The Pawn and The Puppet (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 1)
The Pawn and The Puppet: Chapter 50

“May I have a word in private?” Judas asks. His eyes wrinkle around the corners.

I nod and look back at Ruth, sharing stories about her progress with Chekiss and Niles. “I’ll meet you for lunch, okay?”

I follow Judas to his office. Always neat and clean, like a museum with its only sin age and dust.

We sit at the same time. “Miss Ambrose, I wanted to keep you updated on time,” he prompts. Eyes serious and concerned. His fingers fiddling with a gold pocket watch.

“Time?”

“Yes, are you aware you only have seven days left with him?” He folds his arms, navy-blue suit creasing at the inside of his elbows.

A cold tremble of nausea rolls through my gut and up my throat, like a snake slithering from its coat of old skin. “Only seven?” My lips part. I can’t believe I have wasted so much time. What have I accomplished with his case other than confusing myself? Yes, he’s opened up about his past, but if the previous host doesn’t resurface, none of that means anything.

Judas nods. “I hope I do not need to remind you that the price of not fixing this is a man’s life.” He fixates his stern, ominous eyes on me like a child. “Have you made any progress with him?”

I cough up the silence that has clogged my throat. “Of course, I have. It’s just… I’m worried I won’t be able to get to the previous host in this amount of time.”

He sighs, putting his hand out for me to shake it. “Do what you have to do.”

I take his hand, feeling the dryness of his palm rubbing like sandpaper against my skin. My mind fills with clouds of smoke, self-doubt, disappointment with myself—I leave his office in a daze.

A small cold piece of metal rests in the palm that Judas shook. I look at the thin brass key, and I know why he gave it to me. I squeeze the key and hold it tight to my side. He knows, and I know, I must make drastic decisions at this point in the game. I have to take a grand enough action to give Dessin the push he needs, to give the previous host the push he needs.

I need them to trust me.

A warm flutter of excitement pours over me, tingling around the skin that touches the key. I can’t wait to show him that I have it. That we’re going away, only for the night. I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him this.

I wonder if Judas knows what he’s risking by giving us this. Unless he knows that Dessin can leave anytime he wants. He has no limitations. But giving me this key will show good faith. And I think Judas is counting on that.

I push open the door and fight the smile burning my cheeks, but it’s impossible to keep down. The door unveils his dimly lit room, his brass bed frame with built-in shackles, and a strikingly handsome man sitting in a chair, smiling back at me.

“Hi,” I say with a grin that feels permanent, taking two steps closer to him.

He crosses his arms and smiles back cautiously. “Hello.”

I think for a second about how I want to approach this. “If you could go anywhere in the world with me right now, where would you want to go?”

“Why?” He narrows his eyes on me.

“Could you get us out of here? Everyone’s leaving for the day.” I keep my poker face firm. He tilts his head to the right, focusing on my expression with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Right now?” he asks, surprised. A hopeful, crooked smile spreads over his mouth.

“Mhm.”

“For the first time, you have dumbfounded me, Skylenna. What is going on?” Now he’s the one demanding answers, and I’m the one holding all of the cards. I wonder how frustrating it must be for him. However, he doesn’t look frustrated. Not even slightly. More like he’s intrigued, studying an animal, rare or thought to be extinct.

“I think we both know it’s not the first time.” I hold my eyes to his without blinking, feeling bold.

He leans back in acceptance. “Where would you like to go?”

“You told me you would take me somewhere we could see the stars,” I say quietly, as if people are listening.

He looks down, thinks for a moment, trying not to smile. “And you’re only wanting to leave with me to postpone going home to Aurick.” A switch of moods comes over him.

I let my eyes drop. “I wanted to spend time with you, Dessin.” I’m curious to see how he reacts to what Ruth has taught me about flirtation. I have the urge to do it, but I’m nervous. Nervous he will reject me or call me out. I’m not even sure if Ruth would be deemed an expert on the matter. “I want to spend time with you—alone.” There it is. It crept its way in, despite my concern.

His eyes widen slightly, and his full lips part. He doesn’t say anything. But he stares at me, seemingly at a loss for words. Two long seconds pass, and he nods once.

“It’s 7:01 p.m. They’ve already locked up and forgot to check on you because I’m not even on your schedule at this time. The last to leave are Judas and Martin, but it is Martin’s wife’s birthday, and Judas is deaf in one ear, so even if he is here, he won’t notice us leaving.”

I keep the fact that Judas gave me this idea to myself.

“Let’s see it, mister magician.” A rush of adrenaline spikes through my veins as I realize I’m about to see how he does it, how he escapes the impossible. I know he sees the glint in my eye to learn.

He reaches under his bed, and pulls up a floor panel, swipes an item, and approaches the door. It’s a key. Identical to mine. He made his own.

The ticking and clanking of cogs break the silence, and the door cracks open, releasing a short spurt of air to decompress.

He pulls the door open the rest of the way. “After you.” I tighten my hand around the sides of my dress. Suddenly, the thought of us getting caught niggles at the back of my mind. I’ll be terminated and given federal punishment. Dessin will be publicly executed. What if his death is inevitable? What if I can’t save him?

Dessin flashes his eyes up at me darkly and squints. “If I don’t intend on getting caught, then I won’t,” he says as a matter of fact. “It’s not a hopeful thought. It’s a fact.”

The truth to his words is reassuring. However, his confidence when he speaks is a different level of reassurance. He makes me believe that he can never fail.

When we arrive at the ladder to climb down into the basement, he goes first. Just like last time. I climb down after him. But this time, when I glance down and over my shoulder, I notice him looking away and to his left as he probably has a perfect view up my dress. I get to the third to last step, and he grips my waist hesitantly. I look down at him and smile, nodding my head. He lifts me and sets me down.

“Follow me,” he says, low and rugged.

He lights the lanterns, and we walk down the hall of tunnels for a few yards before we reach a dead end. Another ladder. Another door with a latch. He maneuvers a dagger in the lock, wiggling it around. I place my hand over his forearm. “Will this work?” I hold my hand out with the key resting on my palm.

Genuine, satisfying, unmistakable shock. “Where did you get that?”

I drop it in his hand. “I’m not going to tell you.”

His eyebrows rise.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” I mock.

“I could have broken out without it. But it does make this easier, so I’ll let it pass.” We climb out into a wooded area. The sun has gone down, yet the air is still warm.

He walks over to a thick evergreen tree. Underneath its wilting cover, he pulls out a motorcycle. I’ve seen one once when I was a little girl. But they don’t fit into our society. Only small black buggies with loud engines and bumpy rides.

I stop abruptly, holding a prickly pine tree branch away from my face.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wondering where this bike came from or even about riding one for the first time, but about how your dress might fly up while you’re on it.” He smiles up at me, eyes capturing the deep orange and blue from the sunset like a painting reflecting in the gaze of its artist.

“I mean, it’s fine if you’re okay with a lot of men seeing what’s under this dress.” I smirk, swaying my dress lightly in the breeze.

He looks down at it then back up to meet my eyes. His smile falls. “I’m not.”

Thank you, Ruth. Maybe you are an expert at flirting.

I walk over to the bike and hold my dress down while I throw a leg over. “I’m resourceful.” I tuck the dress across the seat so that he can sit on it.

He eyeballs it cautiously, sits down on my uniform for more assurance. I then see that I need something to hold on to.

I can’t help but take pause at his back. The outline. The indentions of muscle. The wide frame.

Cautiously, as if I’m about to pet a wild animal, I slide my hands around his waist, locking my hands together. The muscles along his stomach are as firm as bone, contracting with each breath he takes. And with that being said, he sighs and drops his head for a moment. I take it he isn’t used to someone touching him, holding him, being close like this.

“Should I be worried we aren’t wearing helmets?” I ask with my chin resting on his shoulder. His build vibrates as he chuckles, and the bike roars to life.

We take off, and the wind pours over my face with density as thick as water.

The sky shadows the earth with darkness and silver clouds. The moonbeams through them, overpowering the earth’s fragile atmosphere. I squeeze his waist tighter as I rest my cheek against his back. I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time. A fantasy slips into my mind, against every ounce of my control. An image of Dessin holding my hand, pressing the back of it to his full lips. Traveling the world on this motorcycle, sleeping under the stars, laughing about inside stories while he holds me in his arms.

I shut my eyes hard. I wish we hadn’t met like this. I wish we had met in a different way.