by Emery Hale
‘You’re not going near Reign.’
‘Yes I am. Otherwise, those videos go live and in print in tomorrow’s papers.’
‘I can take your phone – by the time you get home the videos will be found and deleted, all recordings, the lot,’ Kayson tried, but I only felt the smirk grow on my face.
‘You know if I don’t text my mum by . . . ’ I checked my watch, two-thirty, ‘three o’clock, then everything will be released to the public.’
As Kayson’s frustration rose I knew I had won this battle. He didn’t look like he knew what to say or, frankly, what to do. I bet this had never happened before.
‘So I’ll ask – no, I’ll tell you. Get me into the Reign Academy.’
* * *
Kayson gave me a lengthy lecture before we even took a step out the pub because he felt the need to lay down the rules: keep my head down, don’t speak even if spoken to, and if anyone asked I was overseeing an issue on behalf of Thames House.
I’m sure impersonating a government official was illegal but since I was breaking into a secret institute I pushed that though to the back of my mind. That and I didn’t want to ask any more questions right now. Kayson was angry – he barely looked me in the eye as we left, concentrating on the small pay-as-you-go phone in his hand. That’s the explanation for all the ‘new phone number’ texts from Jessica over the years then. What would the faculty do to him if they found out he’d helped me break in?
He told me he didn’t have his own car, because anything involving the outside world, the Academy drove them to. Apparently Kayson did have his licence and, I quote, ‘would put Ethan Hunt to shame’.
While we waited for the car to arrive I texted my mum to let her know everything was going to plan. She didn’t respond, so I assumed she was busy with work. Bet her boss wouldn’t be a fan of sending me undercover to sniff out a story.
The wind became harsh and bitter as Kayson and I stood on the street but as I wrapped my arms around my torso, I felt the wire shift underneath my shirt. I was worried that anything recorded would be muffled, but I didn’t try to shift it – if Kayson saw I was wearing a wire there was no way he’d take me in.
‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked me, jamming his fingers into his pocket.
‘Of course I am. No one deserves what they do to you,’ I said. ‘No matter how much of an ass you are.’ I glanced his way but he didn’t return it.
He remained silent as a long, sleek black car pulled up, exactly like the one I’d seen before. But now it was up close, I could see the front and back windows were tinted so even the driver remained a mystery. Kayson opened the door and got in without so much as a word to me, before I climbed in after him.
Just as I did, I noticed that passers-by had started to stare, some muttering under their breaths. I wanted to tell them to piss off, since none of them knew the first thing that was going on. How getting collected was probably the opposite of luxury.
The interior, however, screamed luxury: plush leather seats with a silver R etched into them, little compartments along one side, presumably filled with various things, and the other side stocked with water bottles and power outlets. You could legit straighten your hair in here. There was a partition separating us from the driver, so hopefully he couldn’t hear what we were saying. This school must have funding in the millions to afford all of this.
‘Could you look any more surprised?’ Kayson asked condescendingly as he sat back, not bothering to put his seat belt on, tucking something from his pocket under the seat. He reached into the compartment beside him, pulling out sunglasses and tossing them to me. ‘Put those on.’
They were simple and black, nothing special at all, but as I gazed over to the compartment he pulled them from, more than five pairs were stashed in there.
‘Why?’ I asked, but didn’t get an answer.
Kayson reached into another compartment and pulled out what looked like an ID badge with a silver clip. He contemplated it for a moment before chucking it in my lap without a second glance.
‘If anyone asks to see your ID you’re going by the name of Marsha Evans – you’re here from Thames House and have been instructed to speak to no one.’ As he spoke the car started moving, and that’s when the unreadable face became extremely readable: nerves and anxiety shooting from every crack and crevice of his body.
‘Why do you keep fake IDs in here?’
‘Emergencies.’
His palms rubbed together as he shifted in his seat, looking anywhere but me, his eyes cast firmly out the window. I was right, this whole operation went above Scotland Yard – and, it seemed, the British Government. Maybe this was something behind the Government? Or worse, something ran through them. No it couldn’t be, they were on our side, the whole reason we had a Government in the first place was to voice the concerns of the people, and they sure as hell wouldn’t approve of this.
‘You want me to pretend to be this Marsha person?’ I asked.
‘Yes, if you want to keep your head bullet-free,’ he snapped. ‘Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into? I’ll answer that – no. Your friend asked me to protect you, to keep you safe, and now you’re blackmailing me.’
Keep your head bullet-free. I knew these people were abusers, but would they shoot me on the spot? I had my theories – did they warrant my murder? I had a feeling I was about to step into a different world, where people were replaceable and murder took the moral high ground.
At that I paused and thought carefully before I spoke.
‘If the videos went live what would happen?’
‘Well, you –’
‘Not me,’ I interrupted, ‘you, what would happen to you?’
Kayson finally looked my way, uncertainty clear on his face, then took in a breath, regaining composure and that unreadable expression.
‘Why don’t we just focus on keeping you alive?’ he asked.
Alive, was that was this was? I felt like I didn’t know the meaning of the word. My life was mundane: I went to school, got good grades, planned to find a job that I liked and stay there. Was that living? Going from one thing to the next, A to B then C to D. Surely there had to be more – Jessica and Kayson were proof of that.
CHAPTER 9
Defiance
Open resistance; bold disobedience.
NAOMI JADE
The car ride took a little over an hour since there wasn’t much traffic. Kayson remained quiet, constantly checking his phone, but for what reason he wouldn’t say. I’d pinned the ID to my jacket and was repeating the fake name over in my head so I wouldn’t forget it. The badge was a peculiar one: no photo, only a name, security number and a barcode at the bottom. I wondered if Marsha existed at all.
As the car slowed I turned my attention to window. Despite danger and uncertainty pressing down on me, I couldn’t help but spectate in awe as we drove past the tall, black, pointed iron gates. The stretch of drive was lined on both sides with a cathedral of trees, the leaves draping over one another. Each side looked well-tended: the grass lush, the trees a rich green with vibrant flowers planted below, and there was a subtle crunch of gravel as we drove over it. If only this wasn’t a cover.
I wanted to reach for the video phone, but since this was what you saw in the pictures online, I decided the audio would work best for now.
When reached the end of the gravel drive the car turned to the right, giving me the perfect view to the Academy. It wasn’t modern: the entire building was made of stone, mimicking the structure of a fortress, with a large looming tower to the left, complete with stained glass windows. The front of the building was prominent and dark, with monstrous mahogany doors. Below, a set of wide stone steps led down to the head of the drive, but the car didn’t stop there.
I turned around in my seat to look out the back and saw another, separate building, a stark contrast to Dracula’s castle. It was completely modern, with a full glass front and a thick grey roof. From what I could tell, it was fi
lled with gym equipment. This place had its own gym? What next, a vineyard?
Suddenly, Kayson knelt down on the floor, sifting frantically through various compartments.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
I couldn’t see what he was doing, but the way he stuffed tissues into his jeans pocket made my face screw up, what the hell? Was he a hoarder as well? I bet he was the person who nicked all the shampoo and towels from hotels.
‘Seriously, what are you doing?’
Kayson shuffled further over and pulled open a drawer, taking out an ice pack, which he threw on the seat beside me.
‘Put that in your bag.’
‘Why?’
‘Just do it.’
I rolled my eyes, shoving the stupid thing in my bag before zipping it shut. God he was an asshole. Do this, do that – how did anyone put up with him? Even his name, Kayson Ashford, sounded like a right bampot.
The car came to a halt and Kayson got out quickly, slamming the door behind him. Guess it was time to get out, then.
Once I stepped out the car I slid the sunglasses on, but Kayson grabbed me roughly by the elbow, leading me down a small concrete path and around a corner until we stood at the tail end of what I assumed were the dorm houses. They too were made of stone, ivy weaving throughout, while windows lined the entire block, multiple houses joined together sharing nothing but the path in front.
‘If I’m Marsha Evans I don’t think you should be dragging me,’ I said to Kayson, taking my elbow back.
This was it: I was going to see Jessica, and then get her the hell out of here. She would probably jump at the chance to escape.
‘Well walk faster – the security cameras can’t be allowed to pick you up,’ he snapped, and that’s when I clocked a camera to my left, mounted on a nearby tree.
I didn’t have time to look for any others as Kayson grabbed my hand and dragged me to one of the doors, near the back. There was grass at the side of the door, almost like a small garden. A fairly new tree stood tall, but what caught my eye was the small red birdhouse lodged on one of the branches.
Kayson’s pounding on the door turned my attention straight ahead: this was it. I was about to witness something no one on the outside had even glimpsed.
The door was mahogany like the main building, but it slipped open with ease. One of the girls from the café stood behind it; she was around five foot four with thin, dirty blonde hair, dull blue eyes, fair skin, a round face, and long lashes which honestly looked like they could lift her fragile figure off the ground.
‘Quinn, let us in,’ he said.
The girl didn’t even look surprised when she spotted me hiding behind Kayson – in fact she opened the door wide, a smile brimming on her face.
‘Quickly,’ she said, moving aside.
Kayson charged ahead while I shuffled behind slowly, gripping my bag tightly as the door closed behind me.
‘Hi.’ Her voice was small and timid as I slid the glasses off my face. I glanced back to the closed door: now I was in the lion’s den.
As the three of us stood in the hallway, I realised this place was better than my house: the wallpaper looked expensive, solid dark navy with gold accents, the ceilings pure white. To my left there were two rooms but both doors were closed, and to my right another two rooms – the one closest to me looked like a living room while the other was a kitchen. From what I could see the expensive taste continued throughout the house. Straight ahead was a set of stairs with a dark brown banister and carpet leading to a small landing, then continuing to the left with another set of stairs, but I couldn’t see where those led.
‘You brought Naomi?’ Quinn asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
‘Yeah, cause she fucking blackmailed me,’ Kayson spat. ‘Fucking bitch.’
I felt my nostrils flare and my eyes bulge at the remark – he did not just say that! Who the hell gave him the right?
‘I’m sorry?’ I asked.
‘Hey!’ a brash, thick voice called from the kitchen, followed by a patter of footsteps.
The girl I knew as Chan from the live video walked through, but this time I got a better view of her. She was much taller than I’d first thought, probably about five-eleven, with thick raven hair, brown eyes and warm tawny skin. She had a muscular build despite her narrow face, and her eyebrows were arched and pointed. A cheeky grin rested in her carved lips as she tugged down her red bralette.
‘What have we told you about using big grown up words?’ she asked, like she was talking to a child.
‘Lily, piss off,’ he sneered. ‘Where’s Jess?’
‘Where do you think? After last night’s fiasco she’s been called in for rehearsals.’
Lily didn’t see me for a couple of seconds but when she did, her grin fell and her stance became rigid. She took a couple of steps back but that didn’t stop me from seeing every fine detail on her face: the major dark circles under her eyes, greasy hair, and the flaky dryness around her lips. She looked like she hadn’t taken care of herself for weeks.
‘You’re fucking joking, get her out of here!’ she yelled, startling me.
‘What, you think I brought her here willingly? I’m not an idiot.’
‘You know what they’ll do – your team will be the one that goes down for this, not us!’ she shouted.
It frightened me how quickly Lily changed, just like Kayson.
‘Please, calm down,’ Quinn tried, holding out her hands, but her friend didn’t listen.
‘Calm down? Calm down? I’m not going to fucking calm down! There is a civilian here in broad daylight!’ Any courage that had grown within me was quickly squashed.
I’d only been here a minute or so but it was clear I was in a place I didn’t belong. There was something in Lily’s eyes that scared me though, something frantic, like she would shove me out into the cold without another thought.
Just then, one of the doors to the left was flung open and another girl walked out, dressed in jeans, a white top and long white sheer shirt with some fancy brand logo on the breast pocket, that complemented her olive skin. In contrast to Lily’s worn boots, she sported insanely high sapphire-coloured heels which clicked on the floor as she clipped on a pair of pearl earrings.
‘You know it’s hard to prep for an interview when everyone is yelling,’ she said, pulling out a gold cross necklace from her pocket – but she didn’t get a chance to put it on as her eyes met mine. Strands of her immaculate rich brown hair falling in front of her face. What stood out though was the copper ring on her finger, the blue intricate detailing of a human heart engraved into it’s centre.
‘Grace, don’t be mad.’ Quinn took a step towards her friend but Grace only raised a finger, a testing look in her eyes.
‘Since when was this part of the plan?’ she asked, turning to Kayson. ‘This wasn’t part of the plan.’
It seemed like everyone was well aware of what Jessica had asked Kayson to do, which made my shoulders cave: more than two people were in on this. It was humiliating. Jessica thought I needed babysitting and told everyone here about it.
Grace wasn’t shouting which surprised me considering these past few minutes had been nothing but a screaming match. Her tone was calmer but there was something underlying that told me she meant business.
‘Oh, I know it fucking wasn’t!’ Kayson shouted. ‘Why don’t you ask Little Miss Perfect over there why we’re here in the first place.’
Four heads turned my way and suddenly I felt incredibly small; the walls moving towards me and the ceiling bearing down. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea, maybe I shouldn’t have volunteered. I had no experience in the field, certainly not as a journalist. I hadn’t thought this through at all – I knew I would get into Reign, but after that I had no plan except to grab Jess and run.
Stares burned into my head but I didn’t dare look anyone in the eye.
SCRATCH
A sharp sting shot through my palm as my nail dug deeper, the pain distracti
ng me. I needed to think – needed to come up with some sort of plan that wasn’t just a grab and run.
‘Well?’ Grace asked, clearly irritated. ‘What are you doing here?’
The last time I saw Grace she’d seemed like the one in charge, the one that had to stick to a schedule, the one that liked to plan. Even now that hadn’t changed as she searched my eyes for an answer. I guess what Edward did last night had set everyone on edge.
‘I have –’
That’s when thundering footsteps barrelled down the stairs, and Jessica appeared.
She looked tired, her hair tied back – and then I saw the purple blotches on her neck, clear as day. Along with the dull brown bruise marking her cheek. Oh my God.
‘Can you all resolve this scream-fest by the time I get back?’
But when she saw me it was like her brain stopped, unable to process what was in front of her. ‘What in the holy fuck are you doing here?’
Quinn was overwrought with panic as she turned between us all.
‘I thought you’d already left.’
Jessica ignored her.
‘How did you get in?’
‘I brought her,’ Kayson admitted.
‘What?’
‘In a pickup car.’
‘In a – Kayson, you’ve fucking lost it!’
‘It’s her fault!’
As the yelling went on I glanced at Lily and Grace: they were throwing dagger-like glares at Kayson, but part of me feared they’d do the same to me. Judging from the last couple of minutes, none of them wanted me here.
‘There are microphones in the car! They could have been recording!’
‘They weren’t, I made sure of it!’
‘Oh and how did you do that?’ Jessica asked. ‘You can’t even change a lightbulb.’
Suddenly, everyone joined in: Lily started screaming profanities at Kayson while Grace yelled at Jess. What I didn’t expect was Quinn – the quietest and most timid-looking of all – to yell, her face all scrunched up.