Flight (15 page)

He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t still feel…this. Well?” he asks.

I’m silent. His eyes bore into mine, and everything I know about him flashes before me. Even though I know now what he is, I can’t explain it, but there is no one else I can think of. Only him.

“I can’t. Fuck, I can’t. But I don’t know if I can deal with this right now,” I reply. He brushes his thumb along my jaw-line, his gaze never wavering.

“So why did you come?”

“I need to know the truth. Since I came here things have been weird. There are all of these secrets, and Myra…”

Asher pulls away, a wry smile on his lips. “Ah, Myra Elder. The maestro of all things chaotic. Does she know, then?”

“She knows,” I reply, nodding.

“Look, all I can tell you right now is that your Corporation isn’t everything it seems to be,” he says, “you’ll find out in time how corrupt everything is. There are secrets beneath even this city that will never be shared, ones that will change the way you and I see each other. And Myra’s the one with the most to hide. I still don’t know what I think about that woman, but I wasn’t really given a choice in the matter. Once the parents say it’s a go, there’s no arguing,” he grumbles. God, he sounds so
human
.

“Why are you even here?” I ask, but he’s barely listening, lost in his own thoughts.

“But Myra trusts you, right?” he asks.

I nod again.

He hums in thought. “That could work to our advantage,” he says, looking me straight in the eye. His gaze is a question, and it seems like he’s asking
are you in, or are you out?

“What are you saying?” I ask, awkwardly fidgeting with my hair. He stands up, strolling back and forth in the small room, his eyes lighting up as he thinks.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t trust what’s going on here. My mother pretty much forced me to come here, away from Ehvelar, away from pretty much everything to come live in an underground dump with a bunch of humans and Hunters breathing down our necks. It’s not like I had any choice in the matter. I’ve always wanted to figure out why, but never had any way to get into the Corporation,” he says.

“Ehvelar?” I question.

“Harpy capital city,” he clarifies, “I know that something happened a year ago, but everyone is evasive about it when I ask, especially mother. But now that you’re here,” he says, turning toward me. I nod, understanding where he’s going.

“I can help you figure out what’s going on,” I say, finishing his sentence. It makes perfect sense, really. Myra’s motives are fairly clear, but why would the Harpy Royal Family want their Prince to live under the eyes of the Corp? There has to be something deeper going on.

“Exactly,” he says.

I stare at him for a moment, and I’m shocked again at how completely human he looks. From his shaggy dark hair to the permanent smirk of his lips you’d never tell the difference. Then I realize that even though I know he’s a Harpy, my mortal enemy, I still find him attractive, still crave the taste of his lips on mine, his body pressed against me. I have got some serious issues.

“I’m in,” I say, letting out a snort of laughter.

“What’s that about?” he asks.

“Just how completely ironic this situation is,” I reply.

“An Ace Hunter and the completely gorgeous Harpy Prince teaming up?” he says, laughing.

“You forgot egotistical,” I add.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought it. Anyway we need some rules before we set this plan into action. Rule one, this is the rendezvous point,” he says.

“Rule two, we don’t get caught.”

“Rule three, any and all information stays between you and I,” he continues. He walks up to me and we shake hands on it. He leans in and tries to kiss me, but I swerve away and scrunch my face at him.

“Not yet,” I whisper. The plan is in action, but he forgot to add rule number four:

Don’t you dare fall in love.

For the first time I truly open my eyes and look at the corkboards in my kitchen. Shelley’s still asleep, so I’m quiet as I peruse the detailed charts, documents and maps pinned across the walls. I’d always thought that Shelley’s resistance was a bit of a pet project, but now, seeing all of the work, the details, the sheer effort that’s gone into this, I’m impressed. I unpin a document hanging from the board and sit down at the kitchen table. The report outlines the financial expenditures of the Corp in Central over the last three months. A few items catch my eye; namely the large sum spent on
Genetic Research
and
Bioengineering
. I know about a lot of the Corp’s research through Sandy and other lab scientists I’ve worked with, but I’ve never heard a word about genetics, and I don’t even know what bioengineering is.

“Interested?” a voice sounds behind me. I whirl around to find Shelley in her pyjamas, her eyes still crusted from sleep. Her expression wanes from curiosity to suspicion.

“I didn’t know how much work you’ve been doing on this,” I reply. She reaches toward me, grabbing the document and scanning it briefly before pinning it back to the board. She ignores my compliment.

“Piper, you’ve been living with me for more than a year now and you’ve never so much as glanced at any of my work. Why now?” she asks, face stoic.

I shrug, wondering what she’s getting at. “I’m interested in what the Corp is really doing behind closed doors,” I say.

Shelley sighs deeply. “I want to trust you with this. You’re my best friend, but I know there’s a mole in the Corp, and rumor has it that it’s you. My question is, why would you work undercover for Rupert when you openly despise him?”

I’m thrown back by this, and don’t really know how to respond. I mean, initially I know that Rupert wanted me to infiltrate Ichton, but I’ve given him nothing, even after all I’ve discovered. And then another thought springs to mind: who would spread knowledge of me being a spy?

“I’m not the mole, Shelley. You know me, you know that I don’t care enough about Central or Rupert or the Corp to do that. Who tried to tell you this?” I ask finally.

She looks to the ground, the lines of her mouth pulled into a frown as she tries to find her words. “You’re not going to like it,” she says.

I run a hand through my hair in frustration. “Tell me,” I state again. She mutters something intelligible, so I ask her again.

“It was Tor, alright? He came to see me when I was in the design department. He inquired about your behaviour at home, said he sensed something strange about you. I kept it vague, but then he mentioned an infiltration from Central and asked me to notify him if I noticed anything, and here I find you looking at some of my stuff. What am I supposed to think?” she cries.

I check my annoyance for her as sharp realization settles in.

Tor is naming me as traitor. Tor, who is always on his phone taking private calls. Tor, who even Myra doesn’t trust anymore. Everything adds up; how Rupert knew about the scouting mission but not any details, how Tor has been trying to inch in closer to me even while keeping secrets from me.

“I think it’s backwards. I think Tor’s the spy,” I half-whisper. Shelley’s eyes widen, but after a moment it settles in and she nods along with me.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even thought you would do something like that,” she says.

I brush it off. “It’s hard to know who to trust these days. There aren’t many people left who don’t have double agendas, you and me included,” I wonder aloud.

Shelley seats herself at our kitchen table. “So what was it you were looking for?” she asks. I raise an eyebrow and she gestures towards the patchwork of rebellion on the walls. I plop myself across from her, wishing I could tell her everything; Asher and Darcy, Myra’s will to overtake the Corp, but I know that I can’t. Not yet.

“Clues, maybe, I don’t know. This place…it’s strange, don’t you think? The Corp’s different here, and I think it runs deeper than just a blood feud between Elders. Myra thinks about Harpies differently than anyone else. She even thinks about fighting differently. She spent some time in the Temples learning their ways and tries to teach her Hunters those skills. In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve killed one Harpy, and that’s a secret kill. I’ve gotten possibly zero information about the Harpy front even though I’m supposed to be on a task force to stop it. Something’s going on here, and I want to figure it out,” I say.

Shelley nods as she absorbs my words, and I have no doubt she’ll look into the scant information I’ve given her about the Corp, but I know she won’t ask anything further. She’d never ask me to risk being caught like that. She eyes me before speaking, like she’s still sizing me up.

“I think there’s something I have to tell you, about me and the resistance,” she says warily.

I nod, urging her to continue. She rubs her fingers along her temples, a few chocolate hairs falling stray from her hair band.

“This isn’t all me. I…well, I work for Myra, undercover. I started off as a lackey design worker, but it became clear to me soon after I started that things were different in Ichton. I snooped, found out too much, and eventually met Myra in person. It’s all kind of a blur how it happened, but she recruited me. I’m sorry I’ve never told you,” she says.

My mind should be spinning, but instead it all sort of fits into place. I pace the room as the details sort themselves out. “Who else is involved?” I ask.

“Sandy. Grier. Sully’s in on it but does mostly contract work. That’s about it for the Corp, but here in the underground, there are tons of people involved. There are even a few bases set up outside of the cities. This movement is getting larger faster than anyone has expected,” she replies.

I run my finger along a pile of the resistance stickers I’ve noticed plastered along the brick walls of the city streets.

“And the objective?” I know I don’t really need to ask this, because I can already guess, can feel it in my bones.

“Overthrow Rupert and reshape the world without Elder Corp’s rule over everything,” Shelley responds, voice soft as though someone could be eavesdropping on us. So Myra would take over and rebuild the world her way. Who knows what this could entail? Peace between the worlds, more treaties, maybe even more secrets; the possibilities really are endless. But somehow it all feels right.

“I want to be involved,” I say.

Shelley raises her eyebrows. “You’ve had a sudden loss of apathy?” she says. I turn my gaze to her head-on, and her expression returns to neutral. I grab a few things from the table; my key-card and for good measure a few of the underground stickers.

“It was never that I didn’t care. Now I just have somewhere to funnel everything from my past. What’s the name of this thing, anyway?” I inquire.

“Valhalla,” she whispers.
The
Valhalla, and it’s been in my kitchen the entire time.

“That’s perfect.”

Shelley remains silent as I strut out the door, but even without looking back I know that a smile is perched on her lips.

I decide to pay Sandy a visit first. From the moment I heard his name as part of the resistance, I knew that he wasn’t just a member; he’s got to play a big part. My trip to his office in the building is thankfully quiet and without interruption. It’s like a bomb hit me and everything’s different now. Every Corp personnel I pass I survey more closely, looking for any sign that they might be underground, or infiltration from Central. Nobody’s trustworthy anymore.

When I reach Sandy’s office the door is closed with blinds shut. At first I think he might be sleeping, as his tech-based activities keep him going all hours of the night, but then I hear noises from inside. Figuring he must be running a simulation, I push open the door. I poke my head inside, then immediately duck out and slam the door shut. The image I’ve just seen is burned into my mind; Sandy and a girl on top of one of the long desks, both with sweaty, naked skin. My face is hot with embarrassment as I hear some rustling from inside. I’m just about to run off when the door cracks open. Sandy pokes his head out, wearing only a hastily thrown-on t-shirt and boxer shorts.

“Piper?” he says.

I wave. Awkwardly. “I am so sorry,” I say, “I completely should have knocked, I just didn’t know you had a thing, and I wanted to talk—”

“It’s okay. I probably should have locked the door,” he replies, running a hand through his cropped blond hair, laughing.

I release a sigh of relief at his smile. “So, uh, who is she?” I ask, giving him a wink.

“Umm,” he begins, turning his gaze to the ground.

“Sandy! What the hell? Who’s out there?” calls the mystery girl. I want to gasp comically but can only giggle uncontrollably. I’d know that voice anywhere.

“Grier?” I whisper at Sandy. He pops his head back into the room.

“It’s Piper,” he says to her. She shrieks loudly, rushing to the door.

“You do
not
tell anybody about this!” she says, a bed sheet wrapped tightly around her body.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I say, trying hard not to laugh. Grier’s eyes are still wide with humiliation as she tries to collect herself.

“Myra mentioned she wanted to see you, by the way. If she asks where I am, can you tell her I’m indisposed or something?” she says.

“Alright. I’ll come find you later, Sandy, when you have clothes on,” I joke. Sandy rolls his eyes at me and shuts the door.

The lavender awning of my favorite cafe is comforting and distressing at the same time. I used to come here to relax and forget about my past and my present, but now it also rekindles the severity of the situation at hand. Sandy and Grier are already seated at a circular table clothed in flowery linen. Sandy smiles awkwardly as I join them, while Grier’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment from our earlier encounter. Instead of lulling in silence, I speak up first.

“Let’s get everything out in the open. Whatever is going on between you two is your business, so don’t worry about me. It’ll be like it never happened,” I say. Grier purses her lips, but relief floods her eyes. Sandy’s quick to change the topic.

“So you wanted to talk. I know you well enough to know that this is business. What’s on your mind?” he asks.

I lean in, scanning the cafe quickly before whispering, “Valhalla.” Both of their eyes widen in a mixture of shock, and perhaps a little fear. After all, they don’t know whether I’m on their side—for all I know they could believe I’m the mole.

Sandy peers around before speaking in a rushed, hushed tone. “There are eyes and ears everywhere, so let’s keep this discreet. What’s your stance?” he asks.

“I want in,” I reply. Grier remains quiet as Sandy inhales sharply. Anyone else might think she’s just a quiet person, but I know that her eyes are sharp, checking out every movement for a betrayal or attack.

“Why?” Sandy asks shortly.

What can I say, now? To help out the Harpy Prince? Because I don’t trust anything anymore? But my answer comes naturally. “I want Rupert gone. I want to see a change in this world. Maybe I didn’t notice anything before, but since I’ve been here, since David, it’s obvious to me that the Elder Corporation has too many secrets, too many lies. I’m done being a dog, and I’m done ignoring the problem. I want to help,” I say. Sandy is silent for a moment, and my heart beats wildly as I wait for his reply. Then he grins wildly and Grier sighs.