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With his eyes glued on mine, Blaise rises to his feet and ambles across the bar. When he nears us, he stuffs his hand inside the front of his open trench coat and withdraws a gun. He doesn't aim it at me, just simply holds it. But the fact that he would consider using it on me wounds my soul.
This isn't my Blaise, yet he looks exactly like him.
"What do you want?" he asks Fredrick as he stops just short of us.
"I want to know if you recognize this girl," Fredrick answers, using the end of the barrel to shove my face in Blaise's direction.
Blaise scrutinizes me with a neutral expression. "I don't think so."
"Are you sure?" Zander chimes in. "Perhaps she's from your old home."
Blaise notes my bare feet, grey shorts, and black tank top, then shakes his head. "No, I definitely don't think so."
"Well, then I guess it's settled." A smile spans across Fredrick's face. "Take her to the dungeons."
Dungeons?
It takes me a moment to connect the word with an image, and when I do, any ounce of calmness inside me evaporates.
"No, please don't." I shake my head, backing away from him. "I can't--"
Fredrick snatches ahold of my arm and wrenches me back toward him. "No one asked for your opinion." With a rough jerk, he flings me toward a set of swinging doors. "Now get your ass back there before I change my mind and decide to just shoot you."
My bare feet scuff against the floor as I stumble toward Blaise. He dodges out of the way before I bump into him and lets me fall to the floor where I land on my hands and knees, the wood scraping my bare skin. Tears fill my eyes as humiliation douses over me.
This isn't the first time I've been treated like this. These men ... They're no better than the Grim.
Fredrick nudges me in the side with the toe of his boot. "Get up."
Sucking in an exhale, I push to my feet and sweep my hair out of my face. Then I limp toward the doors.
"I'll take her there," Zander offers.
Fredrick pokes me in the back with the gun, and I stiffen. "I can handle her."
"Yeah, but ..." Zander pauses. "Don't you have that meeting to get to?"
Fredrick wavers, coming to a stop. "I do, but--"
"But nothing," Zander cuts him off eagerly. "You can't miss it. You're in charge of it, for crying out loud."
Silence stretches between the men, making my gasping breaths embarrassingly evident.
Then the heels of his boots click against the floor as Fredrick walks around in front of me. "If you try to escape, I'll shoot you dead. Understand?"
Gulping, I nod.
His mouth twitches as he momentarily stares at me, then he spins on his heels and strides for a door at the front of the bar. "Zander, take her to the dungeon. Everyone else, come with me."
Two of the men follow, but Blaise remains at my side. When Fredrick notices, he motions at Blaise with annoyance.
"Hurry up," he demands. "We're going to be late."
Blaise hesitates, looking from me to Zander then back to me. "Actually, I think I'm going to stay."
"This isn't a job that requires two people," Fredrick snaps impatiently. "Now, one of you, come on."
"It might take two people," Zander says, checking the bullets in his gun. "You never know with strangers, Fredrick. Remember how tricky and strong Eva was?"
Fredrick slams his palm against the doorframe. "Eva wasn't human. That wasn't my fault."
Zander studies me with his silver eyes that match stars in the midnight sky. "Maybe she's not, either. You can't always tell for sure."
Huffing a frustrated breath, Fredrick shoves the door open. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. But don't come whining to me to give you a recap of the meeting." With that, he storms out the doors and into a dirt street blanketed by nightfall.
"Good God, this whole leadership thing is going to his head," Zander mumbles once Fredrick is long gone.
"Tell me about it," Blaise says, slipping his gun into his holster. "The other day, he tried to make me clean his house. Said it was part of my job, like I'm a goddamn maid or something."
Zander chuckles. "I bet you had a few choice words to say about that."
An arrogant smile expands across Blaise's face. "Don't I always?"
Watching Blaise smile so casually is very strange. If he didn't go by the name Blaise, I'd speculate that perhaps he was a twin or a doppelganger. That is, if the latter exists. I'm not sure since I don't understand how I know the word.
"That you do." Zander chews on his bottom lip as he retrieves a silver pocket watch from his vest pocket and checks the time. "So, what're we going to do with this one?"
Blaise's gaze flits to me, and he measures me up. "I'm not sure yet."
Zander stuffs the pocket watch back in his pocket. "You think we should let her go?"
"Normally, I'd say yes, but ..." Blaise examines me closely, thrumming his fingers on the sides of his legs. "But she knows my name."
Zander faces me with his arms crossed. "That is a little strange."
The two of them stare at me, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden in my brain.
"What did you say your name was?" Zander finally asks.
I swallow, mostly to rehydrate my throat that's gone painfully dry. "Allura."
Zander gives Blaise a curious look. "Are you sure the name doesn't ring a bell?"
Blaise briefly contemplates the answer before shaking his head. "I don't think so. I don't know ... I've met a lot of people during my travels. Maybe we crossed paths during one?" He leaves the question hanging out there for me to answer.
I want to tell him the truth, but I fear the real answer will result in me being locked up.
"Yes, that's where we met," I lie, starting to sweat.
He taps his foot restlessly against the floor. "And where exactly did we cross paths?"
I have no clue how to answer that question since I'm unsure where we are. Still, I should give him something.
"Um ..." I nervously rub my hand across my damp forehead.
Zander and Blaise suddenly go bugged-eyed.
"Well, this is a strange surprise," Zander says, reaching for my arm. "She's a Nameless."
I trip back as his fingers graze my wrist. While I'm fine with Ryder, Reece, and Blaise touching me, I don't par
ticularly care for anyone else to.
"Sorry." Zander raises his hands in front of him in a surrender pose. "I wasn't going to hurt you. I just wanted to look at your number."
Blaise once told me to never let anyone know I'm a Nameless, that people would take advantage of me. I may not know where the hell I am or who this Blaise is in front of me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to risk going against the rules of surviving.
I cover my hand over the number on my wrist. "It's not a Nameless number. Just a tattoo."
Blaise steps forward and pries my fingers off my wrist to examine the ink branded into my skin. "No, this is a Nameless number." His gaze rises to me and wonderment overflows from his eyes. "You escaped from the channels?"
I fuse my lips together and attempt to wiggle my arm free from his grasp, but he holds on securely.
"We're not going to hurt you," Blaise tells me. "I just want--need--to know if you escaped the channels."
I wrap my free arm around myself and whisper, "Why?"
Blaise exchanges a glance with Zander that reminds me a lot of all the mysterious looks that go on between Blaise, Ryder, and Reece.
"Go ahead and tell her," Zander encourages, folding his arms. The sleeve of his shirt rides up, revealing a wrist made of metal, rounded gadgets, and a few springs. "She'll probably be more likely to tell you."
"Only if she's a good person." Blaise eyes me warily. "Are you?"
The question, while simple enough, throws me for a sharp and abrupt turn. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" he questions with his brows elevated. "Have you ever hurt anyone?"
I bob my head up and down, shame building in my chest. "I have."
"And what were the circumstances?" Blaise steps toward me until the tips of his boots kiss my toes. "Did you hurt someone for fun or to protect?"
"To protect." I'm not so certain I'm being entirely truthful.
Blaise dips his head toward mine and the scent of leather, dirt, and cologne engulfs my nostrils. "Tell me, Allura, if you're a Nameless, then how is it possible that you can speak so well?"
I shrug. "I don't know."
His brow meticulously arches. "You don't know?"
I shake my head, discreetly breathing his scent in. He may not act like the Blaise I know, but he smells like him. "I can't really remember my past very well."
Compassion flicks across his face. "Neither can I. At least, not all of it." He moves backs, taking his lovely scent with him and erasing any emotion from his face. "My sister has been trapped in the channels for a while ... We've raided a few, but there's still so many we haven't located. So, if you're really from one, I need you to tell me so that I can attempt to track it down and look for her."
