Page 32 of Caged By the Ruthless Thief

“You don’t know about Vividaria?” Her mouth hangs open, just like the little pink and blue fish back at my coral reef at Glyden. She all but sparkles compared to Eros, who is dressed all in black with a matching scowl.

“I don’t know all about it. Why don’t you tell me?” I pat the sofa next to the closed blinds. The thudding of Mickey on the other side of the shuttered windows stops.

“Ah, sure. But what was that?”

“Oh, that’s nothing. It’s stopped. Come, tell me all about this ball.” I don’t remember Marina from Ophelia’s ball before I left.

“Oh, there are dozens of them that happen all on the same night. And people try to make it to as many as possible. Last year I went to four. But my friend Betonia, she made it to seven and now she has three mates. Three! We went to school together, and I have none.” She turns and glares at Eros, like her love life is his fault.

I just listen. I didn’t get that far into the cultural course. Really, I was focused on the docking ceremony and all the things I would have to know to not get killed.

Marina turns back to me, clasping her hands together. “You’ll have to go to the ball. You and all your mates.”

Eros stares at the two of us with a look I can only describe as bewildered horror.

17

NICO

When I wake up, I hear Dad’s voice. It’s low. Holter’s too. Castor is talking, but not to them. It’s a lot. I’m not sure I want to open my eyes.

Slowly, I gather my wits. I make a wish, hoping to all hopes that when I open my eyes, a certain blonde will be there to make everyone shut the hell up. That she’ll crawl in next to me and gingerly kiss each of my wounds. Having her close would help heal more than my injuries.

Holter clears his throat. “You’re awake. You can stop pretending and open your eyes.”

“Annabelle.” My voice cracks as I say it.

“She’s in Boston. But we’re going to get her back.”

“Idiots,” says Dad. I can’t see him because the bandages on my neck prevent me from turning my head.

He’s not wrong. Dad. Fuck, it was the right thing at the time. At least, that’s what I thought. Fucking stupid. How is she going to manage without us? It takes me a moment. I’m still pondering it.

“Are you comfortable—” says a voice I don’t recognize.

“Fuck off, I’m thinking.” It comes out as gravel. The gears in my brain are seizing up, and all I can think of is Annabelle. But then I can’t think at all.

* * *

I’m awake again.This time, there’s a nurse changing one of my bandages. The room is empty. Pain sears through my neck. I flinch and find I’m strapped to the bed. Fuck. Did I sleepwalk? My eyes fly open. The nurse hovering over me winces. I strain against the straps reflexively.

“Son, you’re fine. The nurse here is changing your bandages.”

I flick my eyes to Dad. He’s trying to stand.

“Alder, you need to stay in bed,” the young nurse says.

“I’m sick of bed.”

“Thank you for helping me.” I try to look... I don’t know...less fierce. Is that a thing? I can only imagine what I look like. Half of my body is covered in hydro-seal spray-on bandages.

“You’re welcome.” He doesn’t look at me, though.

When he leaves the room, I turn to Dad. “I had an episode?”

“Damn right you did. Scared the shit out of all the nurses.”

“Did I hurt anyone?”

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