The Aviary Page 6

  “You know what Kerrick will do if he sees you wearing that.” Sky cocked his head back to his book while a ringlet of his hair, a lighter shade of his earthy umber eyes, tumbled onto his cheekbone.

  I rolled my eyes because Sky was right—my dad would probably burst a blood vessel if he saw me. “Next best thing after skinny dipping. If we were back at our lake house—”

  “This isn’t the lake house. If he were here, he’d give you a lecture.”

  A lengthy one filled with a mass of colorful vocabulary that would probably just get stuck in the network of cottony fluff in my head. Unlike my mother, actions were more appropriate when it came to me. My mother needed my father’s words. Sky provided action, which was why our dynamic worked so well.

  I thought about the Breakables again, living their lives like ghosts in obedience and fear or blind belief.

  It was probably better to let the conversation rest. After all, I could end up talking to him about girls in museums, and then there would really be some trouble. Museums are Sky’s kryptonite. Maybe because they’re a Family business. Maybe because just the mention of the word made him wonder if his Family owns one.

  As I swam, I let the water disturb those thoughts until they dissolved like popped bubbles.

  I would never become a ghost.

  Devious, I smiled at Sky just before splashing him.

  Rage contorting his face, Sky stood from his chair with the full height of his six-foot-five shadow towering over me. He shook out his shirt, glaring.

  “Serenity.” He took one look at me before grunting and turning around.

  Sky might not be my real brother, but he is still my everything—always enough for me. We are paper flowers in the attic. No sunlight to help us grow; we’ve held on to each other for warmth, our lives tethered in nothing but each other.

  With the Temple never giving up its search for my mother and me, discretion was paramount. My parents always brought us to hotels when it was busiest to avoid smugglers. For some reason, they’d never bothered to just leave Sky and me holed up in one of their isolated country cabins or seaside condos even though they were so paranoid about my safety. My father came from wealth and was well paid during his time working for the Temple, so I knew they had the money to buy a house, rather than just rent one from time to time. If my mother wanted to hide from the Temple director so much, then why did she and my father always return to the Five Boroughs?

  I sank into the pool, rejoicing in the sensation of my curls floating behind me in the water. With the moonlight bathing me, I imagined I was some sort of mermaid, but it had to be a dark mermaid, the kind with silver hair journeying to her hips and white skin befitting her dark inhabitance that swam in deep water far away from the sun. The kind who could drag men down to the depths with her.

  “Shouldn’t Mom and Dad be back by now?” I asked.

  Sky grunted, and the muscles in his neck tensed as he responded, “Typical.” Familiar body language he only used when he talked about my parents.

  “Where do you think we’ll go tomorrow?” I wondered just as Sky braced on the armrest of the lounge chair, flexing the muscles that could make a gladiator weep. The moonlight sewed its rays into his golden skin, the polar opposite of me.

  Sky didn’t answer. It was getting annoying.

  We returned to the hotel room. Along the way, I received numerous stares, some curious but others hungry. But Sky kept a firm, almost possessive hand on my back during the entire trek. When he inserted his card key, I could already hear the sobs from inside. My mother sat on the couch, face tucked into her hands with my father just next to her, cupping her shoulder, body leaning into hers as he murmured into her ear. It wasn’t abnormal to see my mother crying. What was abnormal were the bruises flowering on her arms. Sky shut the door behind us even as I rushed into the sitting room.

  “Mom!” I cried, making my way toward her with the towel still tucked around my frame.

  My father retrieved a throw blanket from the couch, then wrapped it around her to conceal the bruises. He also scraped away a piece of neuro-latex still sticking to her skin. They changed their features when they went outside on one of their missions, ones I was forbidden to know about. My mother had taken some skills from the Temple with her. Skin masks of all kinds was one of them. It could alter her features within moments.

  “Serenity,” my father said, taking my arm. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. Your mother just needs a moment of space.” She always needed space. Always kept a blanket over her past to muffle its secrets.

  “What happened?” I asked her, sinking onto the couch. “Where did you go? Who did this to you?”

  This wasn’t the first time she’d appeared with bruises after one of their excursions. It hadn’t happened in months, but we were in the Rome of our country, so to speak, and men were far more aggressive, confident, and demanding here. And my mother was still young and beautiful.

  My father interjected again. “Serenity, go take your shower. Your mother will be available after that. And we will also discuss your midnight swim.”

  I heaved a sigh but didn’t waste any time. The sooner I showered and dressed, the sooner I could talk to my mother. Sky’s and my room were connected by an adjoining door while Mom and Dad shared the master bedroom on the opposite side of the main room. While I showered, I wove through the different options of what could’ve happened.

  All throughout the years, I’d never asked many questions. Homeschooling, moving from place to place, sneaking out to swim, and spending time with Sky kept me preoccupied from wondering too much about where my parents went during the night and why they returned during the wee hours of the morning. Every now and then, Sky would leave the hotel for a couple of hours, but he’d always return and tell me everything about where he went.

  The knock at the adjoining door prompted me to dress quickly, tease my fingers through my hair, and collect myself before permitting Sky to enter. In his open palm was a small glass snow globe.

  “For your collection.” He winked.

  I snatched the item, fingering it for a moment before shaking it again and again.

  “Hey,” Sky protested while leaning against the door. “What’d that poor thing ever do to you?”

  I liked these old-school ones, too. Not the digital ones that had animated snow flurries, negating the need to shake. Shaking was the fun part.

  My smile crooked when I said, “Thank you, Sky.” I paused to study the miniature city in my hand before kissing his cheek. He knew I enjoyed bringing a piece of each city with me wherever we traveled. Home wasn’t one place. Home was chunks of skyscrapers, hotels, lake houses, seaside villas, and mountain cabins. These were enough for me. I may be wild, but I’m not dumb. I know what happens to girls on the outside. I know what happened to my mother.

  Sky relayed the message. “Your mother’s ready for you.”

  That was an understatement. She was never ready for me.

  “Are you going to go work out?” I asked, knowing Sky always used the hotel weight rooms every night and morning. Another thing I never complained about since he was so hell-bent about it—part of his protector frame of mind. My father also trained him from time to time; the Temple had higher standards for its security than the Secret Service. Temple guards were practically ninjas.

  He shook his head. “Later. I’d like to finish my book first. Be on the couch.” He squeezed my arm once, leaving a pinch of warmth there before I approached my parents’ bedroom. Guess Sky and I had something in common: he liked old-school books.

  Inside, the curtains were drawn and lights turned off. Ironically, my mother feels most comfortable in darkness. Part of me imagines Force kept the lights on when he came for her at night. Maybe the darkness is her shield.

  “Serenity,” she mumbled, gesturing to a place on the bed next to her.

  I concentrated on the object in her hands, which was a small chest. More of a jewelry box—one my father had given her years ago
so she could store the items she’d escaped with when she’d fled the Temple. Forbidden to me. Her thumbs rubbed the wooden lid, but she made no motion to open it.

  As I sank onto the bed next to her, she placed the box back on her nightstand. Her nightgown strap slid down her shoulder, betraying the edges of her scars. Each one was like a silver thread. When I was a child, I’d stepped in on her showering by accident and saw them all. A patchwork pattern of old lacerations and gashes healed into threadlike scars on her back. That was the first day I understood what a monster Force was, what he’d done to my mother. From that day on, I didn’t ask her any more questions even though my hands ached to open her chest.

  “Where were you?” I hoped it was a safe enough question.

  My mother isn’t a good liar. Still, some of her words bore a chime of truth, so I sighed and listened. “Your father and I met with some activists. But some Family discovered us. We got out, but others weren’t so…lucky.” Her last word is clouded in shame. I couldn’t ever bear the weight of regret like she does. Instead, I plunge headfirst and fight my way out, regrets left far behind me. They’re too slow to catch up anyway.

  “Mom, why don’t you tell me the truth? I’m sixteen now. I can handle whatever you need to tell me.”

  My mother shook her head. “Your strength is different from mine. You wear yours so proudly. You don’t keep one bit of it tucked inside you. But I have to. My secrets are the only thing, the only way I can…cope. I wasn’t allowed to have any secrets back at the…” She wasn’t strong enough to say the word.

  The Temple was still a ghost taunting her, drifting in and out of her memories. But I couldn’t push her no matter how much I wanted to. Secrets were my mother’s only bit of power. I couldn’t take them away from her. She had to give them at the right time.

  “Daddy.” I peered at my father when he entered the room, a relaxed smile on his face. He cupped my shoulder once and nodded, signaling it was his turn.

  My father and I didn’t have many words for each other. He was a master at reading expressions and body language, part of his expertise when he worked in the Temple. He always seemed to register what was in my head. Unlike Sky, my father didn’t have a temper.

  Just before I turned to leave, he called my name and motioned to his cheek. I let out an airy giggle caught halfway between a sigh and a chuckle before rising to kiss his cheek. Before closing the door, I paused to watch my father gather my mother into the bed, draw her against his chest, and hold her in the fetal position while she whimpered into her pillow. He would make everything better. The best thing he ever did for my mother was stay with her. Stuck with her even in the dark days of the Temple until she realized he wasn’t going to leave. The second-best thing he ever did was love her.

  I closed the door, noticing Sky out of the corner of my eye. He sat on the couch reading the same book he was earlier.

  At first, I said nothing and perused the magazine tablet on the side table by the couch, huffing every so often. Most were filled with interviews of Temple girls. Many I recognized from film trailers because they were often loaned to Hollywood.

  “I don’t know why you read that stuff. It just puts you in a foul mood.”

  I chucked the tablet at his head even though he was right. Pity that Sky’s reflexes were too keen. He caught the tablet, then swept to the last page I had marked earlier just before narrowing his brows to look at me. “Like you need a magazine to determine your attractiveness. You don’t even need me to remind you of that.”

  Or any other man from hotel guests to staff to passersby, who stopped in their tracks to ogle, drool, leer, flirt, and check me out in all other forms. I wasn’t sure why I was always singled out when my mother was with me. She’s every bit as beautiful as I am, if not more.

  “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t even reading it. I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do,” he states.

  I balled my hands into fists, leaped over the side of the couch, and crouched. “No, I don’t! You know I’m going to my grave a virgin.”

  Sky eyed me from the opposite cushion. “Still holding to your mantra? Your armor? What if you change your mind?”

  “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

  “What if someone changes it for you?”

  “You. Won’t. Let. That. Happen.” I pointed out the obvious, relaxing a little.

  “Meaning I’m your indentured-servant bodyguard for life.”

  I feigned a yawn. “You say servant. I say slave. Tomato, tomahtoe.”

  “Guess I can live with that.” He shrugged, turning a page. “I’ve been under your power since you were an infant anyway.”

  “Never forget it,” I warned with a smug smile before turning and flopping back so my head hit his leg, curls spread like dozens of spiraled halos.

  Sky stared at me. “I’m serious.” He rubbed his thumb against my cheek as if wiping at a smudge, expression softening, eyes deepening.

  I didn’t like his change in attitude. “Cut that out. Why don’t we play a game?” I leapt off the couch, then targeted the playing cards on the kitchen table. Sky sighed behind me.

  “Whatever you want, Serenity.”

  Just as I grabbed the cards, I turned back to him, my curiosity adopting his seriousness from a moment ago. “Sky, what if you’re not there? Someday?” I wondered.

  Sky turned then, eyes brutal and tense. He stood from the couch to approach me, leaned forward until our foreheads almost touched, eyes darting back and forth between my own to say, “I’ll search for you. And I won’t stop until I find you.”

  9

  R e c o V e r Y

  Upon waking in the morning in the Aviary, my fingers meet with soft flesh.

  “Dove…” She sits on the edge of my bed, holding my hand. “I…what happened?” Sky. Sky happened.

  What I wouldn’t give for him to hold me right now. I almost forget he stopped holding me months ago. No hugs. No light pecks on the cheek. I can’t so much as nudge or poke him without him wincing like my fingers are lightning rods. At least he kept his promise.

  He found me.

  “You’ve slept most of the day in recovery.” Dove motions her head to the windows where the sun is stretched to its full height. “Owl has checked on you multiple times.”

  “Recovery?”

  Seeming annoyed, Dove sighs. “He does not warn girls idly. He can’t be there to protect you all the time. He told you to stay in your room. After Vulture found you, Owl had you transferred to the medical wing.”

  When I take inventory of my body, I discover all traces of pain are gone.

  Dove must see the confusion on my face. “Your skin has been pigmented, and the bruises and lacerations are healing at an accelerated rate due to the Immortal Treatment.” She glances away from me, the shadow of apprehension in her eyes. “The only reason you don’t feel them is due to the remedies in your system.”

  Remedies? I peel away the narrow wad of cotton concealing the needle prick. “Pain medication,” I say. That explains the numbness.

  “An organic compound that will help block your brain’s pain receptors. Luc insisted on non-synthetic compounds in your case.”

  While I’m mulling this over, Dove suddenly snaps, “You were foolish to leave your room. Did you really think you could escape? And what do you think would’ve happened once you were outside? You would’ve been taken to the Glass District in no time.”

  I don’t tell her it wasn’t my intention to escape. Don’t breathe a word about searching for Sky.

  I ponder how much has changed. My life was simple before this. I wished I’d appreciated my time behind hotel glass more. Better than Aviary glass any day of the week. No competition but my pillow fights with Sky. No emotional manipulation. No mind games. No sense of threat.

  I discovered last night that the other Birds are just as dangerous as any man, even if I still don’t know who my assailant is.

  “Do you know who attacked me?” I ask, thinking there mus
t be security cameras.

  Dove shakes her head. “That is not my business. From what I’ve heard, the darkness would have impeded that. Someone must have known how to turn off the light sensors.”

  My cage used to be the hotels where I grew up. There, I knew what to do and how to act. Now, I would choose to spend an eternity inside those walls, just being Serenity instead of a caged bird. At least in the hotel, I always had one constant. Sky.

  Who will I become here? Girls have adopted their feathers, seemingly as easy as zipping up a jacket. But I wear my lightning on my sleeve, and I always will.

  After Dove departs, I thumb my silver tattoo. Like flames and frost, it taunts my skin. Somehow, I must keep the Aviary from conquering me.

  Falling back against the bed pillow, I hear something crunch. Without hesitating, I reach beneath the pillowcase and withdraw a crumpled piece of paper. I recognize Sky’s familiar chicken scratch:

  Don’t ever do that again, Serenity. Let me come to you. Be patient.

  An hour later, Dove helps me dress. Thanks to my treatment, I’m healing well and can walk. By now, the numbness has subsided, and I feel the burden of the bruises with each movement. Sluggish, I put on the white dress Dove has laid out for me. It is more casual than the formal dinner ensemble from last night. Even so, there are still feathers stitched into random places on the material, which is light and decorated in lacy patches at the bottom. Anyone can see the skin of my knees where the hem stops.

  I don’t tell Dove how free my legs feel—no longer slaves to weighty pants or long skirts. When I sit in front of the mirror, she creates a certain magic in my hair, weaving the strands into a twisting sort of braid that cascades down my lower back. The braid is lovely and loose. Dove leaves the recalcitrant tendrils, oblivious of any order, to their own bidding. It’s no surprise she interlaces white feathers into the braid.