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“Yeah, I know but—” I stop myself, my chest tightening.
Alex’s eyes squint in my direction. “What? That’s not fair, or something?”
“She’s a complainer, is all,” I mumble, focusing back on my food.
He nods and eats silently for a moment. “She hasn’t had anything to complain about yet,” he warns.
I recognize a few of the adherents from our lovely hearing the other day sitting at ornate tables and enjoying their breakfasts. They’re all laughing and talking without a care in the world like some bitches at brunch.
While I’m dressed in a red jumpsuit, they’re decked out in robes with their hair coiffed and large necklaces adorned with the AOE symbol hanging around their necks. There are no females in this room besides the servers and a few others in jumpsuits that follow an adherent around. A few security officers stand at the exits while other women like me fill cups and serve fruit.
Fucking fruit.
My family eats cardboard bars of nothing while this asshole dines on pineapple. I can’t even imagine how they managed to find or grow a pineapple down here.
“Where’s Lori?” I whisper into Alex’s ear.
He glares at me and shakes his head. He warned me not to speak unless spoken to, but I can’t help myself. He takes my elbow and stands slightly in front of me, putting me behind his back at every opportunity. It’s futile because there’s no hiding the women in red that stand out amongst the crowd.
The room stills, quiet at the chime of a clock. My heart thuds in my ears while I cower behind Alex and wait.
Everyone turns to where a security guard holds a door open. When the Eminent crests the entryway, his people stand and bow. He doesn’t notice or can’t be bothered, talking to a woman at his side.
Alex’s grip on my elbow tightens, making my arm throb, and when I see her eyes flicker to his, I know who escorts the Eminent.
“Disciple Alexander Morgan,” the Eminent calls out as if they’re old friends. “Come join us, will you?”
Alex looks back at me, and the room’s eyes shift between the Eminent and us in confusion. Alex is working, and this guy just asked him to sit down and have some tropical fruit while he fingers Alex’s wife under the table.
“And bring your woman,” the Eminent says. “She’s skin and bone. Are you feeding your little rat?”
I expect Alex’s wife to sneer at me, but her expression is kind and full of apologies. Her hair flows at her shoulders, and her cheeks flush with the Eminent’s words. She’s strong beneath the surface, unlike the other women I’ve seen here.
It’s her gait, the way she holds herself when she walks next to the most feared man amongst thousands. I stare at her dark eyes that find mine, and I can’t help but feel drawn to her.
She looks like me.
It’s more than a resemblance, it’s like staring at a mirror. We’re the same height, weight, age, and coloring. She tilts her chin up like I do when I’m faking my resolve. She squares her shoulders when she knows something difficult is coming around the corner.
It’s uncanny, and I understand all of Alex’s perplexed stares and why he may have saved me weeks ago. This is partly why the Eminent didn’t kill Alex or me.
The sight of me… It’s torture to Alex.
The most amusing game for a sociopath dropped at his feet and now I’m playing along.
Staying behind Alex’s back, he pulls me along until we reach the table and he offers me a chair. The large room fills with chatter again, women in red jumpsuits scurrying around the tables, filling plates and cups.
“Alexander,” the Eminent smiles. “How was your night? As exciting as mine?”
“I had a good rest,” Alex offers. He struggles to speak each word, fighting for control, but it’s enough to appease the Eminent. His heel taps on the floor, and I touch the top of his knee to still the motion.
A scoop of pineapple hits my plate and begs me to eat it even though I’m full of tasteless oats. My mouth waters, and I pick up my fork and relent.
“And my lovely rodent, Rowan,” the Eminent teases me. His hand sits on Alex’s wife’s shoulder, and he slides it across her collarbone, dipping it underneath the fabric of her shirt. She allows it, and I can tell she’s used to this invasion. Her body isn’t hers anymore.
I clutch Alex’s knee under the table and squeeze. He’s white-knuckling the silverware, but that’s his only tell.
“I slept well,” I reply and shove another chunk of pineapple into my mouth, the juices running down my chin. I almost moan at the delicious taste that covers my tongue.
