Page 85 of The Crimson Lily
“I made sure it was always on,” I disclose with a goodbye smile. I know he knows what I mean. He’ll figure it out. Maksim is smart.
I walk to William, coming within arm’s length of that repulsive man. His presence feels familiar. I haven’t come this close to him since the time he tried to kill me.
“Your hair is still the same,” he remarks.
“So is yours.” I flick my chin at his red mane.
William motions for the third man’s attention and clicks his fingers. He heads back for the car. I know something’s going to happen to me. Within seconds, the man has wrapped an arm around me and holds a piece of alcohol-scented cloth to my nose. My mouth is still open, and I taste something sweet, as if the cloth is made of caramel shards. I can hear Giovanni’s voice behind me loudly uttering something, but I can’t make out what it is. The world stops spinning. Time stops ticking. My consciousness slowly slips away. As I close my eyes, I catch a last flash of William’s grin, and everything goes black.
21
The doves must have been at it for hours for their incessant cooing to dive into my dreams. The light of the sun slips through my eyelids, luring my consciousness back to life. I open my eyes slowly and blink a few times to make sure I’m awake. I’m in a warm bed of sheets whiter than snow. The ceiling is low, supported by thick, dark wooden beams. The window by the bed looks out on to green grass and the heavy trunks of tall trees. The ivory curtains are open, and I am alone in this quiet room. Only the doves outside make a sound.
Is this heaven?
I raise my upper body and scan more of my surroundings: There’s a colorful turquoise carpet sprawled on the floor, a ceiling fan I haven’t yet noticed, an oak closet, and a lighter-colored sideboard with a large mirror hovering above it. I was put into a long white nightgown that gives me the look of an innocent angel with my wavy blond hair. Who the hell got me changed? And where the hell are my belongings? I want to stand up to search for my clothes, but the door at the edge of the room opens.
William walks in, accompanied by a woman—a nun?—who wears a black robe and a white wimple. She carries a silver traywith a cup of what smells like coffee and a plate that announces a shiny butter croissant. She balances it on the small nightstand beside the bed and leaves in a hurry, looking down when William thanks her in Italian. Only now do I notice that he has a voluptuous piece of clothing hanging on his arm. As for the rest, he is all blue suit and brown leather shoes.
“Did you have a good night of sleep?” he asks with a cheer.
“Where am I?” I instantly counter.
He ignores my question. Instead, he sits beside me. William lays the clothing piece, a dark-red dress with long sleeves, between him and me.
“I thought crimson would be a good fit for you,” he grooms. “The rest of your clothes and shoes have been washed and are in the bathroom.” He points at a wooden door in the white wall. “Have some breakfast and get ready.”
His red, pointy mustache makes me want to slap him. I can see my reflection in his eyes, too much like mine. Thede Loit blue. I remember now how people referred to that glacial color. The red curls springing to the side of his jaw give him the noble allure of a duke or…a baron.
“Where am I, William?” I press.
He hushes me with a finger raised at the ceiling.
“The dress is for this evening,” he declares.
“What’s this evening?”
William grins, his shiny teeth showing. “Well, Lili, a lord is coming over tonight, so you’d better look presentable.” He picks up the tray from the nightstand and places it beside me. “Welcome back, little cousin, time to get dressed now.”
I would puke if I had anything left in my stomach. I scowl at him while he rises to his feet and walks away. After he closes the door, I march out of bed, seize the croissant, open the window, and throw it at the pigeons outside. I quickly check for a way out, an escape, but the garden is full of trees, and I’m in the middle ofnowhere. When I’m sure he’s gone, I race to the bathroom, lock it, and search myself.
I crouch down on the marble floor and make contact with the plastic object still hidden beneath my skin. I lock eyes with myself in the mirror and judge my reflection. A curious monkey, that’s what I look like with my legs spread as such, and my arms curved, but at least the tracker is still there. I remove it. I want this thing out of me.
In front of me, in the middle of the bathroom sink, is the GPS tracker I smuggled here. I won’t give them the chance to find it, and just in case that Syndicate lord or whoever’s coming has magic x-ray snake eyes, I flush it down the toilet. If there was a location to be polled, Maksim already fetched it long ago.
I take off that ugly grandma nightgown and jump straight into the shower. I need to get the prints of whoever changed me off my body.
Maksim, please come find me. I’m still alive. Please come get me.
I have no idea where I am, but I’m sure Maksim does by now. I’m sure he’s doing everything to plan my rescue. I have to be sure. I have to believe the device still worked from where it was. Why wouldn’t it?
The water isn’t getting any warmer, so I settle with room temperature. The drops drizzle down my back, which feels numb and sore. My shoulders are hard as a rock.
I dry my hair with a towel and put on black jeans and my white sweater, which is too large for me. They have indeed been washed and smell of lavender, like fancy baby oil. Despite the circumstances, the scent falls on me like a relaxing wave.
Once I’m ready, I head for the door, then the next, and find myself in a long corridor extending left and right of me. Women—nuns—are walking back and forth without looking at me.
William appears out of the corner of my eye, motioning for me to join him. He holds a tiny silver necklace in his palm. “I think this is yours,” he says as I get closer and hands it to me.
