Cora, 1:7

Cora
Book One
Part 7

They'd gone through the streets and down a set of stairs. She saw the hole near the baseboards on her left, the same hole she'd slid through on her first day. It was ages ago. They went as far as the door and Bash stopped. “He won't harm you,” he said again and she nodded. Then he opened the door and they went through. The alley was bright and he was holding her hand. They veered right and she could feel the tension through his fingers. The door that was open before was now closed and Bash blew out his breath and shook out his shoulders. He opened the door and there was a man standing there. They were each startled and took steps back and she couldn't see the man anymore. Bash recovered first and settled a loose smile over his face.

“Hello, Aress,” the winged man said, still holding her hand.  The man stepped back into the alley and she shrank behind Bash. He was not a frightening-looking man. He was thin and average-heighted and had sloping shoulders. His dark hair was cut close, closer than Marc's, and he had light blue eyes that were sharp and bright. He was smirking at Bash and followed his arm to her hand, then to her face. She looked at his hooked nose and felt the sharp eyes on her and watched his smirking lips and felt a stinging at the back of her throat. She didn't want to cry.

“Well hello, Bash,” he said. “Thank you for stopping by. I was just on my way to find you.”  The winged man continued to smile but the expression was forced; no one liked Aress out to find them. She was surprised that the Enforcer knew the winged-man's name and she wondered what else he knew. She was led inside and the man told them to sit, but Bash said they would stand. The man was looking at her and she felt uncomfortable. He pulled a file from a drawer, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. He was behind a desk and had a pair of glasses settled across his nose. He had a pen and made a few scratches then looked at her over the frames of his glasses. “She's it, then?”

“Aye.” Bash nodded, and shifted, and she knew this was uncomfortable for him. Aress the Enforcer made more scratches with his pen; he sized her up and she squirmed again and stared at the corner of the desk. She waited a minute and took a breath and looked back but the light eyes were still staring at her. She made a squeak and took another step behind Bash. He folded his arm at the elbow and held it behind his back, so she could hide. Aress was smirking and nodded.

“A crier, then?” Aress was looking at the spot where she'd just stood and Bash heard the crier's insuck of breath and knew without turning that she was wide-eyed and staring over his shoulder.

“She's nearly done with that, now,” Bash said. Aress gave a nod and more scratching.

“Has she taken her visit, then?”

“No.” The winged man's palm felt damp and she wanted to let go but wouldn't. She wasn't sure about a visit or what that meant, but she didn't let on. She stayed behind him and stared at the floor. Bash shifted again and Aress honed in on him. His smirk broadened into a smug smile and he leaned back in his chair.

“Still winged, then?” Bash's smile became feral and a hard look came into his eyes. He did not respond, but it was answer enough. The Enforcer chuckled and nodded and made more scratches. “Did he tell you about our little run in?” No one responded and he looked over his glasses again. He looked at Bash then over Bash's shoulder to the top of her head. “What's she doing back there?” Bash shrugged and the Enforcer looked frustrated. “Well let go of her, then. I can't do this if I can't see her.”

Bash was a little relieved to have a reason to drop her hand. His palm was sweaty and it made him uncomfortable. He and the light-eyed man exchanged a quick look and Aress nodded his head. Bash took a quick step to his left and sat in a chair, leaving her exposed. Her eyes were wide enough to pop and her lips were pale and trembling. Bash felt a bit of guilt over leaving her like that, and he tapped his heels against the floor. He was more nervous than he would admit, since his run-in.

“There's a girl,” the man said softly and took off his glasses. “Come closer, and tell me your name.” She stepped closer, right up to the desk, but was typically tight-lipped and stared at the corner of the desk. Aress looked at Bash, and Bash shrugged again; he wasn't in the business of forcing her. Aress watched the winged man for a moment, the smirk twitching in the corners of his mouth, then he held out his left hand. “Give me your hand, darling.” She gave him her right and he shook his head and pointed at the other. So she gave him the left. He looked over to Bash and shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Married? That was sloppy...” Bash didn't say anything and looked at his fingers. It was sloppy, and he couldn't deny it.

Cora didn't feel like herself. She was wearing borrowed clothes and her hair was a mess and she didn't have a smudge of make-up. She felt like her nightmare had shifted, like she had been lifted up and was dropped into someone else's body, in someone else's life. Her hands felt suffocatingly dry. Her eyes still felt dry. The bottoms of her ears ached from holding in tears. She was bound in a body that was unfamiliar and not hers. And the Enforcer was holding her hand, the same hand Bash held. He held it gently, like Bash, unlike Marc. But she felt he was not to be trusted. He was looking up at her and she found his eyes and this time did not look away. “No,” she said and his smirk faded.

“What's that?” His eyes were hard and cold and she knew he was dangerous. She could sense it, though no one had ever said.

“No, he did not tell me,” she said. The smirk returned and the Enforcer looked at Bash, who was still looking at his fingers and fidgeting. Bash was too preoccupied with his nerves to be astonished with her speaking and not squeaking.

“So he didn't tell you about the antidote?” She shook her head. “You didn't know his bite may not have taken?”

“I knew,” she said and wouldn't look over her shoulder. She heard Bash shift and knew he was standing, but she wouldn't look at him. She hoped he wouldn't make her tell. The Enforcer was also surprised, she could see. He let go of her hand and leaned back in his chair. He asked how she knew but she was faithfully close-mouthed. He tried to intimidate her with his stare but she did not waver and he shrugged, and smirked, and leaned forward again.

“Your name, then?”

“Cora,” she said softly and he scratched it down. Bash was still standing, if she'd turned to look, and it was her turn to feel guilty. She'd kept a secret from him. He didn't know a lot of things about her, but she had learned intimate knowledge of him and kept it secret. She wondered if he felt betrayed. Aress noded a few times, for no real reason, then looked back to the winged man.

“How long has she been with you?”

“Four days,” he answered. She blinked; it had seemed like much longer.

“Four days,” the Enforcer muttered as he scribbled it down. He took his glasses off and looked at them both, then focused on Cora. She worked to stand firm and not fidget under his icy gaze. The Enforcer then returned his glasses and looked back to the papers. “There are 10 days left for her visit,” he said. He wrote in silence then took off his glasses and leaned back in the chair. He was focused on Bash and the smug smile had returned to his face. “Come back after her visit. We'll know by then.” He looked back at Cora and she felt ill. Her stomach rumbled unpleasantly. “Pretty name,” he said gently. “Pretty girl.” She tasted bile in her throat and swallowed a deep breath. She felt cold and folded her arms over her chest. The Enforcer's eyes were on Bash then he lowered his voice conspiritorially. “I could fix it, you know. Just a little shot and you'll be normal. You can return to your family... return to your husband.” She felt like he was breathing words into her heart and she felt her wedding band with her thumb. Her breaths were shallow and he saw the tears forming. “You would never have to see him again.” Her mouth opened and closed and the tears pooled in her eyes.

“Enough,” Bash growled. His hands were clenched into fists and the corners of his mouth twitched unpleasantly. He walked behind her and was nearly through the door before she could get turned around. She was terrifed he would leave her, because she deserved it. Aress cleared his throat and the winged man stopped and turned back toward the desk. “How is Marc doing?” he asked and the smirk accented his words. “Still alone?”

“Aye.” Bash frowned heavily; he did not like this line of questioning. The Enforcer's expression did not change; he was smug and appeared to know more than he was letting on.

“And Liese? Has she found a new one yet?”

“Liese will find another in her own time,” Bash said forecefully, then spun around and left. She was a step behind him and the last Aress saw she was diving for his hand.



“You need a new place, mate.” Marc had a mouth full of food and crumbs on his shirt. More crumbs flew from his mouth as he spoke. Bash's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything. He was in a bad mood from the visit with Aress. Cora was not speaking either, though it wasn't unusual. It was only Marc with them; Liese and Marilyn were out. She didn't know where. She was trying to be invisible and letting the silent tears slide down her face. Marc continued his one-sided conversation and Bash stared thoughtfully through the window. The heavy man gave up and finished his sandwich in silence, then fiddled with his laptop.

“He was looking for me,” Bash muttered, and the heavy man looked up.

“What's that?”

“Aress. He said he was on his way to see me.” He mulled over the thought and adjusted the hem of the curtain in the window sill. It was dark and dusty and he frowned over it. His whole little room needed to be cleaned. Althought the thought of a new place didn't seem all that bad. He'd been here a long while, and it was getting cramped. “What do you think of it?” Marc typed for a few seconds then looked at the winged man over the screen. His skin had a bluish cast up to the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

“You did have that scuffle,” he murmured. “He may have just been checking in.” They exchanged a quick look and Bash snorted. The wings shivered and a silver-red feather floated to the floor. Marc picked it up and set it on the desk. Bash picked it up and twirled it through his fingers.

“He gave her 10 days to make her visit,” Bash said to the feather. Visits were dangerous. It was not widely known that a newly infected outcast was allowed one home visit; it also was not widely known that after the home visit, the outcast could be given the antidote and be saved, within two weeks of the bite. They could be saved later, too, but within two weeks the side effects were less severe. He looked over his shoulder; she was curled at the foot of the bed and covered with a quilt. Her shoulders shook. The silver-red wings drooped and he turned back to the window. Marc's eyes were wide.

“But that's...”

“I'll take her in five,” he said crossly. He had lied to the Enforcer; it was nine days since she was bitten. But he didn't need more trouble than he had, so he lied. The visit made him nervous. He wished Aress had not mentioned the visit in front of her. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the desk and his wings drooped forlornly. She cried so much, there was little chance she'd stay with him. He knew it was common, but he didn't want his first one to be a failure.

She was not crying, not at the moment, but the edge of the bed was wet from her tears. She knew it was a different reason; she knew she cried because of what she'd said. She'd never wanted him to know she knew. It gave her control, to stay with him despite his problem. It gave her choice in her future. “She'll never stay,” she heard him mutter and she squeezed her eyes into the quilt. It should have never been that way.

Hardly ten minutes were passed when he knew by her breathing that she was asleep. He got up from the chair to check on her. Her brow was furrowed and her face streaked with tears. He adjusted her body to be more comfortable and covered her better, then sat back at the desk. Marc shook his head; she was lucky to have a man like Bash. The heavy man was not convinced she was alseep; she'd tricked him before. “Sorry, mate,” he said. “Good luck.”