The Garden

by Emily Shore

  I abandon Luc. Instead, I return to the sand to allow it, the sun, and the breeze to dry me. Luc remains in the water. In and out of the course of an hour, we watch each other. I watch him swim, his determination carving through the waves. He watches me distract myself, sift sand through my fingertips, string palm leaves together to form a crown, squash a bug every now and then until I finally fall back against the sand and close my eyes.

  An hour later, I wake to his shadow and an announcement it’s time to eat.

  The butterflies in my stomach are half-starved little creatures, wings droopy and abdomens empty. So, I shower quickly and dress even faster. Why should I have expected him to pack me anything other than white clothes? This time, I choose a skirt, but I test my own limits, finding one that hovers a little above my knees along with a sleeveless shirt, reminding myself the bare skin is for me. No one else. The sun reflecting my naked arms is my reward. Luc serves lunch on the second-level patio overlooking the ocean. Sunlight feels…nice.

  “Where is Force’s island?” I inquire between bites of salmon and asparagus.

  “East,” Luc replies. “Closer to the main key.”

  “How is this going to work? Are you going to make me wait here?”

  Luc shakes his head, then sips his wine. “I will not let you out of my sight. Besides, you are instrumental in this. And I won’t deny you the pleasure of capturing your own father. You will provide the diversion since there is still some security. Your appearance will divert that security long enough for me to incapacitate them.” I understand what he means by “divert” them, and I will perform—to a degree.

  “And once we arrive at the bungalow where he resides,” Luc continues to explain while slicing an asparagus in half, “we will proceed with caution. Above all, nothing but silence until I disable Jade’s security system. No guards will be inside, but Force and Jade will both have weapons nearby. You must understand, Serenity, timing is crucial. The best time to attack will be when they are at their weakest. I will give you the satisfaction of knocking out your father…with this.” Luc produces a vial from his pocket. He doesn’t need to identify it. What it is doesn’t matter to me. I am always more interested in what something does rather than its name or how it works.

  “How will we know when they are at their weakest?”

  I look up from my meal after a moment of silence to find Luc staring at me, scrutinizing me as if the answer should be obvious. “When do you think?”

  Swallowing a mouthful of water, I use it to push back the lump of food in my mouth before saying, “Oh…how will you know when—?”

  “I will know,” Luc reiterates without going into details.

  He’d warned me about this, but my breath still tussles with the one that came before it, tripping on its exhale to catch up. My next inhale tramples its previous one, and the pattern continues.

  “Are you ready?” Luc whispers as he moors the kayak against the small island sandbar.

  A hundred meters down or so beyond the clumps of tropical foliage, we can see a guard patrolling with a gun poised over his shoulder.

  “This will work?” I confirm once more. “He won’t signal the others?”

  “He won’t get the chance,” Luc whispers back before I get out of the boat and onto the sand to approach the guard from the front while Luc circles around from behind.

  Upon my approach, the guard tenses, gun aimed for me just before his eyes swell from my appearance, from how I begin to lower one strap of my shirt so he can see just the edges of my breasts before Luc takes the man’s head in his hands and twists once. The guard crumples at the same time I right myself—before Luc can see anything.

  “You said incapacitate. Not kill.” I’m scandalized, but more curious than angry.

  Luc eyes me once before clarifying, “And you think I’d let another man live if he saw you before me?”

  It sounds like something Sky would say. No, he’d flower it up for me a little, dramatize it, pretend to perform for me like the slave I turned him into when we were young. He’d say something like ‘would you prefer his eyes barbecued or deep fried before you eat them, milady?’ And he’d fulfill every word if I asked him. But Sky wouldn’t kill. Sky would never let me get near a dangerous situation.

  In a way, it makes sense for Luc to do what comes best for him because the less witnesses, the better. It can only aid our escape. Our next target is even easier and doesn’t require me exposing myself. Too surprised by my presence to even raise his gun. Luc’s objective is to get in and out with the least amount of attention, so he ignores the guards who are unaware of our presence. Once we hear voices from the garden that houses a private wet-room with a personal hot tub, we know we won’t have to get into the house.

  As we make our way through the garden, finding no more guards or security, I don’t consider once how this is too simple, too smooth with little resistance. Too convenient. No, all I can consider is the vial in my hand—mind focused. Until Luc touches the handle of the door.

  It opens before he gets the chance.

  In the next moment, Luc ends up on the floor, writhing from the electrical tremor shattering his nervous system.

  I look up. Straight into the eyes of Jade. First, I try so hard to focus on them—the sultry almond shapes in her face paler than mountain snow that never melts, but the rest of her body harkens to me. The way she straightens, the way her shoulders circle back. She is swollen with pride as her one bare foot plants down on the back of Luc’s neck. That bare foot sweeps to an even barer leg. Nothing but power in those naked legs. Authority in every limb, command in her berry-ripened cheeks, reign in her exposed neck, and control in every curve.

  “Luc Aldaine.”

  Her speaking Luc’s full name suits her. What makes me cringe is the way she leans over him, breasts plumping from the black leather bustier before she brandishes an electric cudgel close to his cheek, rubbing it there.

  “What a pleasure. Unexpected but pleasure enough,” she murmurs in his ear, tongue tracing its tip. “I quite like this view of you. Do you enjoy my added security measure?” He twitches. She continues, “A feat of genius. It only affects those with a Y chromosome.” She sinks her foot deeper as Luc succumbs to unconsciousness.

  When my eyes flick to the man relaxing in the hot tub behind her, head dipped back, ignoring the intrusive display, every hope pools around my feet like a candle wick melted of all its wax.

  It isn’t Force.

  And I’ve stayed frozen for too long, so I take one step forward, crouching for her. Then, Jade draws her eyes to me, reaching into her bustier and producing a small but keen dagger before raising her other hand and touching a finger to her ear.

  “Get in here now, you useless foot lickers!”

  Three seconds is all it takes before I can hear boots on the ground, but I narrow my eyes, prepared to charge for Jade before she raises the knife in my direction and elicits a warning.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Before I can react, security guards barrel toward me. The diversion is just what Jade needs because her next move is to spray something in my face.

  I’m getting really tired of passing out. Maybe as much as I’m getting tired of plans failing.

  6

  J a D e’s B a r G a I n

  Cold again like that day in the hospital—the same day I met Luc. Naked again. Strapped down. It’s a familiar cold, doesn’t bite as hard, feels like I can handle the bitterness like sucking back rancid herbs. Except this is no immortal treatment. No nurses in sterilized uniforms greet me. Just Jade. She wears more clothes this time. An ankle-length black robe with oriental accents—a floral green pattern woven into the fabric, but it’s also accented by a dark green corset that laces up to her bust with a plunging neckline parted so I can detect just the slopes of her breasts. Without the vat of makeup she wore before, she looks younger, closer to her true age that I ascertain is somewhere in her thirties. Her youth surprises me more
than Luc’s did.

  She sways over me, scrutinizing my eyes, and smiles once, lips parting to reveal teeth that compete with her white skin. “Your body could rouse a god.” She drags a finger along my arm and then to the center of my chest. “How is it possible that you’ve never used it, Swan?”

  I know she’s referring to my virginity.

  “How can you tell? The Immortal Implant returns the body to virgin state every twenty-four hours,” I counter, remembering one of the recent facts I learned about the implant.

  Jade trails across my arm. “There are advanced technological methods to determine virginity. Expensive, of course. But even without them, I can tell.” Jade rolls her eyes a little before cupping a hand over my forehead to say, “I can tell much, my flower.”

  Jade’s skin out-pales my own. Where my skin is like my mother’s—all cream and cotton—Jade’s is frost in the dead of winter. Just like her hair. A whiter version of mine that can boast some gray, some pewter, silver in sunlight. Ethereal angel hair, but not one strand curls. Everything only serves to accentuate her eyes, which are as infatuating and deep green as the Key’s turquoise waters.

  I strain against the straps pinning me and against her cloying perfume. She doesn’t stare at me with affection. No, Jade studies my curves for what secrets they can house, unlocking me like I’m a treasure chest.

  “Where’s Luc?” I demand, but her hand still does not retreat from my forehead.

  “He’s enjoying a well-earned reprieve in one of my guest rooms. After all, we both know Luc has been quite busy with you for far too long. Time for me to take the reins.”

  “I think he’d have something different to say.”

  “Oh, he already has, I assure you.” She finally raises herself, hand drifting off my skin. “I’m arranging a private breakfast in the morning where we will discuss your future. You will see him one last time. Unless he becomes a client of course.”

  By the way she says it, I have a feeling Jade as a director is going to be vastly different than Luc.

  Confined to my room until dinner, I spend the hours studying the world outside a few of my windows. One of them overlooks a pool house in the tropical flora and fauna surrounding the estate. Every now and then, I see a few girls embark into one. Some of them wear swimwear while others have body-paint. For one moment, I consider the alluring notion, given how much I enjoy skinny-dipping, but I throw it away, tossing it like a plucked petal.

  Not everything is different. From what I can tell, girls are defined by their flowers here as well as their colors. If they aren’t on display or attending to client needs, they wear dresses. Much shorter than Aviary ones. Some flit around in bikinis, taking advantage of the string of pools around the complex, which is a series of old architectural wings that makes up one grand manor with the ocean on the edge of the property and a lake in the center of the front courtyard. Nothing like the modern Aviary architecture. Not as high tech either, but Jade doesn’t need technology or stunning architecture to create beauty. Nature is enough.

  Since my room is in one of the upper-level corners, a window provides a view of the Mediterranean manor’s courtyard. High enough I can see the ocean a mile or two in the distance, the main portion of the room overlooks the expansive drive wrapping around the shimmery courtyard lake. Tropical flowers flourish everywhere. A few sculptures fleck the lake, spitting water patterns.

  Inside, the décor is nothing like Luc’s glass cage. Certainly, there are fresh, exotic flowers in glass vases fixed to the walls and on the table, but there are more oceanic elements. No fish tank, but I do spend time touching the orchid display on one wall because the sprite light wall doesn’t interest me. A couple of hours later, the bedroom door opens to a young girl holding a white dress.

  “Magnolia.” It’s her name, I surmise.

  She reminds me of Jade. Same pale skin but more ivory. Same white hair but with traces of gold like French cream. Her eyes are the palest milky color and unfocused. When I approach her, I understand why. She is blind.

  “Jade sent me to give this to you, and I’ll escort you to the dining room.”

  After I accept the dress, like the Aviary one but shorter, I wait for Magnolia to leave, but she doesn’t. At least she doesn’t say anything when I remove my old skirt and top to change into it. Her blindness gives her a permissible excuse to remain even if I can’t fathom what she’s doing here. Is she my preparer? She’s incredibly young if so.

  “I’ll help you with anything you may need,” Magnolia says before dropping her arms to her sides. “And it’s not polite to stare.” She doesn’t sound aggravated. Just like this is ritual for her.

  Tilting my head, I assess her clothes, the same dress but in a dull pink, the color of rosewood. It’s more how she carries herself like her skin is made of nails that she hammered in slowly over time until she fabricated a suitable armor. She wears thin lace slippers and gives me a similar pair before I follow her into the hallway and to an elevator. Unlike Luc’s security that only he and ranking security guards had access to, the elevator is accessible to anyone as I soon learn when another girl joins us. Her skin, a hickory-nut brown, looks odd with her magenta dress. Even odder are the permanent bloody teardrops weeping from her eyes until I learn her name.

  “Bleeding Heart,” Magnolia acknowledges her with a nod, and I wonder how she knows who stepped into the elevator.

  Bleeding Heart pauses to survey me. “Hmm…the Swan. A pleasure.”

  I tense when she sweeps to my side, even more shocked when her lips peck each of my cheeks. At the sight of my stiff shoulders, Bleeding Heart flutters a hand in the air to assuage my anxiety.

  “None of that competition here, Swan. This is the Garden. We’re all equal Flowers. We grow the same. No flying higher than others if you catch my drift. Oh, and by the way…digital tattoos.” She gestures to the ever-moving teardrops. “Gorgeous, right?”

  Bleeding Heart doesn’t get a chance to say more before the elevator opens to the first floor. She disappears down one hallway while Magnolia leads me to the dining room where Jade and Luc are seated at a great white dining room table with Jade at its head. Behind her is an ornate stone fireplace complete with two marble pillars on either side of it. A frame hugs one whole wall filled with nothing but tropical flowers in a variety of colors like each one symbolizes a girl in Jade’s collection.

  “Thank you for appreciating my art. I had the finest botanist design the mural for me,” she boasts, eyes sweeping the prized blooms. “The flowers never die. Naturally, we will have to add yours. Now, please sit, Serenity.”

  I pause at the mention of my real name, which I never gave to Jade, but she continues as I pull out the chair.

  “Don’t look so surprised, my dear. Your father has told me much about you in the past few days. But don’t feel alarmed in any way. I won’t be sharing information of your arrival here with him for quite some time. I feel entitled to a sense of compensation, you understand.”

  That’s when I notice Luc’s expression—lips contorted into a grimace of malcontent, lethal eyebrows tapered down. Just after I read him, Jade drums her manicured nails across the top of his hand and plumps her lips into a pout.

  “Don’t look so sullen, Luc.” She calls him Luc? “You know I am being quite generous, considering you trespassed onto my property, murdered two of my men in cold blood, and had every intention of abducting and doing harm to one of my most respected clients.”

  “Respected,” I spit out the word, and Jade turns to eye me.

  “Why yes. Force pays a good sum to rent one of my islands, and he takes a special interest in my Flowers. He also extends the courtesy of giving me a potential Flower every now and then. Just like he did the other day. I was surprised he didn’t seek his intimate time as he usually does, but he said he had important business to attend to, business that involved the search for his daughter. Pity he didn’t consider how she might come to him. Mores the pity, but all the better for me.”
>
  She scoots back in her chair, sipping at a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice before ringing a bell that heralds a troop of young men carrying trays into the room. Each one is set before us—a meal of exotic fruit, cheese, and biscuits with clotted cream. I don’t let Jade’s company sour the meal.

  “The room across from hers as we agreed,” Luc stipulates while cutting into one of his fruits.

  Jade nods once, samples a wedge of cheese. “Of course, Luc. Free of charge, which is more than generous with your impolite arrival. I will even grant you exclusive access to each of her displays. You see, I intend for them to be private. Can’t risk her father catching on. Fortunately, we both have that common interest.” She sips at her orange juice again. “So, I will reach out to my international clients and other wealthier ones. Each one has a certain taste for privacy, and their non-disclosure agreements will ensure their silence. The opportunity to see the Swan unveiled as a Flower will prove too tempting to resist.”

  Infuriated, I stand, bumping the table and spilling my water glass at the same time. I march toward Luc. “You gave up your Aviary so I would be free! What. The. Hell?”

  Jade rises to challenge me, her height towering over mine as she sways toward me. Except, she pauses for her hand to settle on Luc’s head, nails curling in his strands. He doesn’t flick it away. “You mustn’t blame dear, sweet Luc. I find most men inferior, but he is one I may count worthy of respect.”

  It concerns me how Luc remains absolutely still when Jade plays with his hair like one toys with a puppy.

  “You must understand, Serenity, you are in my domain now,” Jade goes on. “I make the rules here, and as I stated before, I am being very generous to allow Luc to remain here. Trust me when I say you will both share the common interest to remain.”