Page 64 of Chasing the Night
Chapter Twenty-One
The Preparation
Chalice
I awoke with an ache in my neck that even the Fated Few couldn’t have inspired. Half the night had been spent having nightmares of Atticus tossing me into a lake of acid, the other half I spent practically suffocating between Ender and the fucking sofa.
I was certain that Atticus would find a hatchet or an axe and turn the door to firewood, but it never happened. Daylight turned to noon and still there was no sign of him or anyone else.
“What do we do?” I whispered, like someone might hear us conspiring over the sound of people coming and going on the street below.
“We can’t stay here all day. Atticus is all about pretenses anyhow. Maybe he won’t say anything until he can catch us alone?” Ender mused, running a hand through his hair. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”
He’d asked me that a hundred times throughout the night and the past few hours. I nodded as I had all the other times and nibbled on my lip as I considered what he said.
“Come on,” he insisted, making the choice for me. He stood up and wiggled his fingers in an offer to help me do the same. I allowed but hesitated a moment before following him out the door.
We moved in silence through the house, him dropping my hand the moment we were at the bottom of the staircase. We rounded the corner and noise trickled from the kitchen. His hand shot out like a mote and caught me in the gut.
“If they ask… you will say that I forced you to suck the Nirvana Root. That I tricked you,” he quickly rambled. I shook my head and he turned on me, just as he had the Dock Master, and my heart jumped into my throat. “You will tell them you were drugged, Chalice, do you understand?”
I shoved him away from me and staggered backward a few paces.
“No,” I firmly told him, hurrying to place some distance between us. He didn’t run after me, and I was glad for it; I didn’t want him to see the hurt and confusion that had been weighing on me. He really expected me to watch him suffer while I pleaded innocence? If I did that, I wasn’t worth the love he professed to have held for me.
I slowly made my way to the jail, moving through the crowd with my head down and my vision blurred. Over the months, I’d grown somewhat used to the whispers that escorted me through the public areas. Today in my prickled state, I heard each one of them, which only brought painful memories of my first day with Reverie. Was this what things had felt like for her? Things had closed in and she was too sweet to thrive in such conditions, I was sure of it.
I claimed a rugged breath of the waterside air and threw the door to the jail open. Instead of Messiah sitting at the desk, Isabella sat with her legs folded properly and a wine glass in her gloved hand.
“Isabella…” I whispered on a gasp. I struggled to keep the shock from reaching my face, so I ended up rambling. “Where… um, where’s Messiah?”
“With his intended, I would imagine,” she purred, sitting up all the straighter. Diamonds glittered in her hair when she tipped her head, forcing one to give her a second glance.
“Is that meant to hurt me? It’s almost as desperate as that bid for attention you’ve placed on your head.” The venom leapt from me, without thought or care. I wouldn’t be Reverie, nor would I let her death go without notice. I called them out for her. “I’ll not be his fucking boon, and I can play the same games as you. I can play them better.”
It was a ludicrous assertion, but I pictured my mother and her outlawry when I said it. I held my head high and stared down at her with enough confidence that it made her shut up and afford me a second sizing.
Be that woman. Don’t pretend. Don’t try. Be. Her.
The same conscience that roared so loudly when I tried to disguise myself or pull one over back in my herb peddling days screamed and insisted. I wanted to run, but instead, I imagined my spine to be as stiff and straight as steel. I pictured my eyes the way Messiah had described them. She would be forced to see me as he did, if I had anything to say about it.
She shifted and sat her wine aside. Her feet were shifting toward the door, and I knew she would stand before she did. She was rattled. I stepped with confidence, allowing the spiked slippers to clip crisply against the floor.
“Truly… that was uncalled for.” She flinched and tried to bring her hand to her throat. Just as Messiah had said, some mediocre criminals paint their voice into a more vulnerable tone when they wish to instill such a belief in a victim. I was through being her victim. I’d never be anyone’s victim, even if it meant I had to be as cold and ruthless as her. Even as I told myself that, I knew it wasn’t true.
“Stop it, Isabella. You’re insulting both of us. We’re both mature women. Adults. These childish games are beneath us,” I hissed.
“I do not play games, Chalice. I come out of love for you.” Isabella sighed and averted her eyes in an attempt to play the submissive. “Please do not take your hurt out on me. It is Atticus. He is the one who arranged all of this. I had no say in Messiah’s matter and well, with yours I only knew once it was all set.”
“My what?” I laughed, she truly was good, trying to distract me. Any moment the sting of a blow would come. I listened to the waves to see how long it took her.
“Your contract, dear.”
I laughed, but the flicker of a smile at the edge of her lips told me it was true. My head was starting to hurt. Was she with me or against me? Could I trust her… No!
“Who?” I shook my head and stared at her long and hard. “Who would have me after…”
“Yes, well. You and Ender will pay for your thievery, even my Lisette didn’t escape that comeuppance,” Isabella said with a hefty dose of poorly imitated compassion.