by Perrin Briar
He turned and marched away. The women were left to glance at one another. What were they supposed to do?
Siren was the first to get to her feet and approach the door. She pushed on the handle and pulled the door open. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
If she thought the antechambers were opulent, she was in for s surprise. It was a large sitting room with an ornate fireplace. It wasn’t used much as the temperature was often consistent. The furniture was classical, something high society might have in their homes, built more for purpose than comfort. Famous artwork adorned the walls. There were further rooms to the right-hand side of this, the main welcoming room. Half the entire top floor had been modernized into an apartment.
A female assistant, fetching in a dark suit that hugged her every curve, stepped forward armed with an official-looking clipboard. She ushered the other women inside, to stand in front of the man before them. The girls were suitably impressed, intimidated by their surroundings.
The man lounged in a throne-like armchair. His anger was plain on his face, great fuming waves emitted by his unflinching glare. Now the girls were in place, the assistant turned to the Controller.
“Do you require anything further?” she said.
The Controller waved his hand to dismiss her. She shut the door behind her. They were alone. It was silent. Siren wondered what she had gotten herself into. She could sense the fear and nervousness coming off the other women. Strangely, she didn’t feel anything but calm serenity.
The Controller moved to a drinks cabinet and poured himself some brandy. He didn’t offer any to the girls. He walked back to the line of girls and eyed them each in turn, appraising them. He was handsome, in his mid-twenties. In obvious good shape. His eyes were dark, almost pitch black. He was a man used to his orders being followed to the letter. He was a man who did not suffer fools and did not waste his time with trivialities.
But the most surprising thing was what Siren could not sense about him. She felt at his mood and emotions with her ability, but it was like she was waving her hands in the air. There was no man there as far as she was concerned. There was no emotion, no life, within him. She scrabbled at him to feel for something, anything, but found he had nothing she could Push nor Pull. He was either able to block her out completely, or he was naturally immune to her power. Either way, she suddenly felt very, very nervous.
Chapter Nine
The Controller stalked before the women, eying them one by one. The women couldn’t bring themselves to look him in the eye. Except for Siren.
She was too busy trying to think of a way out of there to remember to be afraid. How could she even attempt to convince him to listen to her and Quinn’s concept when she couldn’t Compel him? She was in the midst of thinking this when the Controller stepped in front of her, into her line of sight. Her eyes met his. A smile curled his lips and made his eyes twinkle.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?” the Controller said.
“Uh,” Siren said. “No.”
“And why’s that?” the Controller said.
“You’re a man,” Siren said with a shrug.
The Controller’s smile grew wider.
“I am indeed,” he said.
He nodded at the other girls.
“You may leave us,” he said.
The other girls turned and headed away, a mixture of relief and regret on their faces.
“Drink?” the Controller said, walking toward the bar.
“No, thank you,” Siren said.
The Controller made her one anyway. Siren peered about the room, uncertain of herself and what she ought to do. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. The Controller handed her the drink.
“How long have you been in Arthur’s Port?” the Controller said.
“A day,” Siren said.
“And you’re in my chambers already?” the Controller said, a smile pulling his smile up. “You must be ambitious.”
Siren smiled nervously. It wasn’t entirely acting on her part.
“There’s something I need to speak with you about,” Siren said. “You see—”
“Sh,” the Controller said. “Come, let’s sit on the sofa and talk.”
They sat down. The Controller sat uncomfortably close. Siren weighed the cup in her hand and the other items dotted about the room she might use to smack him across the head to render him unconscious if he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
And still, Siren kept pushing her talent at him, trying to find a nook or cranny she might get a grip on and take advantage of, but there was nothing. It was like he was made of glass. With a firm grip on her cup in case she needed to brandish it as a weapon, she decided to tell him their plan.
“Me and a friend of mine had an idea,” Siren said. “It’s about how we might be able to use the Undead for our own purposes. You see, I have this gift… I can be quite convincing when I want to be.”
“I’m sure you can,” the Controller said. “Your charms are certainly working on me.”
He leaned forward to kiss Siren on the lips. She leaned back to avoid him, then sipped on her drink as if that was the real reason she had leaned backward. There had been a momentary flash of anger on the Controller’s face before it disappeared, replaced by a smile that seemed to like her shy behavior. Perhaps it was the challenge. If he knew Siren was only drinking so she could empty her cup so she could smash it harder over his head, she didn’t think he would find it so cute.
“How about we move onto the balcony?” the Controller said.
“Okay,” Siren said.
The moment they stepped outside, Siren felt the chill. It was nighttime and the breeze came off the sea. It was fresh and smelled strongly of salt. The boats in the harbor were moored and swayed with hypnotic rhythm. Siren reached out and immediately identified all the flickering lights of humanity below. She held onto them, gaining in strength from the knowledge they were out there. She wasn’t alone. And though she still could not pick up a single signal from the Controller, she felt relieved her ability had not left her.
Then, down there, she spotted something. In the darkness, she could only see the tiny figures as they moved about, going home after a long day of work. And there, she thought she recognized one of them.
It was Quinn, she thought. He was standing down there now, looking up at her on the balcony with another man. He felt… Nervous? Anxious? It was a concoction of the two. How could she get a message to him that she was in trouble? That she had no hope of convincing him to listen to her?
“Here,” the Controller said, draping his jacket over Siren’s shoulders. He lets his hands rest there a moment. He rubbed his thumbs at her neck and began to give her a massage.
Siren didn’t mind admitting it felt very nice. He had a strange smell, she thought. He wore a strong fragrance of flowers, but there was something underneath it… Something Siren had smelled before but couldn’t quite put her finger on…
His hands were beginning to lull her into a soft and gentle sleep. She felt his lips on her neck and couldn’t help but give in to him, to let him do what he wanted with her. A spike of alarm from the figure on the street caused her to snap back to reality. She stepped aside from the Controller, who lost his footing and bumped into the railing.
“Sorry,” Siren said. “I have… sensitive shoulders.”
The Controller took Siren’s champagne glass and tossed the remains over the side.
“I think it’s time we went inside, don’t you?” he said.
Siren isolated Quinn far below and sent him a powerful wave of fear and panic, Pushing out in all directions. There was no chance Quinn wouldn’t pick up on it. But what could he do? She was trapped in a room with a powerful man who she could not influence with her power. What could he do that she could not do herself? She would need to get out of there somehow. Get out, and then leave the keep. It ought to be a lot easier to do than it had been to get in.
The Controller took Siren by the arm and pulled
her inside.
“As I was saying—” Siren said.
It was as far as she got before the Controller pressed his lips firmly to hers. Siren prepared to rake her nails across his face, and kept one eye out for something she might use to beat him across the head with.
Then, finally, some luck. The doors banged open.
“What is it?” the Controller said, whirling around.
“I’m sorry, sir, I thought you needed help,” the guard said. He looked confused by his own words. “I mean, I had a feeling you needed me.”
Siren realized it was her own pulse of fear she had shot out in every direction. At least it had done some good. It brought her the distraction she needed.
“Does it look like I need your help?” the Controller said. “Get out.”
The guard bowed and backed out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind himself.
Siren grabbed the letter opener from off the desk and held it behind her back.
“Now,” the Controller said, turning back to her. “Where were we?”
He took a step toward her, toward his own oblivion, and then stopped. For a moment, Siren thought he’d seen what she’d done, what she had behind her back. Or perhaps there was a mirror at her back, showing him what she had. She daren’t look. Turning to look in that direction would cause her to reveal what she had in her hand.
Then the Controller turned in the direction of the balcony.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said.
He stepped outside, a look of confusion on his face. Siren didn’t waste a second. The moment he stepped outside onto the balcony, she turned and ran at the door. She pulled on it, revealing two guards standing to attention.
“The Controller!” Siren said. “He’s in danger! Out on the balcony!”
She Pushed a powerful thrust of fear at the guards. They bustled past her and into the room. Siren ran and didn’t look back. She ran to the stairs and ran down them, taking two, three, four at a time. All the way down, until she got to the second floor. Then she slowed, but did not stop, and walked the ward the main entrance where just an hour ago she and Quinn had managed to sneak her inside.
“Excuse me, Miss,” a guard said, putting a hand on Siren’s shoulder.
But she was ready for him, and had curled a tight fist of fear ready to use at a moment’s notice. It was the head guard who had tapped her on the shoulder, no doubt expecting her to fulfill her promise to him. She had no intention of doing any such thing.
“Undead!” she said. “There’s Undead in the keep!”
The head guard, full to brimming with fear, turned to the other guards.
“This way!” he said. “We must protect the Controller!”
They took off up the stairs. Siren, out of breath, staggered toward the main entrance. She leaned against the wall to steady and calm herself. She needed Quinn. She needed him right now to help take her back to their room. She’d had just about enough excitement for one day.
Someone grabbed her shoulders. Siren struggled.
“Let go!” she said. “Let go of me!”
“Siren!” Quinn said. “Siren! It’s me!”
Siren opened her eyes to find Quinn standing before her. She fell into his arms as he hugged her tight.
“It’s okay,” Quinn said. “Everything’s all right.”
Chapter Ten
Quinn led Siren to the hotel. It was the first time Quinn had seen Lydia so much as look up from her book, never mind actually getting to her feet.
“Is she all right?” Lydia said.
“She’s fine,” Quinn said. “She had something that didn’t agree with her, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”
“I think I know what that was,” Lydia said. “Be careful with her. She’s not a lump of meat.”
Quinn half-carried Siren up the stairs and into their room. Quinn cursed himself for insisting they take the room with the best view of the keep. It had to be on the top floor, didn’t it? Finally, they got to their room.
Quinn sat Siren down gently on the bed. Then he moved to the curtains and drew them. The moon was out and there was little to distract Siren, but she welcomed the care he showed in any case. She was still shaking from the event. Quinn opened a dented can of cola they had in their backpack.
“Drink,” he said. “It’ll take the edge off the shock.”
“Is that really true?” Siren said.
“I actually have no idea,” Quinn said. “Most of my education comes from the movies.”
Whether it really worked or not, or the simple act of her breathing slowly and calmly as she slurped on the cola was what helped her, she didn’t know. But she did begin to calm down.
“What happened up there?” Quinn said.
“I got into his chambers,” Siren said. “Then, for whatever reason, he chose me. We talked. I kept trying to tell him about our plan, our idea. But he wouldn’t listen. He was only interested in one thing.”
“Then what?” Quinn said with icy calm.
Siren could see the anger just beneath the surface.
“Then, I called out for help from you,” she said. “Then out to anyone, really. I don’t know if I could have stopped him if he… tried anything.”
“Then what happened?” Quinn said.
“The guards came in,” Siren said. “They picked up on my fear and came running in. They thought it was the Controller who had called them. I picked up a letter opener as they left, prepared to use it if necessary. But I didn’t need to. He’d been distracted by something outside.”
“That was me,” Quinn said. “I was Compelling what few Undead I could sense. I was trying to get them to attack so it would cause some kind of distraction. But there are so few Undead around here. I’m sorry I sent you in there by yourself. Next time we’ll come up with a better plan for you to Compel him.”
“I can’t Compel him,” Siren said, shaking her head.
“Why not?” Quinn said.
“Because he’s not alive,” Siren said. “He’s Undead.”
Chapter Eleven
Quinn blinked for a moment, running what Siren had just said through his brain.
“Undead?” he said. “But he can’t be.”
“I can assure you, he is,” Siren said. “I recognized his smell. There’s that sick, rotting smell that the Undead carry around with them. The Controller doesn’t look like he’s rotting, but that’s the smell he has.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t spoiled food somewhere?” Quinn said.
“No,” Siren said. “Definitely him.”
Quinn paced inside the room.
“But that’s impossible,” he said. “You said he can speak. And think. He runs this place for God’s sake! The Undead can’t do that.”
“It felt exactly like trying to Sense an Undead,” Siren said. “I couldn’t feel him there at all. He wasn’t there.”
“Undead?” Quinn said, still processing the information. “I always assumed I would lose my power if I was ever bitten by an Undead. But you know, come to think of it, there’s something about what that guy in the market said earlier that’s really been bugging me.”
“What?” Siren said.
“He said the Undead swept over the town of Hope,” Quinn said.
“Yeah, so?” Siren said.
“The undead don’t work like that,” Quinn said. “They wouldn’t just descend on a village like a wave. They would come gradually, a few at a time, gradually wearing the people down.”
“So, what are you saying?” Siren said.
“The way the Undead attacked Hope isn’t in their nature,” Quinn said. “The way they reacted was emotional, like someone was angry and wanted to make an example of them.”
“You’re saying someone sent them?” Siren said.
“Maybe,” Quinn said. “Or whipped them up into a frenzy. Either way, whoever sent them didn’t want there to be many survivors.”
Siren cocked her head to one side.
“There�
�s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” she said. “When I saw he was distracted by something outside, you said it was you. But if you couldn’t get a grip on the few Undead in the area, what could have gotten his attention?”
“He must have Sensed my ability,” Quinn said. “If he was an overlord, it would make sense.”
“That must be why he can keep the Undead away from Arthur’s Port,” Siren said. “Because he can control them.”
“Yes,” Quinn said. “Maybe it’s the fact he’s Undead that makes him so powerful. I’ve never felt anyone so strong before. It would take someone with incredible strength to keep all those Undead out there at bay like he does.”
“As if we didn’t have enough problems already,” Siren said. “But maybe this is a good thing. It means he already knows there are people like us out there, that we can manipulate people and the Undead. Maybe that’s why he’s inviting the other community leaders here in two weeks. Maybe he had the same idea who did.”
“Maybe,” Quinn said. “When you met him, what kind of person did he seem like? Was he good? Or lean more towards evil?”
Siren recalled how her skin shivered whenever he came near her.
“Not good,” she said.
“Based on what we know of this place, I would have to agree with you,” Quinn said. “The way he tore Hope apart like that…”
Siren thought back to the dilapidated village on the outskirts of Arthur’s Port, the one they had passed through on their way here. What had the local in the marketplace said? That the Undead had fallen upon Hope without mercy. And if the Undead were in charge of the Controller here…
It didn’t bode well.
“Maybe the only way to get strong with my power is to become one of them,” Quinn said. “An Undead.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Siren said. “This is going to be hard enough without you Turning into one of those things.”
“If it’s the only way to make me more powerful…” Quinn said.
“I’ll leave right now if you become like him,” Siren said with a shiver. “Look, this plan was already difficult before we began all this. Now we know that someone like the Controller is out there…”