Page 55 of We Are the Match
“I—”
“Will have me killed, yes,” I repeat. I lean closer, my lips near her jaw as if I am about to kiss her. She stares at me, waiting, but makes no move—and if she will not make a move or eventellme what she fucking wants, then she can keep waiting for it, too.
Either way, watching Helen breathlessly stare at my lips is better than seeing the grief on her face when we talk about Lena. I could tell her. Show her, even. Let the truth slip past my lips—but that would change everything. She could tell Zarek, ruin the horrific surprise I have planned for him. She could even run to her mother’s side, disrupting everything I’ve worked for.
I jump to my feet, snatching my jacket—something I will think twice about grabbing every time now, after what Hana said—and nod at her. “And to answer your question, bomb-makers used to use her space, and some of the islands adjacent, to gather materials and test them.”
Thea dabbled, back in the day.
And Cass was learning, under some unnamed benefactor, when she was still a teenager. Unnamed, but we all knew who.
Cass would return to us with ash on her hands and a wild light in her green eyes, until the day she didn’t. Until the day it all ended and the last I saw of her was her eyes, wide and staring as the ceiling collapsed in on top of her.
Helen nods, pulls her phone from her pocket. “Frona’s it is, then,” she says.
Tommy takes us Saturday night, in a large, stable catamaran that knifes through the cold water of the bay until we reach open waters, the turbulent waves comforting.
It takes two hours to reach Frona’s, though Tommy goes fast.
When we dock the boat, the floating city is alive, music spilling from cantinas, people dancing in the corridors of the small city. There is sex and dancing and drinking, and any other day, any other lifetime, I would take the hand of the first beautiful person I saw and fall into all this pleasure.
But tonight the atmosphere feels discordant and harsh, in sharp contrast to the violence I am trying to survive and the violence I am trying to perpetrate.
Frona is waiting for us in the dark. The first vessel in her city of boats is smaller, quieter than the rest, and it is empty except for her. The lights are not on, so we have only the dim glow from the lanterns outside, and there is no sound for a long minute besides the cry of seabirds and the slap of waves.
Frona is tall, willowy where Helen is curved, and if she were not standing beside Helen I would think of her as beautiful.
From the queen.
Was it this woman before us, pacing at the edge of the boat, her golden hair swept up to reveal smooth white shoulders? Does she fancy herself queen enough to vie for power against Zarek?
She is goddess of secrets and sex, and both are obvious in the tilt of her chin and set of her lips. She is beautiful, but never in a way that could have rivaled Helen’s.
“Helen, darling,” she says coldly, and then leans in to kiss Helen on both cheeks. “How can I help you?”
“Thank you for having us,” Helen says. “This is my ... well, you know Paris is investigating a matter for me.”
I nod to Frona, who nods in return.
“Tonight, of course, we’re not here on official business,” Helen continues. The blush that follows her words helps with the cover story: we are here for the same reason every other guest is.
Here at this oasis just for our own pleasure, paying in secrets.
“Oh?” Frona tilts her head. “You know the game, darling.Youhave a standing invite, of course.” She nods her deference at Helen. “But this one—” Her gaze falls on me. “Owes me a secret.”
Helen raises her hand, opens her mouth to speak.
But I step forward, lean close to Frona’s ear and whisper—
“I had Helen tied to my bed just two days ago.”
Her eyes widen, a glimmer there that was not present before.
“And?” she asks.
“And I’ll tell you the rest when I visit next,” I tell her, meeting her eyes as I shift back a little. “Perhaps I will even tell you what I am willing to do to keep her at my side.”
She smiles slightly. “Many have said the same, Paris,” she says, but she dips her head. “Enjoy your stay.”
