Order of Vespers

by Matilda Reyes

  My first stop was a questionable-looking salon, where I cut five inches off my hair. The second was the bargain clothing store across the street where I undressed and packed my clothes and slipped into a pair of skinny jeans, boots, a too-tight sweater, and a faux-leather jacket that still managed to cover up the gun I had not removed from my waist. Makeup was the last step. The mugshot showed a fresh-faced, scared girl with long hair.

  I was saucy, showing off my curves in tight clothes and was rocking a short, darker hairdo. I was also hoping that the police were dumb enough to fall for this ruse. Based on the gossip of women in the salon, I learned that the area was rife with homelessness and crime. I’d have to switch bags again, but I was confident that I could lose myself somewhere even the police avoided.

  I scanned the statistics on the temporary sign nailed to the side of the train station entrance. It housed plenty of youth shelters and community organizations — good enough place as any to get lost for a while. Dark was falling again, and I couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping outdoors, not in that cold, so I trudged my way up a hill with lights bright enough for a football field beaming up top.

  Ahead of me, a guy wearing a baseball cap and a hooded sweatshirt exited a building on my right. Although his hands were in his pockets and music blared through his headphones, he gave me the shivers. I couldn’t avoid him, and his eyes were all over me.

  “Sup, sweetie,” he murmured as we passed each other. “Looking good.”

  “Thanks,” I said uneasily. She watched him and poked at something I couldn’t see. She wanted to know if he was like her.

  “I don’t know you,” he said flatly. He stopped walking and stared at me. “I know everyone in this neighborhood. Where are you going?”

  “Don’t know what to tell you. I must have one of those forgettable faces.” Flippant and scared tones warred with each other. Fear won, and my voice shook. “Have a good night.”

  The man sighed and closed the distance between us. “For what it’s worth, Jasper,” he said quietly as he whirled me around and wrapped his large arm around my throat. “I’m sorry about this.”

  The last time Jude and I wrestled, and he tried to put me in a headlock, I junk punched him and ran away.

  This man wasn’t my brother. His muscles had muscles, and they were all currently restricting my airway. With his free arm, he reached into the waistband of my pants and removed the handgun.

  “G.. get off m..m..me,” I wheezed. “Asshole.” Adrenaline and my flight impulse kicked in as She roared to life; we kicked, punched, and scratched until my vision started to fade and all I could hear was the music coming from his headphones.

  The sonofabitch was listening to Beyoncé.

  PART TWO

  In the Dark

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IWOKE UP BY DEGREES. With sharpening consciousness, however, came a growing awareness of an unexpected numbness in my limbs. Voices around me grew louder until I could make out distinct words.

  “She… called to… too late… poor girl.”

  “So? She’s still… threat… neutralize.”

  “Don’t be idiots. If she poses that much of a threat, then put in the work. Train her. She’s raw, without any sense of how to control herself.”

  A woman’s voice, low and kind, said, “I think she’s waking up. We should probably take the hood off her head.”

  Hood? On my head? Holy crap. I’d been abducted by the boogie man. They found me. My family died, and they found me anyway.

  I fought a valiant battle with the crust gluing my eyes shut. It clung to my lashes and cemented closed my tear ducts. Somehow, it created a level of itchiness I didn’t know existed, the kind one had no way of knowing until they were unable to use their hands.

  Hands. Feet. Shit. Can’t move.

  Nope. Not happening. Not a real thing. If I said it enough, it would be true. So I did the same thing any reasonable person would do.

  “Help! Someone help me!” I struggled against the restraints. “Get me out of here!”

  “Jasper,” a calm, almost detached voice said. The same voice that abducted me. “Listen to me carefully because your safety depends on what you say next.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No,” he replied. “For the record, I don’t threaten. Now, how did you find us, Jasper Andrews?”

  “You drugged me and kidnapped me. I don’t have the faintest clue who you are or where you’ve taken me. Dude, untie me. This situation will get a lot worse.”

  The room sucked in a collective breath and held it.

  The man in front of me laughed. “Impressive set of cojones. If I remove this bag, do you promise to behave yourself?”

  “As much as you’d behave in my situation.” I closed my crust-filled eyes again and tried to extend my senses.

  The big guy is the muscle. The woman… potential ally or designated good cop.

  I growled despite myself. I wasn’t on the best terms with law enforcement at the moment. The feeling was mutual.

  Two other men and one woman inside the room. More just outside the door. People who are okay with abducting and restraining me.

  The boogie man found me.

  “The correct response is, ‘yes, of course, I’ll behave because I recognize the severity and direness of this mess.’ Got it?” The man leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I didn’t drug you. You went down quickly with minimal effort on my part. Remember that when I remove the hood.”

  The man who kidnapped me was in charge of this interrogation — the guy who listened to Beyoncé while attacking a young woman.

  He was gentle as he divested me of the black hood and shielded my eyes for a moment. “Take your time and don’t fight. You’ll only injure yourself and hurt your pride.”

  Lovely, classic perfume wafted toward me, a fitting introduction to the voice that followed.

  “You’ve terrorized our guest enough, Jordan. Go sit in a corner.”

  “Still don’t trust me, Cecilia? I’ll keep that in mind when I get a call in the middle of the night because someone needs a ride home.”

  “Hate to interrupt the marital discord here, because it’s amusing. But can I open my eyes, answer your ridiculous questions, and get the hell out of here? I have someplace where I’m expected.”

  “And? Your dinner plans are the least of your worries, Jasper Andrews. How did you find us?”

  “Jordan,” the woman hissed. “One thing at a time. Go on, now, and let me work.”

  I heard Jordan huff and guessed those were his heavy footfalls moving away from us. His retreating footsteps provided a moment of relief. Whoever he was, the guy had an overwhelming, eclipsing presence. He was also the guy who drugged — sorry, choked — me and threatened my life. He was also a jerk to his girlfriend.

  Cecilia applied a warm washcloth to my face, wiping away the sweat and eye crust.

  “Done?” Jordan snapped.

  “If you value your life, you’ll leave or stop asking asinine questions. I don’t disagree with your actions, but there’s no need to treat her like a criminal.”

  “Hey, guys,” I said, “I haven’t seen your faces, and I have no idea where — ”

  “We treat her however I decide. Until you’re in charge of keeping every person in this compound safe, don’t offer your advice. It’s not wanted.”

  Cecilia dropped the washcloth, whirled around, and jabbed her finger in the chest of a tall blond man with blue-green eyes. Jordan.

  Yep, still terrifying.

  “Maybe you should excuse yourself. Clearly, this case is messing with the minuscule amounts of decency you have left. The poor kid has suffered enough.”

  “Kid? Lady, I’m eighteen. I saw my family being murdered and might have killed an entire police station’s worth of people. Please don’t treat me like a child.”

  Jordan, who stared down at Cecilia with something akin to amusement, raised his eyes to meet mine. “Haven’t seen my face? Couldn’t help y
ourself?”

  “Shit.”

  “Enough!” The voice boomed from a black man I hadn’t noticed before. “Shelve your personal issues for a later time. You’re supposed to be debriefing her and preparing her to meet with the High Council.”

  Jordan’s lips twisted into a scowl, and he spoke stiffly. “Exactly.”

  “Good,” the black man said. “Shall we return to the matter at hand?”

  “Can Cecilia stay?” I asked Jordan quietly. “No offense to you, big guy, but you’re terrifying. If possible, I’d love to use the restroom, and I’d appreciate it if you weren’t the one watching.”

  The black man nodded his assent. The room cleared out save for a handful of people — Jordan, Cecilia, the black man, a young, Latino guy who reminded me of middle management at my part-time job, and two older women.

  “My name is Dakarai,” he said as he removed my restraints. He gently massaged my ankles and wrists. “My apologies for the way you’ve been treated.”

  “Am I a prisoner?”

  Jordan snorted to himself but leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed instead of answering.

  “Depends on what you mean by a prisoner,” the Latino man said. “Jasper, I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re safe here. We need to assess whether you’re a threat to our people.”

  Too many questions flashed in my head: good questions, but the least intelligent was the one that escaped. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

  Dakarai smiled, offered a hand, and helped me to my feet. “Of course, my dear. You’ll probably want to clean up, shower and nap. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Alright. I’ll try to expedite the process. You’ve already met Jordan and Cecilia. This,” he said, waving at the Latino man, “is Daniel. He’ll be your point of contact for anything operational.”

  “Why can’t you be my contact?” I refused to let go of Dakarai’s hand. He was the nicest person I’d encountered since the incident in school, and there was nothing that could make me give that kindness away.

  “Because I’m in charge,” Daniel snapped.

  My lips curled into a disdainful snarl. In the last week, I’d blown up a hallway in my school, watched my family murdered, was arrested, blew up a police station and escaped from custody and managed to get lost in Manhattan.

  I was having a terrible week, but I was coping.

  Daniel’s response broke me. He was just so mean, and his harsh words hurt more than the arm that had cut off my air supply or the fear and loss. I hated him. I hated all of them for knowing about me but acting too late. I hated that I was safer than I had been on my own. All the frustration and anger broke through in thick, panting sobs.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jordan clucked. “He’s all bark, Jasper. You can stop crying now. Please stop crying.”

  Sobs mixed with incoherent words I didn’t even understand as I curled into myself against a wall.

  Only walls weren’t warm, nor did they move with steady breaths. They didn’t wear t-shirts or cradle me like a child. They certainly didn’t smooth hair back from my forehead or hand me a handkerchief.

  “J-J-Jordan?”

  Captain Obvious, reporting for duty.

  He leaned against the wall, pulled me onto his lap and held me against his chest. “I won’t lie to you, Jasper. You’re not going to wake up and realize this was all a terrible nightmare. You’re not going to see your home or bed again.”

  “Smooth, Jordy,” Cecilia said. “Let’s completely traumatize her today.”

  “And since when did you develop a soft spot for prisoners?”

  Daniel, jerk face, asshole, mean piece of —

  “Danny, listen closely because we’re not discussing this again. There were better, more humane ways to bring Jasper here. I provided a list of those ways in my assessment, all of which were rejected. There’s no point in being cruel to her, especially now.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what? Why now?” Jordan shrugged. “Because, aside from being untrained, she’s not a threat. Right now, she needs a bed, a shower, and food.”

  “Are you sure this has nothing to do with your savior complex?” Cecilia’s voice was bitter. “She needs a friend, not a pit bull.”

  “Never claimed to be either,” Jordan responded evenly. “But you’re more interested in arguing with me, and Danny will likely torture her to death.”

  “Not helping,” Dakarai added. “Jordan and Cecilia, why don’t you show Jasper to a room and get her something to eat? Danny, you can utilize the time to prepare your report for the High Council.”

  The unexpected shift in dynamics was confusing enough to halt my sobs. I thought and had been told that Daniel was in charge. Yet, everyone seemed to defer to Dakarai. And no one had bothered to introduce the wizened older women sitting in the shadows. A small part of me wished that I wasn’t too devastated to make smartass comments. The other part was excited to be alive.

  Jordan complained, but picked me up and cradled me in his arms. “Cecilia, will you slip her bag over my shoulder?”

  “I’ve got it,” she replied. “And Danny, you and I will discuss this later.”

  Daniel ran a hand through his hair and swore. He nodded, kissed her cheek, and stomped out of the room.

  “Is there a particular room you’d like us to give her?”

  Dakarai pursed his lips. “I thought she might be comfortable in the new residential wing. There are several unoccupied rooms at the moment.”

  Jordan finally grinned. “Danny’s going to have a heart attack when he realizes she’s a few doors down from him. Cecilia and I can manage from here. Just shoot me a text message with the time of the meeting with the High Council.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Despite my protests, Jordan carried me through the huge industrial-looking complex.

  “You’re barely standing,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “The residential wing is on the other side of the compound. I’d appreciate not having to stop at the infirmary because you cracked your head open or fell down a flight of stairs.”

  Cecilia scoffed behind us. “Yup. That’s the only reason.”

  Except for the slight deepening of a single breath, Jordan didn’t react to the obvious personal dig. “Besides, you don’t weigh enough to be an inconvenience.”

  “Okay,” I replied and meekly hid my face in his shirt. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. We’ll get you settled in shortly. You’ll have a room and a private bathroom. There’s a laptop with limited access to the internet. Someone will bring you food.”

  “Why?”

  “Why are we feeding you and letting you sleep? Because we’re not monsters, Jasper.” Cecilia’s tone was just on this side of frosty as if I were encroaching on unwelcoming lands. “Protecting our people is our primary focus. Dakarai decided you’re not a threat, so now we’ll tend to your needs. Are you injured?”

  “No idea. And thank you.”

  “Is there anyone who might be searching for you?”

  I laughed. “The police? My brother’s best friend who wants to kill me literally? Small-town folk with pitchforks? Other than that, no.”

  “Other than that,” Jordan mocked. “They can’t find you or hurt you.”

  “Right. You’re nice.”

  “No, I’m not. Don’t mistake decency for innate goodness. If you want nice, talk to Cecilia or Dakarai. Even Mikael. Just don’t come to me.” Jordan stopped in front of an elevator bank and pressed the call button.

  “Who’s Mikael?”

  “You’ll meet him soon enough.”

  “Did someone say my name?”

  Jordan smiled widely. “Ask and ye shall receive. What’s up, bro?”

  The tall, lanky man raised an eyebrow and spoke with a noticeable Russian accent. “A present? You shouldn’t have, brat.”

  Cecilia glared at them. “She’s right here, idiots. As in don’t ignore her or speak about her as if she’s
not here.”

  Pot meet kettle much?

  Mikael bowed his head. “Forgive me? That was unspeakably rude.”

  “Hi, Mikael,” I squeaked, feeling ridiculous talking to him while being toted around like a puppy. “I’m Jasper.”

  He smiled kindly. “Welcome, sestra. Once you’re settled, I’ll give you a proper tour.”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, the word sestra bounced around, looking for the meaning. Although I barely knew the language, sestra sounded like a familiar, almost intimate, term of endearment.

  “Thank you.”

  “They gave you trouble, eh? Has anyone bothered to tell you anything?” Mikael stepped closer and peered at me, the infant in Jordan’s arms.

  “No. Jordan?”

  “Hmm?”

  The rat bastard was humming Beyoncé songs to himself.

  “Put me down.”

  “No.”

  Cecilia put a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Jasper, speaking from experience, you’ll have an easier time if you allow him the caveman routine. You’re Jordy’s responsibility, and since he’s the one who hurt you, he feels something—”

  Jordan stopped humming to himself. “Shut up,” he said quietly. “My reasons are my own. Make yourself useful or go away.”

  Cecilia squared her shoulders. “I’ve let your attitude slide in the past. Don’t push me.”

  He burst out into laughter. “Screwing Danny doesn’t give you authority here. Last time I checked, the safety of this facility and everyone here is my responsibility. I can be nice, or you can sleep without worrying about getting kidnapped or murdered. Your choice.”

  The elevator chimed, and the doors opened, a perfect desuetude to the conversation.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The door locked from the outside.

  True to his word, Jordan delivered me to a nondescript room in the residential wing, whatever that was. He held on to me as I regained my equilibrium and showed me around while Mikael and Cecilia watched from the open door.