Under My Skin (11 page)

While Desdemona recounted her tale, I gripped the blankets. The General chuckled the whole time.

“What happened to her?” I asked. “Did that woman take over her body?”

“Yes. For each of my assignments, it always ends the same way. They invade your body, and your mind disappears forever.”

A few hours later, all I could think about was one thing: a hundred feet separated me from the comm-console in General Dagon’s office. I had to get help and find a way out of here, but with my healing wound and weakened limbs, the distance seemed too far away.

An opportunity arose when Des changed my bandages on my back after dinner and Captain Belfry left the room. Thankfully, that monster didn’t return after Des left.

Time to try something.

The trip to the wheelchair was exhausting. I rolled out of bed and flopped onto the floor. My chin hit the ground pretty hard, but not hard enough for me to cry out. No matter how badly things hurt—I had a chance and I needed to act. I stared straight ahead and tried to cling to hope. The General was sleeping now, but soon he’d awaken and I’d have no choice but to figure out how to make sure I’d be the last one standing. I crawled across the floor and lumbered into the wheelchair. By the time I had the footrest in place, I prayed no one would walk into the bedroom.

I had a chance to try to get to the console. As to what information I’d learn on the console, I was afraid to know. As I pushed myself across the room, my primary goal was to contact my parents and tell them I was being held here. But what good would that do? Even if I contacted them, what purpose would that serve? They couldn’t bust down the doors and free me. Could they demand to take me home with General Dagon stuck in my head?

I listened at the doors to the suite and waited. With my ear pressed against the door, I couldn’t hear anything. Hopefully no guards. I held my breath and grabbed the knob. Without a sound, I turned it. The hallway was dark and still. I expected to see Captain Belfry or Rebecca standing there with her arms crossed—an angry expression across her face. But no one waited for me.

I pushed the wheels and propelled myself forward. Every foot got me closer to the office. I steeled myself inside and focused on a new goal. I had to reach that console so I could get on the network and find out what happened to Zoe. Was she close by? Could I contact her to find out if she was okay? Maybe I could at least contact my parents and send them a final message. A proper goodbye before... I pushed myself faster. It was counterproductive to think about what might happen.

No one appeared as I traversed down the long hallway. The drapes closed off even the twilight from shining inside. The only light came from hovering sconces. I approached the first open door and panicked. Would someone be waiting past that open door? The dim light and silence filled me with confidence, but after everything I’d been through, I didn’t trust this place. It was better to assume someone might be there, and I needed an excuse. Maybe I should say I was hungry and looking for food. I crept past the doorway and looked inside. The dining hall was empty. The only movement was the flickering lights as they bounced. No one guarded the other rooms. Where were all those servants I’d seen earlier today? I reached the door to the General’s office and smiled. My arms burned from the exertion, but soon my hard work would be rewarded.

The door was locked. Right beside the door, there was a bar code scanner for entry. A part of me wanted to turn back and give up, since I didn’t have access to this room. Or did I?

Des had told me the bar code on my wrist was mine, but now that their lies had been exposed, I wondered if that meant this new bar code belonged to the General. It was only natural they’d brand me with his identity now that they’ve pushed him into my head.

I reached up and waved my wrist over the scanner beside the door. After a soft click, the door opened. The sounds of footsteps drew my attention to the darkness far down the hallway. I had to be quick. I wheeled myself into the room and shut the door.

The office was pitch black, except for one corner where someone had left the drapes open. The darkness closed in and crept around my throat, so I wheeled over toward the window. The glow of twilight brought a faint light into the room. I reached for the window and touched the chilled glass. Outside this window was freedom from my prison. Well, at least the house. For a second, I did think about breaking the glass and escaping. I was on the ground floor. Beyond the window was grass with a heavy layer of frost. The early spring hadn’t come here yet. Even farther, past the wintry lawn and an imposing wall, were snow-capped mountains that glared back at me and reminded me that I was only a simple girl. I wouldn’t survive if I left this place alone with no food or proper clothing.

Looking out the window was a waste of time, so I approached the desk. The communications console was a standard issue unit with a few advanced features. Another bar code scan would be required to activate it. With one swipe, I’d have access. I ran my wrist over the scanner and waited for the screen to pop up. The viewer flickered from black to gray and then finally white.

A nagging feeling pestered me, telling me my time was running out and I needed to move faster. I’d dawdled too long at the window. A set of footsteps outside the door confirmed my suspicions. Someone tried the doorknob and it didn’t open. I sighed with relief. The General’s bar code helped me a little tonight.

My gaze darted to the screen with hopes of seeing the network logo and the fields necessary to begin navigating, or a search screen—anything other than what I saw: a form asking me for General Dagon’s passphrase.

I heard a beep near the door and my insides melted as it opened. Rebecca strode in. The dim light from the hallway surrounded her silhouette and gave her an ominous appearance.

My lips formed a hard line and I stiffened my back. Let her reprimand me. What difference would it make?

“Is that you, Master? Do you have the passphrase for me?”

My silence was her answer.

Rebecca took me back to the master suite. Captain Belfry was waiting for us. All I could do was avoid his gaze. If I looked at him, I know I’d glare right back, so I looked elsewhere.

The Master’s assistant didn’t say anything until she pulled a personal comm-unit from her pocket. “Bring Cecelia. It’s time to have her in place. We can’t have the guards in here twenty-four hours a day.”

I remained in the wheelchair and stared at my clenched hands. So what did they plan to do to me now? Rebecca took her seat across from the General’s bed and faced me. I expected her to lecture me about what I’d done. All she did was sit there with a face like granite.

I finally found my voice. “You just can’t do this to people without letting them reach out to their family.” I licked my dry lips. “This isn’t fair—”

“Life isn’t fair, Ms. Sullivan.” Her biting words interrupted mine. “I am but a pawn in this chess game that you’ve already lost. Get used to it and things will be a lot less painful.”

A single tear wet my cheek. I wanted to complain and cry, but what good would that do with someone like her, who was a liar and had no heart?

The doors to the suite opened and an older girl entered the room. I’d seen her before. At the initiation. This was the girl who had pushed the General’s wheelchair. She crossed the room with confident strides. Her Water Bearer uniform was perfectly pressed.

“How may I be of service, Miss Rebecca?” Her black hair was pulled back so tight I thought her eyes bugged out from her head, but she just had large eyes.

“Cecelia, it’s time for you to assume your role as the Second Water Bearer now.”

She nodded.

“You are to follow her everywhere, as the Master would expect. This girl’s unpredictable and there’ll be dire consequences if she gets hurt. Especially if it leaves the Master in a bind to find another body. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cecelia strode over to my wheelchair and stood behind it.

Sadness turned to anger in a flash. So Rebecca had given me a leash? “So what is a Second Water Bearer, if I may ask?”

Rebecca laughed softly. “I shouldn’t have to spell it out, but perhaps I should do this one thing for you.” She walked toward the door. “You are the new vessel. Cecelia is the insurance policy in case you—break. Right now, she is also a guarantee that you’ll stay out of trouble.”

Cecelia remained in my room overnight and slept on the couch. Captain Belfry left before we went to bed. I hardly slept, constantly thinking about how the Captain could come for me. Even with Cecelia in the room, I still found it hard to feel safe.

When Des came the next morning to check on me, she brought two trays of food on the cart. She had an assistant with her who was hesitant to offer the meal. After two tentative footsteps, the other woman, a blonde with a generous bust line, kept her gaze on the tray.

Was it my face or the prospect of speaking with the General that frightened her?

“The Master’s not awake right now, Penelope,” Des said with reassurance. “Go ahead and work.”

Penelope set about her work and placed the tray on my lap. She did the same for Cecelia.

As Des checked my back, I asked her an obvious question. “How do you know when he’s sleeping?”

She paused for a moment and chuckled. “You’re not difficult to read, girl. There’s one thing I do know. The General was never as pensive as you are.” She finished applying a fresh dressing and checked my vitals. “I’m glad you’re still tinkering around in there. You have a visitor coming today, and I expect you to be much more cooperative than he would be.”

I made an annoyed face. “Who’d want to come see me? Do they know that…I’m here now?”

Des appeared as if she considered her next words before she spoke them. “The Master is still a high-ranking officer in the military. His men visit on occasion to discuss business. As to what business his visitor is here to conduct is no affair of mine.”

Des took the cover off the tray and gestured toward the food. When I didn’t move, she turned to Penelope. “Get her bath and clothes ready. Miss Rebecca expects her to be in the sitting room by noon.”

Breakfast ended as quickly as it had begun. Cecelia either played the piano, sat around, or helped Des whenever she asked for assistance. Since I was the one who was expecting company, I had to bathe, get my hair done, and get dressed.

The master suite had a huge closet. The moment Des wheeled me inside, I expected to see nothing but men’s clothing. My mouth dropped at the sight. What I didn’t expect was a room half the size of the suite with women’s and men’s clothing of every shape and size. In one corner to my left, row after row of glamorous shoes had been arranged. In another corner to my right, black dress suits hung on hangers, freshly pressed and ready to be worn. It was almost as if he anticipated a new body, and accordingly, kept dresses or pants for that person.

This had to be the craziest thing I’d seen yet.

No one spoke to me while Des selected a dress. Penelope hovered behind her.

“The hem of this dress is way too long,” Des complained after she put it on me. “Get Hilda on your personal-comm, Penelope. I’ve got forty-five minutes to make this dress perfect.” As my personal nurse, Desdemona took on many roles in this household. Rebecca would probably walk in any minute now with her critical eye, but Des handled things.

The house seamstress arrived, and she raised the hem of my dress. The dark red gown was made from a smooth material, most likely silk, definitely expensive from the embellishments on the bodice. I barely had a chest to fill it, but it was pretty to look at nonetheless. At that moment, I wondered what Zoe was doing. Was she suffering right now? Or perhaps, she’d gotten lucky and the people associated with Claire had rescued her. Not likely, but positive thinking and planning was all I had left.

As Penelope fussed with my hair, I asked another question which bugged me the minute I put on the dress. “Why would the General pick me if he’d have to live out his life as a woman? Wouldn’t it be weird for a girl to show up instead of a man?” He’d also have to contend with the things girls dealt with and not boys. Breasts, mood swings, and monthly cycles.

Penelope and Des exchanged quick glances before Des answered me. “That’s not a question I can answer, Tate. Nor should you try to answer it.”

Cecelia pushed me out of the room. Captain Belfry was waiting outside of the door. I anticipated his resentment, but hadn’t expected his gaze to trail from the top of my head down to my ankles. His gaze lingered momentarily on my face. His expression was hard to read, neither malevolent nor interested. He just took me in for longer than I wanted. “General Dagon’s guest is waiting in the sitting room,” he said.

He led us through the hallways to the grand sitting room. Someone had left a tea service and cake. Across the coffee table from the steaming tea sat two people on the sofa: Rebecca and a young man I’d never seen before.

His face was pale and blank. With such boyish features, I guessed he had to be no more than a few years older than me. Once we exchanged glances, the young man nodded my way. “It’s good to see you again, sir.”

When I didn’t answer, he smirked at Rebecca. “You’re right. She is a most unusual choice. But then again, General Dagon isn’t like the others.”

Captain Belfry took a spot near the door while Cecelia came around from the back of the wheelchair and offered her hand so I could sit down on the couch across from them.

My legs wobbled a bit, but they held me and I managed to reach the sofa. I tried my best to arrange my dress in a flattering way, but the folds of fabric refused to play nice.

“Some tea?” Rebecca glanced my way. She hadn’t addressed me as the General or used my name. I shook my head.

The way the young man across from me kept staring at me was disarming. Using the first response my mom taught me—to smile—seemed appropriate, but I just couldn’t do it. Instead, my hand snuck up and covered my scar. “It’s not polite to stare,” I said.

Rebecca smiled that cold smile of hers and sipped her tea. “If I remember right, Alphonse, you took over your second host in a matter of days, did you not?”