Second Transgression

by Wendi L. Wilson

  I shake my head, trying to clear it of him once more. I think about my tumble to the ground, scrambling to regain my feet and rushing from the room like a lunatic. I remember someone calling my name as I dashed away—it was a girl’s voice. But it hadn’t been Lark, Jolene, or Acadia. They were between me and the door and the voice had come from behind me. Strange.

  I shrug the thought off. I have more important things to figure out, like how I’m going to convince Echo that my tumble in the mess was just a clumsy accident that had nothing to do with what I saw. Once I do that, I’m going to have to find a way to numb myself to the pain, move on with the plan to take Echo down, then get back to my old life with my family.

  And without the people I’ve come to care for since I’ve been here.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After a restless night, I find myself missing shower time altogether when Jax shows up with a summons from the headmaster. I’m to meet him in his office immediately. I run my fingers through my tangled hair as we walk while hoping my eyes aren’t too puffy from the tears I couldn’t hold back throughout the night.

  When we reach Echo’s door, Jax gives me a nod and holds it open for me, motioning for me to go on in. I’m so physically tired and emotionally exhausted, I barely bat an eyelash to find the man, himself, seated behind his desk in a burgundy bathrobe and pajama pants.

  I stop just in front of his desk and wait for permission to sit. Echo waves me into a chair, and I lower myself into it while keeping my eyes on his face. He looks a little harried, like he’d rather be somewhere else. I’ve never seen him anything less than perfectly composed, so this is very strange. If things were different, if I wasn’t being sucked into a vortex of depression, I might even be intrigued enough to ask him about it.

  “Miss Finley, thank you for coming.”

  Oh, I’m Miss Finley again, am I? Okay, I’ll bite.

  “You’re welcome, sir,” I say politely. “Is there something you need from me?”

  “No, actually, this is about something I am going to do for you,” he replies.

  “Sir?”

  “I’ve decided to upgrade your accommodations. You will be transferred to my wing of the building to stay in one of my guest suites, which includes a private bathroom and shower. You may also dine with me in my private dining room.”

  “That is very generous, Headmaster.”

  I attempt to say the words with grace and gratitude, but my mind is rebelling at the idea. Under this guise of generosity, his true motive is clear. He’s isolating me once again. I wonder if the footage from the mess hall instigated this offer, or if this was his plan all along.

  “Think nothing of it, Rory,” he purrs, but a screeching banshee cuts off any reply I might have had.

  “What is she doing here?”

  “Tiana, I asked you to wait for me in my bed.”

  Woah. My eyes widen as my mouth falls open, and I quickly attempt to school my features before either of them notice. As much as the thought of them in bed together grosses me out, the fact that Echo trusts me enough to talk about it in front of me is a good sign.

  Or maybe this is yet another test. This one engineered to determine my loyalty, rather than my power. If I keep this to myself, Echo will know he can trust me. As his eyes slide to mine, anticipation shining in their gray depths, I know I’m right.

  This is a test. And failing is not an option.

  I lower my eyes to my lap as Echo reassures Tiana and sends her on her way…back to his bed. I can feel the burn of his stare when he refocuses on me, but I keep my eyes cast downward until he speaks.

  “It goes without mentioning that what you just witnessed should remain between us.”

  I lift my eyes until I lock gazes with him. With a solemn expression, I tilt my head and arch a brow.

  “I saw nothing, sir.”

  His lips tilt up as he says, “Good girl. Now, I’ll have Officer Woodrow show you to your room. Take a day to settle in and relax, and tomorrow I will show you my personal workout room. I believe the space shall be sufficient for our training.”

  I nod my thanks and rise, turning only after he waves me away. Halfway across the room, he calls my name. I stop, take a cleansing breath, and turn around.

  “Yes, Headmaster?”

  “I’ve been reaching out to my contacts in the city. I thought I might find your birth parents.” I can’t restrain my gasp, but luckily, Echo misinterprets it. “Do not get too excited. So far, I’ve come up emptyhanded.”

  “Thank you for trying, sir,” I mutter, cringing at the wobble in my voice.

  “In fact,” he says, stroking his chin, “I haven’t found any information on you at all. There seems to be no records that Rory Finley even exists.”

  “I’ve spent my whole life on the streets,” I say, thinking fast. “I have not hesitated to use Glamour to make myself a ghost. Invisible. I made one mistake, not disappearing that night after the club. I was so upset and terrified, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “Lucky for me,” he mumbles under his breath, and I pretend not to hear the words as he dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

  When I reach the hall, Jax is waiting. Without a word, he turns and heads further down the corridor to a portion of the building I haven’t been through yet.

  The lighting is dim, with warm colors on the walls and plush rugs along the floor. He stops in front of an intricately carved wooden door and pushes it open. Stepping to the side, he waits for me to brush past him. As I do, his hand snakes out and presses a piece of paper into my palm. I close my fist around it, but don’t otherwise acknowledge the note.

  The door closes softly behind me as I take in the room. A large, fluffy-looking bed sits against the left-side wall, sandwiched between two ornate night stands holding glass lamps. A door on the right reveals a bathroom with white porcelain tile floors, a large bathtub and a separate shower.

  But the thing that holds my attention is the wall in front of me, which holds two large windows. Windows! I rush forward to look outside, my breath catching at the sight of rolling hills covered in large, leafy trees and thick, green grass. The sun sparkles off a body of water nestled between two hills.

  It’s beautiful, and my eyes sting with tears as I think about how long it’s been since I’ve seen the outdoors, much less breathed in fresh air with the sun on my face. I fight the urge to try to open the window, some rational part of my brain knowing Echo probably has it spelled to alert him if I do. I can’t lose his trust so quickly after earning it.

  Remembering the note clenched tightly in my fist, I sit on the edge of the bed. I search for any Glamour in the room, but find none. I am truly alone.

  Unfolding the paper, I smooth out the creases and read the words written in Jax’s hand.

  I was working in the surveillance room last night and deleted the footage of the incident in the mess hall before he saw it. I have much to tell you, but you have to be patient. All is not as it seems.

  I roll my eyes at that last bit. While I’m extremely grateful Jax has my back and had the foresight to delete that footage, I don’t know why he has to be cryptic about the rest. Normally I’d fret over it, wondering what he meant, but my current mood won’t allow for it.

  And there’s nothing I can do but wait until he’s ready to explain.

  I stand and head into the bathroom, admiring the shiny white surfaces. I stare at the bathtub and decide a long, hot bath is just the thing I need. I twist the knobs to get the water running, adjusting them until steam billows up as the tub fills.

  Walking over to the toilet, I set the note on fire, letting the ashes drift down into the bowl. Then I flush them away and turn back toward the tub. A dainty metal stand is situated beside it, topped with large, fluffy towels. An assortment of soaps and lotions grace the second shelf, and I pick one up and twist off the top. Holding up to my nose, I inhale deeply.

  It smells like lavender and orchids.

  This whole place is surre
al, but I am just going to go with it. I strip off my clothes and sink into the bath, sighing as the hot water envelopes me. I lay my head back and close my eyes, fighting to keep my mind clear. To not think about Echo, Jax’s note, or how much I miss my friends.

  And I fight off images of Asher with the mystery blonde in his arms.

  THERE’S a clock on one of the night stands, and as much as I thought I’d appreciate knowing the time, the reality is much different. I have nothing to do but watch its hands slowly tick off the seconds, minutes, and hours.

  Sleep eludes me, despite the cushy comfort of the bed. And there’s not a single crack in the ceiling to count.

  I miss my friends. I miss Acadia’s innocent strength, Jolene’s quiet fortitude, and Cedric’s sense of justice.

  I miss Lark’s face. The way she can always make me laugh and her constant, non-wavering devotion and support.

  And Asher—

  No, I’m not going to dwell on it anymore. I know it’s better this way. It’s safer for them to not be involved. The distance between us is necessary, and I should have stuck with my original plan and not let myself hope I could fix things and get them all back.

  It’s too late. The damage is done and it’s for the best.

  My dark thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. I jump to my feet, eager for any break in the monotony. My hopes that it might be Jax come to explain his cryptic note are dashed at the sight of a woman in a pristine, white uniform.

  She passes me a garment bag without a word, and turns to go.

  “Wait,” I call out. “What is this?”

  “Headmaster expects you to dress for dinner,” she says. “Change and head to the dining room at six, sharp.”

  “Where is the dining room?” I ask before she can hurry away.

  She heaves a small sigh, like I’ve somehow become the bane of her existence by asking a simple, yet critical, question.

  “Straight down this hall, then take a right at the end. You can’t miss it.”

  With that, she stomps away before I can waylay her again.

  “What did I ever do to her?” I grumble as I swing the door closed.

  I unzip the garment bag as I walk toward the bathroom. Hooking it over the top of the door, I peel back the sides and get my first look at what Echo wants me to wear. My eyebrows hike up as my gaze roves over the dress inside.

  It’s the same bright blue as the party dress I was wearing when I arrived at the reformatory, only this one is much classier. I run my fingertips over the satin material as my mind tries to make sense of it. Why would Echo want me to wear something like this to a private dinner?

  “I guess I won’t know until I get there,” I mumble.

  I look over at the clock beside the bed. I still have two hours before the appointed dinner time. I wander into the bathroom and open all the cabinets and drawers. There are electric hair tools, various accessories, and some basic makeup.

  Perfect.

  Styling my hair without magic and doing my face is a good way to kill some time, and anything is better than lying on the bed and obsessing over everything that’s gone wrong in my life. So, I put on a happy face and get to work.

  I’m ready to toss the curling iron out the window after burning myself for the third time. Whoever invented this complicated torture device was a total sadist. It takes me a full hour to successfully curl all my hair, and afterward I vow to never touch that evil rod of fire again.

  I carefully apply a light layer of the makeup, opting to keep a fresh face rather than the dark and smoky look the dress calls for. The outfit itself is already overkill for a simple dinner between prisoner and warden, so I’m not going to compound it with dramatic makeup.

  I pull off my prison garb and slip the gown over my head, careful of my hair and makeup. Luckily, the zipper is on the side, not the back. I run my hands down my body to smooth the material, then turn to look at myself in the mirror.

  My eyes widen as they take in the view. The blue dress fits me like a glove, accentuating my curves and hugging my body in all the right places. The low-cut bodice shows off the upper swell of my breasts, while thin straps barely hold it in place. The long skirt trails to the floor, with a long slit that shows off way too much leg.

  I turn around and look over my shoulder to see the back. It’s cut into a V-shape, baring my entire back, and I’m suddenly glad I decided to wear my hair down rather than clipping it up with the sparkly barrettes I found in one of the drawers. The way the material drapes makes my butt look amazing.

  If I were anywhere else, I would love the way I look.

  But I’m in prison, about to have dinner with a disgusting, power-hungry Sylph who wants to use me for some unknown yet certainly nefarious reason. The fact that he’s dressing me up like some flirtatious arm-candy is alarming, at the very least.

  A bulge at the bottom of the garment bag catches my attention, and I dig inside to find a pair of sky-high heels in a metallic silver color. Wrinkling my brow, I slip one on and put my weight down.

  It’s a perfect fit. Just like the dress.

  An icky, creepy feeling tattoos down my spine as I slip on the other shoe. How did Echo know my size? Did he keep the clothes I showed up to prison in? That’s just weird.

  I glance at the clock and realize I’m out of time. Taking one last cleansing breath, I pull open my door and head out, ready to face whatever the evening may bring.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Echo is already seated at the table when I walk into the dining room. He doesn’t comment on my appearance, but as he greets me, his eyes light up in a way that makes me feel dirty. I swallow against the bile rising up my throat and step forward.

  The large table is surrounded by eight chairs with Echo at the head, and the only other place setting is in front of the chair directly to his right. Echo rises and moves to stand behind the chair, pulling it out for me and scooting it in as I sit down.

  I thank him in a quiet voice as he retakes his own seat. We remain silent while the woman from before wheels in a silver cart topped with two domed lids. Pushing the cart up next to us, she lifts the lids with a flourish to reveal juicy-looking steaks, lobster tails, and pasta with thick, white sauce.

  She places a plate in front of each of us before draping silk napkins over each of our laps. She finishes by pouring two glasses of red wine and carefully setting them in front of us before leaving the bottle and wheeling the cart from the room.

  “What do you think, my dear?” Echo asks, finally breaking the silence.

  “It looks delicious,” I say with a small smile.

  But internally, I’m freaking out. This whole set up is first-date worthy—meant to impress. The fancy room, the dress, the shoes, this over-the-top dinner…

  What is Echo’s end game? Because if he thinks he’s going to seduce me, he has another thing coming. I am willing to do almost anything to make this whole plan succeed, but I refuse to do that. If he tries, I will mess him up and deal with the consequences later.

  I toy with the gold bracelet on my arm, imagining the old man’s face were I to blast him with it firmly in place.

  “You won’t be shackled by that forever, you know,” he says as he picks up a knife and fork and begins slicing his steak.

  “It will come off when my sentence is over,” I say coyly, garnering a sly look from him.

  “Of course,” he says, playing along, “but that is not what I meant. You have been slowly earning my trust, Rory, and if you keep proving yourself, I’ll deactivate that, permanently. You’ll still have to wear it, for appearances sake, but it will be reduced to a pretty trinket.”

  Which is all it is now, but he doesn’t know that, so I do my best to look intrigued and excited.

  “Really?” I gush.

  “Of course, my dear. I do not doubt that we will get there, eventually.”

  “Thank you, Headmaster,” I say, and he nods toward my food.

  “Eat, before it gets cold. Then
, we’ll talk.”

  I dig in, and the food is as delicious as it looks. I studiously ignore the way Echo stares at me as I eat, because if I acknowledge it or even catch his eye, I know I won’t be able to hide my disgust. As soon as I finish, the woman in the white uniform appears and takes my plate, replacing it with a small bowl of ice cream.

  Pleasure zips through me as my mouth starts to water, and I unintentionally flick my gaze to Echo. His smile is full of secrets I’m sure I don’t want him to reveal. My pleasure fades, but I force the smile to stay on my face.

  “Ice cream is my favorite,” I say, turning my eyes back to the bowl and dipping the spoon in to scoop a bit. It tastes like cardboard, but I roll my eyes with fake pleasure. “Delicious. Thank you, Headmaster.”

  “You are very welcome, my dear. And as our relationship progresses, this lifestyle will become more the norm, rather than an infrequent treat.”

  My eyes had snapped to his at the word relationship, and I can’t erase the look of alarm from my face. Luckily, he misinterprets it and is quick to ease what he thinks are my fears.

  “I’m sorry if I misled you with the special treatment today, but this is only temporary.”

  “Temporary, sir?”

  “I brought you to my wing of the building so we could have some privacy…to train.”

  That brief pause ignites a spark of alarm in me, and I pray my expression remains neutral as my mind goes into self-defense mode. I will not hesitate to blow this whole thing up if he makes any inappropriate advances toward me. When I don’t respond, he continues.

  “I only plan to have you here for a few days. Then I need you to return to the general population. Our success hinges on you becoming the leader I know you can be. It’s almost as if it’s your destiny.”

  Well, that’s a little too on the nose for my own peace of mind. It is my destiny—just not in the way he thinks. I decide to play stupid.

  “You want me to lead?” I ask, wrinkling my brow with confusion. “Lead whom?”