by Jack Parker
He winced.
Aaron had recorded them on his mobile for blackmail.
Those long hours of learning how to dance would haunt his nightmares forever.
Melan shuffled her feet.
She looked so hot when she did that.
"There's nothing else really to do."
Jack bit his lip, then considered. It would probably be the closest that he could get to her without seeming too forward, so what was he complaining about? He had to make sure that he looked a bit reluctant, though, because he had already said that he didn't want to.
"Fine, then. But do you know how to?"
She fingered some of her curls, then tilted her head to the side. "We're here to have fun, right?"
And that meant no.
It would work as long as they moved along to the music. He cast his gaze over the many couples. It didn't look too hard and he could remember some of the steps that he had learnt as a boy. They would be able to manage.
He led her onto the main floor, then wrapped his arm around her waist along the curve of her hip. His hand fit around her curves perfectly. She was just so perfect. She wrapped her arm around his neck. He could smell her perfume. It was soft, intoxicating.
This was going to be fun.
They began to dance, their legs sweeping across the floor as a piano played in the distance, its soft music dancing through their ears. He twirled her, her curls dancing with the wind. She was laughing, her dimples creasing.
He pulled her towards him, their foreheads touching. He twirled her again, then swept her to the side. Her heels clicked against the floor. He wondered how she was able to dance so well with them on.
The amber light dimmed for a few moments, causing the room to be shadowed, the only light an ethereal white glow cast from the chandeliers. The white light glistened, rippled, over her hair.
Everything looked faint, dreamlike.
He took the moment to pull her towards him again, his voice dropping. "Having fun?"
She tilted her head to the side. Half of her face was shadowed, the white light trickling over her features. "That's what we're here for."
His grip around her waist tightened as he pulled her closer, causing their foreheads to touch. He could feel her breath on his skin. She was blushing, he noticed. He rubbed his forehead against hers and brushed their noses together, tickling her cheeks and causing the red to intensify.
He brushed one of her curls behind her ear, then brought his lips closer to hers, so that they were only a few inches away. "Having fun yet?" he whispered.
Light crisscrossed over the laminated flooring as the music continued to play in the distance.
Her grip around his neck tightened. She tip toed slightly. "That's what we're here for," she whispered.
He bent down, their lips almost touching.
The lights flickered back on.
"Harlton!"
His head snapped up; her grip loosened.
Oh, no.
"Harlton, what a pleasant surprise."
Melan stepped back. Jack shuffled his feet. Jessica regarded them coolly. He felt like a schoolboy being caught doing something very naughty.
"I'm so glad I found you. And this must be your date." She arched an eyebrow and regarded Melan placidly.
Melan glared.
Jessica smirked, then tilted her head to the side causing a curtain of her perfect, layered blonde hair to glint beneath the amber light. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
She regarded them for a moment, as if daring them to argue. Melan folded her arms and continued to glare.
"What do you want?" she bit.
Jessica's gaze flickered towards her for a moment, cold, cool, before she regarded Jack again. "How are you, Harlton?"
He shuffled his feet. "I'm cool."
Melan stepped forward and took his arm, possessively.
Jessica smiled acerbically. "Have you met Kayden Porter yet?"
He blinked. He had forgotten about him. "No."
"As a Sector head, it's your duty to meet him. Shall we introduce you, now."
It wasn't a question, it was an order. He could hear it in her tone of voice.
He nodded slowly.
She regarded Melan brusquely. "You can bring her along, if you must."
He could feel Melan's grip on his arm tighten. He wasn't altogether sure whether she was holding it to keep him back, or whether she was holding it to keep herself back. He was inclined to believe the latter.
He didn't know what to say. He wanted to stick up for her, for Melan. He felt guilty letting Jessica take digs at her. But there wasn't anything that he could really say.
Jessica began to walk away into one of the further corners of the room. Many tables were spread out, all made from a rich, dark chocolate wood which he didn't know the name of. Soft, linen table cloths adorned their surfaces and within the center of each table was a glass vase holding a single, white rose.
They continued to follow her, then stopped as she did. She stopped before a table; Jack couldn't see past her.
"Harlton, meet Kayden Porter."
She stepped back, allowing Jack to see the figure sat upon one of the many carved chairs. He blinked in surprise.
He was a Cadlian.
His skin was a rich, Cadlian tan, his hair a stark black containing one or two white streaks. He had a square face and a heavy jaw; he was well built, but not overly so. He looked to be in his mid-forties.
But it wasn't only the knowledge that he was a Cadlian that surprised Jack; he was sure there was something else. He knew he had seen him somewhere before, but he wasn't quite sure where.
Kayden regarded him coolly. Jessica sat down in the seat beside him.
"Mr. Porter, this is Jack Harlton, our new head of Sector Four."
"Pleasure to meet you, Jack."
Jack shuffled his feet. "The pleasure is all mine, Sir."
Kayden continued to regard him blandly, though Jack could see a flicker of interest within his dark eyes.
Jessica tossed back some blonde hair, then laughed dryly. "Please, Harlton, do sit down."
Jack pulled out a seat, indicating for Melan to sit, then he sat beside her. Melan was tapping her foot beneath the table; he could tell that she was nervous. And so was he. He swung his legs beneath the table.
"Jack Harlton," repeated Kayden; he let the name roll off of his tongue, as if he were contemplating something. "I wasn't aware that Joseph Harlton had a son."
Jack tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "He adopted me," he replied.
Kayden's eyes glinted. "Oh?"
Jessica tilted her head to the side, her chin in her hand.
Jack nodded slowly.
"Do you know who your real parents are, Jack?" asked Kayden.
"They're dead," he stated. Hopefully that would make them shut up about it and move onto another subject. He didn't want to talk about his parents to anyone, least of all someone that he barely knew.
"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry," cooed Jessica.
No, you're not.
Kayden regarded him placidly. "I apologize for bringing up the subject, Harlton. But, if you don't mind me asking, what were their names?"
Why was he so curious?
Jack didn't know how to answer. They were making him angry, annoyed. Who the hell did they think they were just randomly asking him questions about his parents when he had just told them that they were dead? He didn't want to think about it. Why didn't they get the hint?
"I do mind you asking," he replied. "And if you're so curious, look it up yourself." He pushed back his seat and stood up.
Jessica regarded him with surprise.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Sir," bit Jack acidly.
Kayden raised an eyebrow. "I hope to see you again, Harlton."
Jessica stood up, a glass of wine in hand. She walked towards them and outstretched her hand. "Do have a drink before you leave, Harlton."
He blinked. What was she up to?
"I'm not thirsty."
She cocked her head to the side. "What a shame. I guess that the drink will just go to – " She tilted the glass, causing the drink to spill over Melan's dress. She smirked. "Waste."
Melan gasped. "You bitch."
She let out a dry laugh. "Enjoy the party, kids."
He had never thought that she was capable of doing something so immature.
* * *
Cal leaned against the edge of the table, a glass perched in his hand. "There's time yet. Do you want a drink?"
She bit her bottom lip. "Where do you get them from?"
"The corner where all of the tables are. But I'll get it for you if you want," he replied.
She blinked. "Okay. Thanks."
He put the glass on the table, then heaved himself up. "No problem. But keep an eye on him."
She nodded. "I will."
Lia leaned against the table, her eyes scouring over the room. There were so many people there that they seemed to blend into each other. She began to play with her hair; it curtained her face, falling elegantly to her waist. She must have looked scary. She brushed half of it behind her ear, then watched everyone again.
A Cadlian girl was walking towards her. She was pretty, Lia observed, extremely pretty, and she looked to be about seventeen.
She reached her, then shuffled her feet. "Hey, do you know where the bathroom is?"
Her black dress had a large, wet patch over the front. She must have spilled a drink over it or something.
Lia shook her head. "Sorry."
The girl leaned on the table beside her. "I told my date to meet me here in five minutes," she explained. "In case I couldn't find the bathroom."
Lia smiled. "Is he your age?"
The girl nodded. "Seventeen. I'm probably a few months older." She outstretched her hand. Lia took it. They shook. "Melan," she supplied.
"Li– Lisa." She couldn't afford to give her her real name. That would have been a stupid move.
If she had noticed the hesitation, she didn't comment. "Do you have a date?" asked Melan.
Lia bit her bottom lip, then brushed some hair behind her ear. "You could say that."
They stood in silence for a few minutes.
Melan arched an eyebrow, then cocked her head to the side. "So…"
Lia grinned. "So…"
Melan laughed. Lia joined in. The awkwardness was amusing. She liked this girl. It had been a while since she had properly held a conversation with a Cadlian girl who was around her age.
They both grinned.
"Is your date a Cadlian?" asked Melan.
Lia bit her lip. "Elonsican. Though I'm not sure whether I'd call him my date…"
"Oh?"
Lia shrugged. "Yeah."
"I was going out with a Gredge a while back," supplied Melan.
"Was?"
Melan's expression fell. "He cheated on me."
Lia blinked. "With another Gredge?"
Melan let out a dry laugh. "No, funnily enough with my best friend. Who was also a Cadlian."
"Oh." She knew that it would be best to change the subject. The conversation was getting awkward. "How about the one you're with now?"
Melan shrugged. "He's really sweet and I like him. So we'll see how that goes." She brought her finger to her lips. "But if you meet him, hush, don't tell him that. He doesn't know that I like him and his efforts are really cute."
Lia laughed. "Nice tactics."
Melan grinned. "I know, yeah."
"Li!"
Lia looked up, then met Cal's gaze. He had a look of urgency on his face. Melan followed her gaze.
"Your date?"
She was so glad that he had said "Li" instead of "Lia."
She stood up quickly. "Yeah, sorry. I have to go. It was nice meeting you and have fun with your date."
Melan smiled. "Thanks. You too."
"Melan!"
Lia rushed forward; Cal's expression was serious.
She just about caught Melan's last words, "Oh, here he is now."
She didn't bother turning back to look. Cal grabbed her arm and pulled her further into the crowd.
"I thought I told you to keep an eye on him!"
Lia looked around. They were surrounded by people and no Fallock.
Oh, god.
"You're lucky Carmon spotted him, but we have to hurry. Come on. He's already left."
Lia nodded. "Okay."
He led her out of the building, easily slipping through the front entrance. The cool night air welcomed them as they stepped out into the darkness and towards the car. They hurried inside and Lia pulled on a long black coat, then tucked her hair into a hat. She bit her bottom lip, then pulled on her mask and gloves.
Cal had done the same. He was waiting, patiently, for the signal. Something on his belt beeped. The coast was clear. He pulled the accelerator and then they were off into the night.
Jack slipped an arm around her waist.
She sighed. "I couldn't find it."
Jack blinked. "Who were you talking to?"
The girl had moved far too fast for him to see her properly, but he was sure that he recognized her from somewhere. And he knew it was something important.
Melan bit her bottom lip. "Her name was Lisa."
He gazed down at Melan's dress, then looked around. "Shall we get out of here?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
They began to make their way out of the building.
Lisa?
Lisa? He was pretty sure that he had never met anyone called Lisa. It was probably just his imagination, he surmised.
Moonlight danced over the gray tarmac. An owl hooted in the distance; the night was still, calm.
Lia backed away, into the shade of the towering tree. Darkness encompassed her vision, save for the thin beams of light escalating from the windows above. Cal wrapped his arms around her from the back. They made her feel warm. She tilted her head to the side, then looked up and met his gaze. His face was shrouded in a thin, black mask. All she could see were his eyes. He looked scary, dangerous, inhuman.
She knew that she looked the same.
He was, she was, dressed like a reaper, the grim reaper preparing to blow its horn of death and swing its axe into the carcass of its victim, watching as the blood trickled and glinted over the harsh metal like the life of him whose blood danced beneath the wavering moonlight and stained the heavy axe, spilling into its cracks and painting them a heavy rouge.
"Do you have the key?"
She nodded and pulled it out. He took it and walked out from the shadow of the tree, Lia in tow. They had to hurry and get into the house before he did; otherwise, the plan would go wrong. They couldn't afford for it to go wrong.
The wind lashed against the skin around her eyes. It was strong, heavy. A few leaves rustled beneath her feet as she walked along the path, her pace fast. Cal pushed the key into the lock, then turned it, slowly.
Fallock had already opened the gate, so they only had to open the front door.
He was around the back, parking his car. They were lucky that his garage was separate.
But they had to hurry.
They entered the main hall and closed the door behind them. She noticed the grandfather clock stood along the wall and leaning against the smooth plaster. They hurried across the carpet, mentally recalling the lay out of his house that they had stolen from the information centre only a while back.
The carpet was soft, rich; she couldn't hear her footsteps as she ran across its surface. She hid beneath the main staircase. Lia backed against the wall. He wouldn't see her there unless he looked and, if the unlikely event of him looking did occur, she would just have to shoot him straight away.
She hoped that it wouldn't.
Cal was probably already in his allocated position. Now all they had to do was wait. The front door creaked open; its rusty hinges the only sound within the silence. The light flickered on; Lia squinted, then refocused her vision.
Fallock's voi
ce boomed through the hallway. "My mother! My bloody mother!"