by Nikki Rae
The woman made no indication she knew to whom she was speaking, and I didn’t feel the need to inform her. We would become well acquainted soon enough.
“Yes,” I whispered, glancing around the still neighborhood.
“I can be there in forty-five minutes. If you need someone sooner—”
“No,” I choked out. “That’s fine.”
I didn’t need the added stress of her sending another person I didn’t know. At least I’d seen this woman’s face.
“Okay,” she said. “Sit tight.”
The line went dead before I could respond, and I stared at it, convinced some mistake had been made. This was too easy. No one chasing me; no one but this stranger coming to my rescue. I tore up the card as I waited, unable to control my hands and needing something to do with them. As the sun began to lighten the sky, I was more exposed. Anyone passing a window in their home could see me. Even though the windows were tinted, I couldn’t shake the feeling my every move was being watched. That it would all end any minute.
I hadn’t felt that way since I’d run from Master Jäger.
His home in America wasn’t far from the Compound, and we weren’t going to stay there more than a few weeks while I “adjusted”. This was all negotiated with me in the room, the adults making me think I was safe with this man, that I would be off to live the life of a fairytale.
It was the day after he’d burned my clothes that the idea of abandoning the Order popped into my head. Never before had I entertained a different type of existence, and for all I knew, it was far more dangerous outside the Wolf’s cage.
But I was willing to see for myself more than I was willing to be tamed by such a beast.
Stumbling through the dark streets at night was preferable to any other treatment I’d experienced, and the searing burns between my thighs kept me awake as I sprinted with Jäger’s long coat clutched to my chest. I was lucky he trusted the word of the Grimm Order enough not to put a tracker around my wrist or under my skin. He wouldn’t be able to find me, yet I was constantly waiting for him or someone else to drag me back into the abyss where no one would ever know this happened.
Then I passed out, waking where a younger version of Odette had dressed my wounds.
“You’re safe here,” she’d told me. And although I barely knew this person, for the first time in my life, I wanted to believe it. The more informed about the Mainworld—true reality—I was, the more I was armed to fight. In a way, this had always been the way things were supposed to be. Fated.
I hadn’t been at the Safehouse long before it was bombed, raided, and pilfered by the Order. Those I had come to know as caretakers, peers, and teachers were ripped from each other and taken back to their Owners or Compounds. Knowing I was so close to where I’d come from was anything but comforting.
At the age of nine, my eyes had been opened. If I wanted to survive now, I needed to close them again.
Often, I felt as though I was running towards something, yet stuck in the same place. This decision would move me forward, and if the Rapunzel Project was willing to work with me, it would end it all. The Order would come tumbling down.
After the twenty-minute mark, the phone vibrated in my lap with a number I didn’t recognize. I could only think it was Santos trying to get in touch with me, trying to find where I was, so I picked up on the second ring.
“Fawn.” His voice might as well have been a splinter shooting through my chest. “Where are you, mon coeur?”
I preferred him angry, demanding an explanation. The way his words seemed too close together told me he was still somewhat out of it, fighting off the Cerberus still in his system.
“You’re in no condition to leave and the car is gone anyway,” I managed to say evenly. “Don’t follow me this time.”
“I beg of you,” he said on a breath, “don’t make me.”
I’d expected nothing less from the man who Owned my freedom, and with nothing left to say, I hung up. Deciding to leave the device in the glovebox, I took out the battery the way Marius had shown me so it couldn’t be traced.
The action itself made tears well in my eyes as if I’d cut myself on something sharp.
I pulled my legs up to my chest, perched behind the wheel in my Owner’s jacket and his bag on the passenger’s seat as I stared out at the turn where Santos’ car would appear. Though I was prepared for it, I still jumped when I spotted headlights, not emerging until the burgundy sedan parked in front of the next house. A figure climbed out, and I recognized the woman’s dark curly hair.
I allowed myself one last deep breath before I slung my supplies over my shoulder and opened the door. She didn’t startle when she heard the soft click as I exited, but she appeared surprised to see me of all people.
With trembling hands, I fumbled in the front pouch of the duffel bag for the roll of rubber-banded bills I’d taken from my Owner as well. Before I could stop myself, I was shoving it all into her hands, trying to make her take it.
“Please,” I said, sounding more desperate than I liked. “I will go with you if Master Lyon and House Chimera aren’t hurt.”
Santos gave me a warm smile, holding the money out to me. “This isn’t necessary,” she said, albeit a bit confused. “I’m here to help.”
I replaced it in my bag, unconvinced. Master Lyon told me this was how the Mainworld worked, and this woman was part of it. The fact that she wouldn’t accept payment for her services made me somewhat more comfortable, but everything came with a price.
She didn’t touch me, but her arm came around my back to guide me towards her car. The agent didn’t say anything else until then.
“What would you like me to call you?” she started with, and whether it was motivated by an ulterior motive or not, I appreciated the extra effort when it came to how it was worded. It told me she had experience with people like me; she knew most of us didn’t have real names, even after we were out of the Order.
I turned in my seat to face her, and Santos watched me with expectant eyes. I didn’t quite trust this woman or her organization, but other than surrendering to House Wolf alone, I had little options. They had intelligence and resources that could better prepare me for our escape, no matter what they wanted from me in return.
“Please, call me Doe,” I answered, not knowing whether I was really that girl anymore.
Nineteen
It was difficult not to think of long afternoons reading in the study at home as Santos slid a cup of mint tea across the table. The aroma transported me to some amorphous place in my mind where the four members of Chimera House existed without axes hanging over their heads. Elliot and I were in the greenhouse, Marius was down the hall, and Lady Lyon was busy in the real world. Together we ate our meals, and we were a family. I would need to shut myself off from these daydreams, but for now, there was still time.
Agent Santos didn’t ask why I’d called her. She didn’t rub my face in the fact that I needed her help. Genuinely, she seemed like she wanted to do the right thing as much as I did, and that made her understand how drastic our measures had become. That it was necessary to finish it.
She had stopped at an apartment over an hour away, and it took me longer than it should have to realize this was where she lived. Her place was on the third floor, and we took the stairs there. It was little more than one room with a kitchen in the far corner framed by a narrow doorway. Her table sat in the middle of the living room, which was a few feet from the bed. The bathroom door was open, revealing a modest standing shower and toilet. There was no area hidden from view, and I wondered if she had done this on purpose to make me more comfortable.
“No one else is here,” she’s assured me as I lingered by the door. I wasn’t certain what made me feel so trapped, but once I’d stepped further inside, I figured out it was because there were no windows save for one above the kitchen sink. The curtains had been parted as if to let in the sunrise, and the tiny room was inviting the more I settled into her well-worn
couch.
She kept her home clean, no clutter of any kind except for shelves of neatly labeled black binders with coded letters and numbers on their spines. When she asked me if I wanted coffee, I was doubtful she had anything else, but she brought me what I’d requested and it helped settle my stomach.
“So it’s agreed,” she said, sipping her drink. “You will work with us to extract the other members of your House, and we will use our influence to ensure none of you are charged with any crime.”
I narrowed my eyes in her direction. We’d spent most of the day negotiating terms, yet said all at once, it seemed unrealistic. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I still have a few more questions.”
I’d stalled long enough; I needed to know all I could.
Agent Santos didn’t become defensive or try to steer around the topic. “Ask away.”
“What went wrong with Odette the first time?”
She placed her mug on a marble coaster. “The head of that case no longer works for our organization.”
Throughout our entire conversation, she’d been friendly and open, but here, she didn’t elaborate.
“We are a private segment of the FBI,” she went on. “There are five of us, and we are tasked with keeping things like this from the public. We are here to put an end to human trafficking and raise awareness to the masses, and internally we use whatever method is most effective—whether it’s technically legal or not.”
For the first time since we’d sat down, she appeared rehearsed. She was part of a secret society of her own, with a set of rules with which I wasn’t familiar. Therefore, she needed to be mindful of exactly how much of her hand she showed.
“To help slaves?” I asked, putting things bluntly—I wouldn’t soften what this was really about.
Her mouth twisted at the word. “Yes.”
“You don’t incarcerate them?”
Santos tried to reassure me with a smile. “We avoid that if it’s possible,” she started with. “If things are kept private and don’t leave our organization, that isn’t necessary, as no others within the government would know.”
I stared back at her blankly, and she seemed to realize I didn’t quite comprehend.
“Certain entities sometimes intervene, but we do try our best to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She’d chosen to sit across from me, at the same level. “No other cult’s practices are more closely watched than the Grimm Order. There are many Members who control what is said and done in the media, and people like you have been silenced for too long.” She was serious, the face of a warrior on horseback. “Fabian crossed the line when he made national news, and now even his supporters—the ones who haven’t disappeared or defected from House Wolf—want him taken out.”
This wasn’t as shocking to me as she had probably presumed. The Order was nothing if not ruthless, and if their strength or the beliefs behind their practices were brought into question, even the highest title couldn’t protect them.
“It’s a small step,” she admitted with a tiny shrug, “but we believe it’s necessary to expose them for who they really are. It’s only then we can begin to help everyone they’ve hurt.” Holding up a finger, she made her way to the shelf, where she selected a manila envelope and handed it to me. “That includes you.”
Opening it, I skimmed the pages, unsure what they meant until I read the bottom line, which indicated all medical, mental health, and living expenses would be paid as well as a generous compensation for my time. My suffering. It was true what Master Lyon had said: people here were ruled by money. We had more than most, so it was harder to buy our loyalty.
“And House Chimera?” I asked, closing the folder and placing it on the coffee table where I’d left my tea.
She nodded once, but from my skeptical expression, she knew I needed more. “May I ask you a question, Doe?”
To me, this woman was a stranger, but she tried to make me feel like I could confide in her. I didn’t know if it was safe to do so, but no one had asked my opinion on any subject in so long that I welcomed the opportunity.
“Yes.”
“Why are you still with House Chimera?” she asked, tiptoeing around what she really meant. “They still uphold some of the Order’s doctrines, do they not?”
I swallowed. “Doctrines?”
“Sorry,” she said, thinking she’d offended me. “I assumed, since you refer to them as your House, and Elliot Lyon as ‘Master Lyon’.” Although she didn’t outwardly show it, her eyes gave her away; she wanted to know out of pure curiosity—it had nothing to do with this case. “I’m used to ex-Members cutting ties with their old lives, that’s all.”
I folded my hands. “It would take too long to explain,” I settled on, “but all three of them are very important to me.”
My voice quivered and she pulled out a drawer in her coffee table and produced a box of tissues, which she placed nearby.
“I’m not here to judge you,” she reassured me when I didn’t accept her offering.
I sat back to indicate I didn’t need the tissues, deciding it was time to change the subject. “How can you promise we won’t get hurt? That we’ll be able to get out?”
This was the most important issue, not why or how I loved people who, to her, had used me for their own advancement within the Order or the Chaos.
Taking my hint, she repositioned the tissues to the end table, out of sight. “It isn’t going to be easy,” she said, glancing at the paperwork I’d abandoned. The fee I would be paid for giving up my freedom. “But essentially, we have people in place—three to be exact—who have had close contact with Gregor and his circle. We have surveillance at every corner of his home, and we are collecting evidence as we speak.”
For the second time, I played dumb. “Evidence?”
She crossed her legs, fingers interlaced over the knee. “Mrs. Lyon and Mr. Bonhomme have been at his new estate for less than a week,” she started with. “Fabian isn’t discreet—as I’m sure you know firsthand. However, he hasn’t admitted to enough of his previous offenses. We need you to make him confess.”
I had known this was my purpose in all this—whether I went on my own or with the Rapunzel Project, I would be a slave again. These people wanted me to gain this man’s trust so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. To trick him into telling me all his secrets.
This was why Master Lyon hadn’t wanted me to go; I was too good at this particular skill, and there were very few I hadn’t fooled.
Two of them were already with the Wolf, at his mercy. I imagined them drugged, unable to prevent any of it while I negotiated our very lives.
“You want me to incriminate him then.”
Santos’ expression hardened with resolve. “Incriminate, yes,” she said, sipping her coffee. “And then euthanize.”
This woman had been so cordial, but now I saw a vicious gleam in her eye she must have only reserved for specific occasions. “Those are the orders.”
So members of the Mainworld spoke in code as well; at least she was aware I knew the rules to this game. “You want me to kill him.”
I now understood the purpose of my compensation: they believed this was a lot to ask of a person, and in turn, they would reward me—pay any expense to fix whatever the Wolf broke and then some.
Her mouth contorted again, but I got the impression it was because she was holding back a smile. “Yes, Doe.” She carefully leaned forward, but not too close as to alarm me. “We have been tracking your movements for some time. We know what really happened to Master Jäger, Master Capelle, Master Durand—” Santos caught herself, not wanting to come off like she was threatening me. “You are capable of such a task. And,” she added, “completing it ensures your immunity in any criminal case brought against you—that’s how the Rapunzel project works for people in your position.”
“Eye for an eye.”
She shrugged. “More like an eye for a rotting limb.”
I would have Gregor all to myself, and I would
be the one to break him open. See his blood on my hands. His life for all of ours; penance for every sin we’d committed.
I leaned further away, resting against the couch. “Master Lyon knows I’m gone.” It came out much quieter than I’d wanted. “He will try to come after me.”
“We have no doubt.” As before, she seemed to know how far he’d gone where I was concerned. “We will keep him occupied as long as we can.”
I didn’t know what that entailed, nor was I certain of how I should feel about it. He would still find a way to me, no matter what obstacles stood in his path.
“All right then,” I conceded. “But I’m going to need your help.”
She nodded, scooping up the papers on the table and giving me a pen. “That’s what we’re here for.”
Many times, my fate had rested within a moment much like this one. Sold, transferred, free. They were nothing but words. Papers like these, they were almost overtly symbolic. Documents burned, people died; everything was temporary.
The only difference was that this time, it was my choice. It was my name on the line at the bottom of the page. Not a Suitor, or Vulture, or Compound. I’d make this decision over again for the rest of my life if it meant my family could be whole. Whether this woman and her group wanted to help or harm us, I knew we would survive that, too. We could withstand anything.
Our House all wanted the same thing: each other. As tangled as we were, we couldn’t change that. The goal never moved or shifted. We would be safe. We would be free, bound only to the powerful beast that was Chimera.
And I would be the one to burn Wolf’s House down.
Twenty
Outside, the sun shone across the verdant rolling hills of the countryside as we traveled south. I’d only been in America a few weeks, but being back in Europe made me aware of how much I’d missed its history, the buildings that had stood for centuries and witnessed each victory and tragedy. Here, things weren’t knocked down simply because they were reminders of the past. It was the opposite: they had withstood it all, and thus had rightly earned their place amongst the progress.