Chapter 52
Not everything about me has changed, which is the biggest relief. So it's not just our souls? This entire process is confusing, and since this hasn't been the predictable in any sense, I'm worried Sinful has double crossed me, and our plan isn't in fact real. The idea of that settles into my stomach, making me feel ill.
Instead of concentrating on that, I notice how this guard is completely ignoring me, leading me past cells where people slide their arms through, trying to grasp at us, but not succeeding.
"Excuse me," I say, speeding up as much as possible on my weary legs. "What is happening right now."
They don't reply until we seem to come to the end of the hallway. They open a door, and as I wander speculatively through it, I leave the wails of pain behind me. I have to keep reminding myself they deserve this fate.
Once the door is closed, it's like I'm in a completely different world.
"Keep up, and listen," the guard mutters, starting up the stairs. I follow right behind, curious of where we are going, while being equally apprehensive. "Someone will explain more to you soon."
Who, I wonder.
"That is one of the prisons, which I'm sure you are aware of for reasons you and I cannot discuss, but the one we are going to see now," the way, leading me down another hallway. These corridors are more pleasant, although clinical. I can hear each of my steps on the shiny ground.
I decide to finally voice my queries. "Who?"
"You'll see." Another turn.
We pause in front of a large door, with crystal like windows to it that I can't see through. The guard knocks promptly, before they turn, and walk away - only after demanding I stay standing outside the door. I nearly don't, too scared of what is behind that door.
As the door opens, naturally, I'm faced with someone I've never seen before. Not just because they are a stranger, but also because of their looks. Otherwordly.
He smiles as he lays eyes on me.
"Sinful's special present for me has finally arrived," he says warmly. "Welcome, Alaya."
I'm not sure what surprises me the most.
Sinful is a jerk. I know that much already, though. How he managed to make my plan go from somewhat brilliant to absolute trash that I'm too far deep in to revoke. He always managed to do it in record time - I assume when Asher and I were back in the mortal lands. Cunning. Manipulative. All these things I already know about Sinful, yet it still crashes over me like wave that I may have possibly stepped into a trap.
The next surprise to contest the former, is this utter stranger looking down at me. He definitely adds sense to the strange in that word. In some off sense, he reminds me of Fate, and maybe on a far stretch, Fate.
That relation is probably due to his hair.
Unlike Fate's extraordinary cobalt blue strands, the colour of this man's hair is a brilliant silver with the slightest undertone of minty green. At least that's what I assume it is, considering I can hardly look at it for too long without feeling like I'm breaking an unknown law. Back in the Desire Pack, I would have criticised the colour for being part of the dyed hair trend.
I know here, that can't be the case. This is something immortal. Just like how Fate has his hair colour.
He steps back, holding the door open into a large room filled with furnishings. From where I stand, it seems eerily normal. Normal doesn't go along with a Moon that harbours the souls of some of the most dangerous mortals there are.
"Please," he says, "Come in."
For a moment I'm stuck to my spot. Something about this man exudes confidence and trust, but this is a prison facility. I'm meant to be a criminal here until Sinful comes to save me. After this stranger's words, I'm not sure that's about to happen anymore. Especially since I'm his gift from Sinful.
He seems to notice my hesitation. I can only tell this when I finally move my eyes up to meet his. Naturally, they are spectacular, which doesn't seem to be a surprise considering that's a typical immortal trait. A glacial blue. Despite the colour being as sharp as ice, something about the way he looks at me is warm. I've known not to fall for the way someone looks at you. Sinful taught me that.
"I mean you no harm, only an explanation," he says carefully. Admittedly, I'm drawn to the tone of his voice. It's soft and delicate, as if it would break if he raised his voice.
At this point, what do I have to lose?
Slowly, I step into the room, looking around the room curiously. It seems as though this one room hold almost everything. A lounge area, a kitchen and dining. All that is missing is a bathroom and bedroom which must behind the door at the end. This looks like an apartment you would find at the top of your average high rise in the Desire Pack.
It's not a prison. Not a trap. It's a home, that I wouldn't have guessed belong to the male behind me if he wasn't standing there. In fact, it reminds me of my old apartment after I got my job. Average.
"What is this place?" I breathe, turning around on the spot. The stranger leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watches me silently.
"My room," he tells me tentatively. "Where I stay when I come to visit."
I turn, surprised by this for whatever reason. I don't know him at all, yet here I am, judging him. Of course this isn't his place, looking at how small and insignificant it is. This is an immortal we are talking about.
"You don't live here?" I question anyway. Keeping him talking is stopping me from second guessing myself and getting nervous. I'm not sure if I'm dead or alive right now, so in that regard, I'm slightly less frightened of what my outcome will be.
"No, I live elsewhere," he tells me, finally pushing away from the door. "I'm Micah, by the way."
"Alaya," I reply nervously.
He nods, strolling past me, leaving me to breathe in a surprising scent of white grapefruit and spice. He really is so strange. I watch him while he wanders to a chaise lounge, sitting down on it backwards on his knees, so he could rest his arms on the back of the rest. He raises a dark eyebrow at me. It's interesting how they don't match at all to his hair.
"I already know," he says carefully, watching for my reaction. "Like I said earlier, Sinful alerted me. I apologise you had to spend the amount of time in the cell that you did. We have a hard time communicating with the staff here."
I swallow uncomfortably. Who would willingly work in a place like this?
"What did Sinful say to you?" I ask, remaining rooted to where I stand, even as he motions for me to come sit. He seems good at picking up on my hesitation, though, as he comes to stand in front of me again. I ensure there is reasonable space between us.