil. There was a tangle of nerves and apprehension bundling together as we got closer and closer to the events center, the discomfort tying knots as the worst case scenarios began to flash before my eyes. Logan would give my hand a strong squeeze every now and then, flashing me a reassuring smile to let me know that everything was alright.
It's just a formal. I can do this, I thought over and over until we pulled into the overflowing parking lot of the events center. It took another seven minutes for us to find a spot (you can thank Alec for the precision of those minutes--he ended his silence simply to count every second in order to annoy Logan).
It was a big relief to get out of the car, away from the boys. They were currently arguing over who could parallel park better, and I so desperately wanted to point out that if I were to break their arms, then none of them would be able to park at all, and that they should shut up before it actually happened.
But I figured it was a bad note to start the night off with threats.
Together, the five of us headed towards the long line that snaked outside the entrance. Up ahead, Minnie and the Unholy Trinity were standing a fair length up the line and they waved us over. As we stood and waited, I glanced up towards the building of the Paradise events center, the gears in my mind clicking and grinding as I pieced together possible escape routes.
It was a fairly grand, spacious white building with six floors, the last one seeming much larger than the others. Flashes of white could be seen piercing through the blackness that covered the sixth floor's windows. Beneath it was an equally dark room, though from the clarity of the glass, it was probably due to the fact that it wasn't in use. Balconies jutted from every level under the sixth floor excluding the ground level, and below the fifth floor, golden light shone out onto the night on every level, illuminating the figures already clustered out on the balconies, basking in the chill of the air. Some waved down to the line, laughing and shouting to their friends.
There weren't any hedges or bushes underneath the balconies, so jumping from them as a means to escape came with the risk of a broken leg, arm--spine. However, if I climbed from the balconies down to the next one, I would be able to use the railings as a balance for my feet. If I were to fight someone, sticking to the fifth floor would be the best option, seeing as how no one was there. Was the glass bullet-proof? Could anyone perform a clean shot to any of the floors from the trees surrounding the events center?
I hadn't even realized that we had made it to the front of the line until Logan gave me a sharp tug and suddenly we were walking through the entrance, cutting off the professor's sentence about the fifth floor. Logan was pocketing our tickets and with our friends behind us, we went straight for the elevator. Once we were all packed in, Logan pressed the button for the sixth floor.
About half a minute later, the stainless doors slid open and we entered the formal. Silver and gold twinkling lights dangled from the thick, intersecting bars of steel that were brightened by the glow of the colors. The lights looked like sweet stars dripping down from shades of pink that tinted the darkness.
There was a second floor above us, with students clinging to the edges, cheering and laughing with drinks in their hand. The pillars holding up the second floor were wrapped in golden vines, with pink and white flowers glistening in them. At the back of the room, a DJ was elevated to the mixer with speakers flanking his side, pulsing out upbeat music that the crowd swayed and danced away the evening to.
Almost immediately, our group scattered. Josh and Mark went straight into the crowd, followed quickly by Minnie and James. A group of boys pulled Zen along as they disappeared into the mass. . Alec stalked away from us, and Sophia let out a snarl of outrage. She turned around and said something to us--it was too loud to hear--and she set off after him.
Logan shouted something into my ear, but I couldn't make out a word he said. What did people do at dances? The ones I'd always been to had been the kind with expensive evening gowns, circlets on my head, sips of champagne and waltzes with the nobility.
It was nothing like this.
So I grabbed Logan's hand and pulled him onto the floor, wrapping my arms around his neck. He was grinning down at me, his arms tight around my waist, and we danced along to the hyped-up rhythm. Everyone's bodies clashed against each other, the air heavy with the scent of floral perfumes and strong cologne. It became an effort to hold onto whoever you were with. At several points, I was separated from Logan, finding myself dancing with James, then Zen, then Minnie.
When I finally found Logan again, the songs changed tempo. The fast beats slowed, and the dynamic of the room of the room dipped. About half the crowd left the floor, some heading up to the second level while others clamored around the elevators.
"Let's take a break," I said to Logan. He glanced towards the elevators before linking our fingers and leading us away form the crowd, heading up the stairs to the second level. The amount of people here had also lessened, making it easy for us to locate Zen, Josh, and Mark by the railings.
The Unholy Duo had cups in their hands and sloppy smiles on their faces as they laughed about something. Josh was slumped against Mark and the two began singing along to Christina Perri's "Be My Forever," waving their arms about as Zen regarded the two with amusement.
"Is the punch spiked?" I asked Zen.
"Clearly. Unless the boys naturally get tipsy from drinking Hawaiian punch," he snorted.
"Why aren't you guys dancing?" Josh suddenly shouted, his words slurred. He attempted to stand straight but fell against Zen's side. "It's the couple moment right now. Aren't you guys a couple?"
With a look of distaste, Zen shoved Josh onto Mark, who giggled, "They are a couple!" He sipped his drink. "An adorable couple!" Mark stumbled forward, causing Josh to nearly fall, and pinched Logan on the cheek before pushing the skin together. "Sooo cute!"
"Thank God I waited to drink my punch," Zen laughed as Logan took on a deadly expression, his glare lethal enough to sober Mark up a bit, for he retreated away from Logan with a guilty smile.
"Let's go get some fresh air," Logan suggested to me, still eyeing his friends with sharpened eyes and a frown on his lips. As we walked away, I told Zen to get the boys some water, then Logan and I descended the stairs. We wove through the mass of bodies until we reached the elevators, where the crowd from before had thinned down to a few people in front of the doors waiting their turn.
We were the last ones on the lift, and once the doors closed, Logan pressed the button for the fifth floor. A few seconds later, the doors opened to reveal a completely dark and empty floor. There were stacks of chairs stationed by the elevators and when we stepped onto the vast floor, lights flickered on above us. There were two doors by the rack of chairs, one of them with an EXIT sign over head, the other plain black and heavy-looking. I paid little attention to the latter before traveling further into the room.
I made my way over to the balcony doors and threw them open, allowing the February air to blow against my face. The lights began to dim as Logan fiddled with the switches by the elevator. The music seeped through from above, the muffled songs playing through the floor. Laughter and chatter could be heard from outside as our peers' voices drifted up towards us, filling the silence with life and liveliness.
"Too bad we'll be missing all the amazing songs," I sighed, grinning at Logan as he rolled his eyes at me. "Think of all the romanticized ideas and thoughts on love organized into verses and choruses with sappy vocabulary and overused chords we'll be skipping out on."
"Absolutely tragedy," he drawled, leaning against the glass walls while I began to recall a waltz my mother had taught me when I was much younger. I imitated the movements, moving my feet to the waltz rotation, holding my arms the way she showed me.
I looked over to Logan, my lips pursed as I tried to remember what the next movement was and noticed his stare. He looked lost in thought, his mind elsewhere, but when I stepped back, my heel making a loud noise on the floor, he snapped back to reality and smiled at me.
"You know," he began, walking over to take my hands. "The very first time I met you was at a Whitepine dance. We were four, I think, and I don't think I had ever seen someone so upset over having to wear a dress."
"That sounds like me," I grinned, trying to picture what Logan was saying. We were dancing now, using the waltz that I had been recalling. Something tugged at the back of my mind and I could almost picture the two of us, shorter and younger, dancing around with no concept of how to really dance.
"I was terrified to speak to you. My mother practically had to knock me into you to get me to ask you to dance. It was the worst decision of my life."
"If you say that I stepped on you--"
"You broke, like, what, five of my toes?"
I pushed him off of me, but Logan held onto my arms, laughing as I shook my head in denial at him. "I'm not that bad of a dancer. Maybe you're just a terrible lead," I grumbled against his chest. We were swaying back and forth now, and I began humming a song underneath my breath, ignoring his complaints when I "accidentally" stepped on his feet.
Logan leaned back after several minutes passed and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I love you," he mumbled, looking as though he wasn't aware of what he was saying.
I opened my mouth, prepared to reiterate the words when an idea flashed through my head. "I Legolas you, too."
Abruptly, he let go of me, giving me the same look he had given Mark earlier. "Say the actual word. 'Legolas' is the stupidest substitute I've ever heard."
"Alec thought it was witty," I countered. "If you're going to be rude about my preferences, we should just break up right now."
"Just say you love me, Park, it's not hard."
"I Legolas you, Logan."
"Love."
"Legolas."
"Love."
"Lego--"
"Am I interrupting something?" a voice chimed in. I jumped, turning on my feet so that I faced the elevator. Alec was leaning against the frame, grinning at us while the light of the elevator pooled into the floor.
"Alec, aren't we soul sisters? Isn't 'Legolas' a much cooler term?" I said. Alec pretended to ponder the question, propping a hand underneath his chin as he scrunched his brows together. Then, he sighed dramatically.
"I'm sorry, my platonic soulmate, but my soul sister is right. 'Legolas' is a much better term," he answered. Logan made a frustrated noise while he shook his head at me as I gave a little victory dance.
"Anyway, Park, can I talk to you for a moment?" Alec asked, gesturing his head towards the open elevator.
My good mood vanished and suspicion settled into my bones as I took in his words, but a smile appeared on my face and eagerly, I agreed. "Sure." Then I turned to Logan and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'll be back in a bit."
Logan e leaned forward and pressed his lips against my cheek. His eyes, however, had lost the cheeriness from before, looking guarded now, alert and wide-awake. His muscles had tensed as I ran a hand down his arm, seeming prepared for a fight. But Logan only smiled at Alec and gave me a push towards the elevator.
Once I got in the metal box, Alec pushed the button for the ground floor and the doors slid in front of us so that instead of Logan standing alone in the room, it was Alec and me reflected in the glass.
His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his eyes distant and hazy, the coldness in his jade eyes now softened to an open and glassy gaze. There wasn't a single sign of sweat on him and the smell of the earth clung to his suit. He was paler than usual, and as we passed the second floor, he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.
"Have you danced with Sophia?" I asked casually, though I already knew what the answer was. Earlier before, I had seen her with another boy, throwing her arms up to the music. Alec had been nowhere near her.
He didn't answer me and we hit the ground level. But before the doors could open, Alec reached forward and pressed a finger against the button that would hold the doors closed.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my uneasiness seeping into my voice.
"I'm buying time."
"Time for what?" Part of me was screaming to slam on the emergency button, to call attention, but I waited and held my breath as Alec lifted his head and looked to me, an expression on his features that I couldn't decipher.
"I'm sorry."
"Alec," I whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of the truth. I reached out to grab his hand but he caught my wrist before I could do so, and a twisted grin pulled up the corners of his lips.
"I'm sorry that I'm not the guy you think I am," he answered coolly before dropping both his hands. The elevator doors slid open and he walked away. For a moment, I stood there, dazed at his words, until it hit me that I had truly lost Alec once and for all.
I staggered out of the elevator, my eyes focused on the entrance doors. My legs felt like jelly, and there was something rushing in my veins. I couldn't tell if it was fear or anger, or a treacherous combination of both. I had to find him. Why did he suddenly reveal himself to me?
Then my blood turned to ice as I realized that something was going to happen tonight.
My feet took me charging towards the front doors, but before I could make it through, someone grabbed my wrist and whirled me around. Logan faced me, lips parted and eyes keen as he searched my face. "Did he do anything to you?" he asked, his voice soft, his language Cimerian.
"How'd you get down here so fast?" I asked, surprising myself as I heard my own voice shake.
"Stairs," he replied. "What happened? You look--"
"I have to go after him. Something's wrong, Logan. He knows."
At those words, Logan straightened and his jaw clenched as he took a swift glance around the room. His hand came to rest on my arm and drew me closer to him, but I wrestled against his hold and took a step back.
"I need to stop him," I said, turning towards the door. However, Logan held onto me and rooted me to the spot, forcing me to look up at him when he gripped my chin.
"I'll bring him to you then," he offered. "I can't allow you to put yourself in a situation where you'll be at any risk."
"You're not my bodyguard, Logan."
"No, I'm not," he answered smoothly. "But I am your boyfriend, an agent of XYZ, as well as a member of the twelve noble clans of Cimeria. The safety of my girlfriend and the princess of Cimeria must come first," Logan finalized, a resolute look in his eyes. "I'll find him. Give me a few minutes, okay? Go find Zen or Minnie and call your brother. I'll get XYZ. Darkwood has no one to help him in Paradise. He won't get far."
I tried to protest but Logan gave a sharp shake of his head before walking out of the building, almost immediately disappearing from my sight. A noise of vexation left my lips, and I stepped forward.
The key Archer had given me pressed into the bottom of my foot.
An empty level. The professor's warning against the fifth floor. The black door by the elevators. As I headed back towards the lift, smiling at those who waved to me, I wondered my brother's Plan B possibly was.
I was about to step onto the elevator when I saw Minnie and Zen in front of me, their laughter dying as they took in my expression.
"What's going on?" Minnie asked as I entered.
"Alec knows," I answered. "He's up to something, and Logan's gone after him."
Zen pulled out a phone and began dialing a number. Minnie placed a hand on my shoulder just as the doors opened and we stepped off.
"How do you know for sure?" she asked while I took off a heel and dumped the key onto my palm.
"He wouldn't let us know if he wasn't sure he could get away," I explained, inserting the key into the lock. "He's a Darkwood, and if there's anything you learn from our history, it's that their clan has the knack of always looking out for themselves. Unless he was absolutely certain that he could make a clean cut, he wouldn't have dropped the act."
My hand fumbled for the light switch, and when a dusty yellow light flooded the room, I saw just exactly what Plan B was.
The shelves had small rows of guns and knives lying neatly on top of white towels. Bullets and arrows were stashed next to the box of cleaning supplies, crossbows hung besides the mops and brooms, and three metal rods were leaning tall besides a vacuum.
Clearly Plan B required half the weapon stash Elijah had in his basement.
"How much did it take for your brother to get this floor privatized?" Minnie laughed as she walked in, her hands trailing the shelves. She then tossed Zen and me stacks of clothing, which I realized came straight from my own closet. There was one last stack of clothes and I knew, with a queasy feeling, that those had been meant for Logan.
"Your brother's not picking up," Zen said as he took a corner and threw his vest to the floor. Minnie and I also took our own corners and I shimmied out of the dress, pulling on the tight jeans, thermal, and jacket. In the process, I had pulled off my wig, the pins and braid too binding for comfort. As I laced up my brown boots, Minnie was pushing a switchblade into the side of her shoes while Zen slipped a gun into the waistband of his jeans.
I was emptying out the contents of my clutch bag, pocketing my phone and credit cards when suddenly, Zen's phone rang loudly. He seized the device and answered, "Archer, we believe--"
Zen stopped speaking and his eyes widened, his mouth falling open before he turned to me. "Logan isn't picking up," he told us. "And they haven't come across a single agent ever since they left the house to help him."
I stuffed my ID into my shoe before dashing out of the room, Minnie and Zen right on my heels. Zen took the key from me to lock up the room then joined us as we yanked open the door to the stairs and sprinted down the steps.
Several people cried out in alarm when we crashed through the door at the bottom level, but we ignored the stares our trio got. Pushing aside the front entrance doors. we fell out into the cold night, Logan's name falling off my tongue loud and clear.
The further we got from the events center, the quieter it became, until no laughter or conversation was heard. The only source of noise was our feet against the pavement of the parking lot and the deadened beat of music off in the distance.
Alec's name joined my calls, but no one replied. Not Logan, not Alec, not even an agent. "No one's here," I stated in disbelief.
"How do you make several dozen agents disappear without causing attention?" Zen asked, peering off towards the forest.
"Archer said there would be six agents posted north, east, west, and south," I said, spinning in the directions as I said them aloud. "One of those groups should have seen Alec. One of them should've helped Logan."
"Park," Minnie spoke up, kneeling on the street. In her hands was a key chain containing a set of keys and a bundle of charms--charms I had bought for Logan.
"Guys," Zen hissed, pointing to an object so well-concealed in the shadows that I couldn't quite make out what it was. Ignoring precautions, we raced towards it, and as we came closer, I realized that it was a black van under a broken street lamp. It was parked horribly--the front wheels had set its course during the forest but the back wheels were stuck on the pavement, and one of the tires was fully deflated.
A glint of metal caught my eye and I bent over to pick a key by the front tire. While Zen moved to the other side of the van and Minnie knelt by the deflated tire, her hand passing over the rubber, I strode over to the back and unlocked the doors. A gasp fell from my lips.
A pile of agents were stuffed inside, their hands and feet bound by either handcuffs or rope. Some were siting upright, some were lying on their backs or stomachs with others stacked on top of them. Minnie came over and repeated the same noise I had made while I inched forward and pressed a finger to one agent's neck. A heartbeat pulsed underneath my touch and I sighed in relief.
"Twenty-four agents," Minnie said, her eyes narrowing as they scanned the van. "I don't see Logan."
"I think we're supposed to be playing a game," Zen called out from the side. Minnie and I joined him and Zen switched on the flashlight on his phone, shining the brightness onto the surface of the vehicle.
"1547 Crescent Boulevard," I said, reading the words gratified in white. Following it was a zip code, but that was the end of the message. The jingle of Logan's keys could be heard as Minnie held them up, waiting for me as she arched a brow at us.
"Zen, call Archer. Let him know what we found," I said while nodding to Minnie. We set off back towards the parking lot, hurrying through the vehicles until we came to a stop by Logan's car. Minnie tossed me the keys and I unlocked the doors before sliding into the driver's seat. As I started up the car and reared out of the parking lot, Zen began conveying the events to Archer.
Ten minutes later, I saw a sign posted in front of a black gate reading 'Crescent Boulevard.' I turned and stopped by the security box, punching in the numbers we had been given. The gates creaked open as I pressed the final number, and I tapped the gas pedal.
The next black van was parked under another dysfunctional street lamp. There was no white message sprayed onto the surface, but there was another address scribbled in black on the driver's window with a key taped underneath it.
"It's a scavenger hunt," Minnie scoffed as I pulled off the key and handed it to her. "There's going to be a van at every address they give us. Congratulation, Park, your enemies are fucking psychopaths."
To prove her hypothesis, she unlocked the doors of the van and drew them open, revealing another team of agents (though smaller than the one at the formal) confined to the van. Their pulses, thankfully, were still strong.
"Though I didn't expect Darkwood to have this up his sleeve," Minnie said. "I didn't think he had the balls or the wits for this."
"Archer says to follow the next address," Zen announced, pocketing his phone. "He and Elijah are following the vans too. They haven't met a single agent on duty."
Alec has Logan, I thought, digging my fingers into my palms. If I didn't find them soon, then my last words to Logan would have been the last thing I'd ever say to him, and a mixture of terror and fury boiled in my veins.
After Zen took a picture of the message, we scurried back into Logan's car and raced towards the city. Archer began calling us to let us know the vans that he and Elijah had located. Having done the math, he estimated that there would be thirty vans to track down. We had only eliminated four.
On and on the hunt went. Whoever was the closest to the next address would head there first, and the process would repeat as we tracked down more vans. No matter which one we searched, Logan wasn't in any of them, and I knew that Alec had escaped town. There was no way he would've stayed. There was more to this game than a distraction, though. It was the final word from Alec Darkwood, and it bore an important message.
Finally, Archer called to let us know that the last van had been found. When Zen hung up the call, I sped up and broke about five different speed limits as we headed towards my brother. They were near the edge of town, Elijah's car parked by a bus stop. In front of his vehicle was the final black van and I screeched to a stop right by a phone booth. We stumbled out of the car and ran towards my brother and cousin.
"Is Logan..." Zen began, but Elijah shook his head.
"What was the point of this?" Minnie snarled, kicking one of the doors. "Was this just to get us off his tail?"
"No," Archer answered, his finger pressed to the neck of an agent. "You don't just knock out this many agents to get people distracted. This is sending a message. This is telling us of their strengths, their capability to fight against us."
"You know who I haven't seen in these vans?" Elijah said, his voice a guttural sound. "Six."
As everyone conversed about our next step, my eye was caught by the phone booth by the bus stop. The door was pushed open and something bright green was stuck to the side, the color a stark contrast against the fluorescent lighting.
"Does anyone have change?" I asked. Everyone stared at me, so I tilted my head towards the phone booth. "I need to make a call."
Though confused, Elijah stepped forward and fished out a small handful of change for me. Archer followed with another handful. I cupped the change in my hands and walked on over to the phone booth, where I began inserting the coins into the slot. Once all the coins were gone, I dialed the number on the bright green note and waited, my breath held in tense apprehension.
The call picked up within seconds.
"Took you long enough," Alec mused, his tone nonchalant, as though he was truly at peace at his betrayal. "I was beginning to think that my little game was too much for your mind to handle."
"Where are you?" I asked with an equally dispassionate voice.
"Who knows? Maybe I'm a city over. Maybe I'm on a plane to Rio. It's for me to know and you to find out," he answered. I squeezed my eyes shut, recalling our first encounter. I should've never offered my hand to him on that boat. I should've never been so stupid to trust him.
"Now, listen very carefully or someone's going to be sent back home in a casket," Alec said, clearing his throat.
"Skip the intimidating talk and just tell me what you have in store for me. I've had enough of your acting."
"Fine, fine," he sighed. "You have four days to figure out where we are. If you're not where I am in four days, alone, with the crown of Cimeria, I'm going to send Logan back in pieces so that you can put him back together for his funeral."
"You think I'm going to hand over the crown of my royal family because of that bluff?" I half-laughed. There were footsteps behind me, and in the reflection of the phone booth, I could see everyone gathered at the door.
"Oh, Sparrow," he sang. "It's not a bluff, but you can believe whatever you want. It'll be you looking at his body in the morgue. Well, parts of his body, if I'm to be technical. And every time I call you and you refuse to meet our demands, then I'll be sending more people back to you."
"My family would never--"
"Don't be hasty, Sparrow. You're honorable folks. Chivalrous, loyal--the heroes of their story. I know you too well. I know all of you. How many lives will you sacrifice before you cave? I know who you care about, and I know that you're in pain whenever someone--anyone--gets hurt. I know how much your body collapses with guilt when you can't protect your friends. And how will your people feel, knowing that their royal family is a selfish one? That they can't give up power and money over the lives of their citizens? Sooner or later, Sparrow, you'll surrender. The body count will be entirely up to you."
An arrogance reverberated in his words, a mighty confidence conveying his belief in his promise. My fingers curled tightly around the phone, my knuckles stark white as a fearsome storm brewed beneath my skin.
"Do you remember when I told you about what happened to Archer?" I began, making damn sure that my voice was clear and unwavering. No longer would I show fear and doubt towards Darkwood. He had made his choice. Now he was going to find out just how much he would regret it.
"Yes," he answered, curiosity evident in his tone.
"You know that at thirteen years of age, my brother shot a man and almost killed him. I told you that the Court stripped away his title. You know that I can't ever repeat his actions or else I could possibly lose my right to the throne. But do you know what I just realized, Darkwood?"
He didn't respond.
"I just realized that I no longer care. I'm done being careful. So long as I make it certain that you and whoever it is that you work for will never touch the throne, I don't care what the fate of my title is. I'm coming for you, Darkwood, and I will make sure that I'm the one that puts a bullet through your heart, the royal crown be damned."
And when Darkwood answered, I could hear his smile in his voice, the dare in his words.
"It's a date," he said. "I'll see you by the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."
* * *
hello lovelies--i'm sorry about the late update. i just got back into school and i'm adjusting to my senior life (can you believe that i've spent so many years on this site, like god damn, knee, get an actual life)
hopefully, i'll be able to crush out the chapters before the end of august so I can enter this in the watty awards 2k15. wish me luck, awesome nerds.
ciao for now -- knee