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No onethreatens what is mine.
CHAPTER 17
Aurora
It's a near-full moon tonight,rising above the treetops as its silver glow bathes the flower beds in the night garden. The intoxicating fragrances of night-blooming jasmine and flowering tobacco mingle on the gentle breeze, enveloping me in their heady perfumes.
When training is done for the night, or if Lyssa and the other recruits have gone out on scouting missions—I've never even tried to suggest I might go along on one of them—then I come out here and let myself reconnect to that other version of me, the one who still loves plants and flowers, who relishes the feeling of soft soil between her toes. This is a place that makes me feel like a magical fairy princess…instead of a hostage. When I tend the beds of angel's trumpets and evening primroses, their velvety petals soft beneath my fingertips, I can almost forget that I'm a captive here.
Almost.
Tonight, most of the Syndicate is out. Lyssa and Hadria and a whole fleet of cars left the grounds earlier. I snuck down tothe foyer as they were leaving and watched them go. I wonder where?—
A crunch of gravel underfoot startles me from my reverie. I whirl around to see Hadria standing at the edge of the path, half-cloaked in shadows. My heart leaps into my throat.
She looks every inch the crime lord she is in that close-cut suit. From her jet-black hair to her intense, angular features, her whole appearance screamsDanger! Danger!
But there's an uncertainty in her stance as she moves forward into a pool of moonlight, at odds with her usual commanding presence.
"This place—it'sbeautiful." Even her voice is uncharacteristically hesitant. "I didn't realize this was what you were doing out here each night." She looks around, eyebrows raised, and then takes a step back. "But I've disturbed you. I'm sorry."
I push my hair out of my eyes, bouncing up to my feet. "Oh, please stay! I love being out here and it's…well, it's nice to have someone to share it with."
Part of me thrills at this private audience with her, the woman who has dominated my thoughts since I arrived here.
The other part is wondering if I can turn this moment to my advantage.
I'm not good at being manipulative. It doesn't come naturally to me. But it's another skill I'm going to have to learn if I want to survive here.
If I want to grasp my freedom.
Hadria steps forward beside me, still glancing around at the improvements I've made in the night garden. "I didn't even know this could be so beautiful," she murmurs. For a moment she seems entranced by the garden's nocturnal blooms, her sharp features softening as she inhales their heady scent. She looks younger, unguarded.
Almost vulnerable.
My soft heart turns traitor, aching at this glimpse beneath her hardened exterior. What must it have cost her, to lock so much of herself away under that armor?
"You've done wonders with this place," she says. "It was overgrown and dead when you arrived. Now it's…" She trails off, at a loss for words.
"Now it has a chance to thrive," I finish with a small smile.
Hadria looks at me keenly. Despite her aloofness these past weeks, I still sense her fascination with me—one that mirrors my own tangled feelings towards her. Heat rises in my cheeks and I turn aside to hide it.
"Do you need anything else to tend to it?" she asks. "More supplies?"
I'm touched by her thoughtfulness, even though I try to remind myself that she's my captor. "A few more bags of potting soil would be useful," I reply after a moment. "And better pruning shears. The ones I have are dull." I hold up the shears, suddenly self-conscious asking anything of her. But she simply nods again.
"I'll have the staff fetch whatever you need. Give Mrs. Graves a list, and she'll get it done for you."
"Thank you."
She hesitates a moment and then says, "If you really would like me to stay, I wonder if there's something I can do to…help? I've no idea about plants, but I could hand you whatever tools you need."
Hadria Imperioli has no interest in gardening, that much I know. But she has something she wants to say, clearly, and I'm curious. "Sure," I say, and point at the trowel. "Pass me that?"
We work in companionable silence, Hadria handing me tools while I trim and shape the night-blooming bushes. It's strange at first, Hadria playing nurse to my surgeon. This garden is the one place where I feel in control. Where I can shape the environment to my will, coaxing beauty from the earth. It's a small triumph, but one that empowers me in the midst of all these overpowering forces.
And I want it to be beautiful forher, though I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe I just want to prove to her that even in the ugliest of times, there can be small pockets of beauty.
