Innocence (12 page)

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Awakening, A Novel of Olympus

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“Who’s there?” Cora jerked away from the balcony ledge and peered into the shadows beyond the French doors. She wasn’t afraid, only startled. She could hear loud laughter and talking drift up from the party downstairs. If she screamed someone would hear her.

The young man approaching her looked familiar. Cora’s eyes widened as she recognized the famous singer. “Chris? What are you doing here?”

At his name, the Orphan came forward quickly. He wore his usual outfit, well fitted jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His clothes looked more rumpled than usual, but his presence still held that hypnotic aura she remembered.

Then he spoke, panic in his voice. “They’ve taken her.”

Cora stepped close, stopped. The young man’s eyes were wild. “What? Who’s been taken?”

“Iris. My fiancé.” The Orphan ran a hand through his curls, a move she recognized from his performance onstage. Now it conveyed more worry than rock god charisma. “She left—she was only supposed to be gone a few hours. It’s been two days. I don’t know where she is.”

Cora clutched her wrap around her more tightly. Her party dress, though fashionable, wasn’t designed to keep out the night chill. Here on the balcony, the city at their feet, the wind reached them more easily. “Did she call or leave a message or anything?”

“No,” he rasped miserably. “She’s gone. Please, you have to believe me.”

“I believe you,” Cora said automatically. The singer’s soulful gaze, beloved by so many women, implored her to. “Did you go to the police?”

The Orphan shook his head. “They won’t let me.”

“Who’s they?” Cora asked, even though she knew. AJ, the creepy producer. Maybe even Thane and Hype, the club manager’s at Elysium.             

“My manager says it’s not safe for me to leave the hotel.” The Orphan was explaining. “They won’t even let me alone. I had a concert last night, and three this weekend. I have a contract to fulfill, they say. They won’t let me out.” He gazed at her, his hypnotic aura holding her spellbound. “We were going to elope. They say she probably got cold feet, and that’s why she left.”

Realization struck Cora, and she jerked backwards. “You think they found out you wanted to leave, and they took her. They’re holding her hostage.”

The singer doubled over almost like he was in pain. “It’s my fault.” he moaned. He stumbled backwards until he hit the wall of the building. The sounds of the party below almost washed his words away.

Cora crouched down to where he cowered in the shadows. “Ok, it’s ok.”

“You’re the only one I can talk to. No one else will listen.”  The singer whispered brokenly. “Please, you have to help her. Before it’s too late.”

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