Chapter 9

Victor calls for what has to be the twentieth time that day. After receiving nothing but a standard voicemail from Emily last night, he's been trying again and again ever since he woke up this morning.

"You've reached 020-79 —"

Victor hangs up yet again, silencing the automated voice. His grip on the useless little device tightens, and he makes to hurl it across the room.

Tiny fingers curl around his wrist, stopping him. Victoria gazes up at him, concern written in her dark eyes.

"Victor, stop. She clearly doesn't want to speak to you."

Victor sighs and shoves his phone back into his pocket. "I didn't like the look of the man she was with. She could be in trouble."

"Is it possible that you could be jealous?"

"What? No, I —" Victor sputters. "I don't, you don't under —"

"You're a terrible liar." Victoria smiles, but it's laced with sadness. "I had a feeling this would happen."

"Victoria-"

"Let me finish." She takes a deep breath. "Even after we were married, I knew your mind was always somewhere else. I'd go up to your study to see you, only to find you gazing out the window or humming that melody you're so fond of. And of course, there were the butterflies. Yes, Victor, I saw them." she says, silencing him with her hand. "I'm not thick. You were pining after her even after you let her go. I stopped trying to kiss you, to pretend your heart wasn't flying away, fluttering after hers, after seeing those drawings." She bites her lip. "And now that she's here again, I know you are lost to me forever. I see the way she looks at you, and you her. You don't have to pretend anymore. I love you, Victor, but you are not mine."

Emily's voice echoes within those final words, piercing him. Victor takes her hands in his own. "Victoria, I am so sorry. I tried, I really did-"

"I know. I'm not upset with you. Not like before."

Victor pulls her into his arms, comforting her. He rests his chin on top of her hair. "What do we do now?" he murmurs.

"I don't know."

Ding dong!

Victoria breaks away to go answer the door.

Bonejangles stands in the doorway, hair ruffled as usual. "Hallo, Victoria!" he says, grinning at her. "Where's the rest of you lot?" He peers around Victoria and spots Victor. "Ha, there you are! Get Em down here, I've got somethin' to tell all of you!"

"Emily isn't here." Victoria says.

Bonejangles's jaw drops. "What? Don't tell me she went off with that camera bloke!" Victor nods. Bonejangles groans. "Oi, well that's just brilliant, isn't it? Come on now, what did you say to her?"

Victor breaks eye contact to stare down at his feet. "Nothing, okay?"

Bonejangles rolls his eyes. "Oh, I see. Too complicated, right? Fine." His eyes say he'll demand an explanation later, then he continues. "Well, I guess I'll tell you then, and you can tell her later when she comes back."

Victoria moves to let him in, and Bonejangles seats himself on the sofa in the living room. "Anyway, some big company people were at the open mic at Rosings. Apparently that's where they like to find 'new talent'. They really liked Emily last night, so naturally they want to make a deal with her if she can write a few more songs like that by next week, enough to fill a decent-sized album. It'll be a dream come true!" Bonejangles stops. "Oi, I thought you'd be happier about this. What's got your knickers into a twist?"

"Bonejangles, you don't understand." Victoria says gently. "Emily is gone. We don't know where she is."

"Don't snap a rib over it. She's probably gone to cool off. From what I saw, you upset her an awful lot. Apparently enough to drive her away."

Victor glares at him. "I didn't mean to!" he snaps. Seeing the musician's wounded expression, he softens. "I'm sorry." He approaches him. "Please, Bonejangles. You know her better than both of us. Help me find her."

x

Emily paces the length of her prison. After refusing to sleep with Collin again, she had been transferred to a second room that was completely empty, the same dull walls and scruffy carpet but completely unfurnished. The door is locked and the window barred with wood, but even if she wanted to climb out it would have been a long drop. There wasn't even a blanket to wrap herself up in. She was forced to draw into that sickening sweater for warmth from time to time.

Her captors hadn't come to see her since this morning. She could hear them arguing but couldn't make out any words. Escape seems impossible at the moment. She knows at least one of them will have to come in to feed her if they want to keep her alive, but she doesn't have a weapon to attack with. The window is barred and she has nothing to open it.

It's all hopeless.

The door opens. Emily glances up to find Collin, now dressed in a patterned shirt and jeans, carrying in his massive computer, dragging a big black cord behind him. He smiles, but Emily doesn't return it. How he can even act as if this is all perfectly normal is beyond her.

He sets the hulking mass of technology down beside the socket and jams the prongs into it. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explains, "I'm going to interview you."

"Me? For what?"

"The City Shuttle." Collin presses a button that causes the machine to whir and sputter to life. "You are going to carry me all the way to the top of my career."

Emily can't help but laugh at that ridiculous notion. "And how am I going to manage that? No one really knows who I am."

Collin presses a few keys and clicks on something, then turns the computer to face her. "With these."

It's a series of photos.

The first shows Emily seated for a portrait. She remembers that day quite well, taken when she was only seventeen and her parents, stuck in their conventional ways, were busying themselves with making her a match. They had hired a photographer and a stylist to prepare some presentable photos the Hunters could post online. Despite how much it annoyed her, Emily couldn't deny that the professionals had done their job well. Long, strawberry blonde tresses were fluffed and curled, framing pale, glowing skin. The flowing lavender dress hugged her every curve. She remembered having to suck her stomach in to get the dress as tight as her mother wanted it. Pale blue eyes gazed into the camera, focused on nothing but holding perfectly still so she could go dancing later. Rose colored lips are curved into a playful smile, innocent, carefree. Father had been trying to make her laugh to make up for all the fussing her mother put her through. The reverie wounded her. She wonders where her parents are now.

The second photo isn't so cheerful. This one shows her lying dead in the grass of the forest. She's sprawled out from when Barkis had thrown her to the ground after stabbing her and stealing her fortune. Her wedding dress is a little tattered, her veil a few inches away from where it had fallen from her head. Her eyes are cold and empty, staring straight out at nothing. Her skin was an icy blue, as if she were frozen. Seeing herself like this made her feel nauseous. Is that what she truly looked like that night? A limp, broken rag doll?

The third shows her at the altar, with Victor. Where on Earth is Collin finding these? It's disturbing.

They were holding hands, Victor looking down at her reassuringly while Emily gazed up at him with utter devotion. Her body, though decaying and blue, appeared more alive than ever, an impossibly vibrant sheen in her then cold black eyes. She knew it was impossible, but she couldn't help pretend that she was every bit the glowing bride she'd always wanted to be, standing beside the man she loved, the man who was willing to give up the life he knew to be with her forever. The man she had left standing in Rosings while she ran off with her captor out of pure spite. In spite of her situation, she can't help but allow this picture to fill her up with some warmth to ward off the chill she feels now. She stops herself from reaching out towards it in time for Collin to move on to the last photo.

The final photo is the worst of them all. It showed Emily lying on Collin's bed, fast asleep, the blanket only covering her from the waist down. Thankfully her arms were wrapped around herself, covering her chest. Her hair was a mess, tousled no doubt from last night's events. She shudders. Her flesh was unmarred, not even a single bruise, thankfully. What worried her was her peaceful expression. She hopes that she had at least been dreaming of something pleasant to warrant that face. She wishes she had been allowed to shower, to scrub every bit of Collin off her body, but Collin would only allow that if he were permitted to join her.

She curls into a ball and turns away from the computer, unable to look anymore. If he went through with this, she would likely be taken away and studied, never given a moment's peace for the rest of her life, since Whoever runs the Attic seems bent on keeping her Upstairs.

Collin sighs. "I have to do this, you know. No one at the office takes me seriously. I just want to make it big, to be the one writing the headlines for once."

Is he really trying to make her pity him right now? After what he's done to her? "Why can't you just let me go? You have your photos, that's evidence enough."

"I can't. I promised Barkis I'd finish what he started once I'm through with my article, whatever that means. I'm sure it'll all be over after that."

Finish what he started?

Oh, no.

"He wants you to kill me, Collin."

x

"That's practically tracking her!"

"I'd like to hear a better idea from you, then! We've checked everywhere and turned up with nothing!"

Victoria gets up and moves to the bedroom. She can't listen to the two of them arguing anymore. Seating herself at Victor's laptop, she searches for methods to track cellphones. The phone had rung a few times the last instance Victor called, which meant it had to be on. She can only hope that it hasn't lost its charge.

The search returns several pages of results. Victoria doesn't know whether to feel glad or uncomfortable, but there's no time for that now. She opens the top link, which then prompts her to enter a cell phone number.

She hesitates. Does she really want to do this? Finding Emily would mean sealing her fate. She would lose Victor to her forever.

But keeping him with her isn't right either. Looking into those faraway eyes would only break her heart even more, knowing that he would always be dreaming of someone else.

Watching them, the way they behaved together, the way they just seemed to fit into each other's arms, is enough for Victoria to see: Emily is right. They are simply meant to be.

She enters the number and waits for the website to pull up the coordinates.

x

"You're joking."

Emily gives him a pointed look. "He killed me once before, he'll do it again. He's using you."

Collin folds his arms. "What's it to me? He's giving me what I want, and I'm giving him what he wants. So what if he's using me?"

"He'll keep using you until he can't anymore. Then, he'll dispose of you. Besides, do you really want to end up in the Basement when you die?"

Collin snorts. "I'll just never commit another crime again and the good will outweigh the bad. Don't think I haven't thought this through, Hunter. Now," He loads up a document. "Let's get on with these questions."

Emily backs away a little. Collin really is willing to do anything. "And if I refuse to answer?"

Collin smirks. "Then we break you down until you're begging."

x

"I've got the address, let's go."

Victor whips around to face Victoria, eyes wild. "Really? You know where she is?" His eyes lock on the sheet of paper in her hand. "That's the place, isn't it?"

"Calm down, Victor." Bonejangles says, chuckling. "Seems your wife's got a stronger head on her shoulders than you do."

Victor winces inwardly at that, but smiles at Victoria anyway. "Yes, she's brilliant." He pulls her into an embrace. "Thank you, so much."

Victoria smiles into his arms. "I'm glad I could help."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Bonejangles bounds out the door. "Oi, Victoria, would you mind sitting in the back for a bit? I've got to talk to Victor, and then we'll switch off if you like."

"Not at all."

Victoria climbs into the backseat and hands Victor the directions, who takes his place in the driver's side while Bonejangles slides into the passenger side. Victor glances at the directions before pulling out of the driveway.

"So, does Victoria know?"

Victor takes the car out of reverse. "Yes. She took it surprisingly well."

"Do you two have a plan, then?"

"At the moment, not really. She'll live with us, of course, unless she or Emily and I decide to move out." Victor grits his teeth. "Assuming Emily hasn't fallen for that prat already."

"I doubt it. She's not that kind of girl, and I'm sure you can win her over again. Now, what did you tell her that made her up and run off?"

Victor sighs. "I told her I'd leave Victoria in a heartbeat if it meant we could be together."

Bonejangles groans. "And given your history with leavin' women, you didn't think about the way that sounded to her, did you?"

"I don't have a history!"

"Two makes a history."

There's a pause.

"Fine. Let's say, for the sake of the discussion, I have a history."

"You do."

"Anyway, I wasn't thinking, alright? Don't you have any idea what it's like to love someone so much that you'd do anything to be with them?"

"I've got an idea, yeah."

Victor makes another right. "I married the wrong woman, Bonejangles. She didn't exactly give me a choice, either. She was so set on giving me what she thought I wanted, what I thought I wanted. I just wish I could go back and... change things. That way, maybe everything would finally go according to plan."

Bonejangles smiles, amusement glittering in his eyes. "When things work out, and they will, because I've never seen a pair more lovesick, maybe Victoria can move in with me."

"Don't you live under a bridge?"

"Hah! No, not anymore. Those producers upgraded me to a nice little single flat. We'll still see each other, of course. I've got to help Emily write some of that music. It'll be real nice, for as long as I'm here."

Victor allows himself a small smile. "I hope you're right."