We both nod and she loops her arm around mine, taking the lead. Aran keeps a pace behind as we follow a meandering path through the greenhouse. Blooming flowers, tall trees and colorful bushes surround us, beautiful and sweet-smelling. I spot various butterflies fluttering around too, but I lose interest in them rather quickly as the moon appears above the vaulted glass ceiling and covers everything in a sheen of silvery light.
It’s magical, as if we’ve been transported into a fairy tale and are about to stumble upon a wild ball. The pond to our left shimmers under the caress of the moon, and just beyond it, situated between two trees, is a carved wooden door.
“Very few know about this place,” Mrs. Lynx says, stroking my forearm.
Is that true though, considering how many people we estimated might be in attendance? This is an exclusive event, so the majority would be top VIPs and their PAs, not regular staff or those rich motherfuckers who didn’t make the cut, so I guess she has a point.
“I’m very excited,” I tell her, not lying.
I’m buzzing, because this feels like ten steps forward all at once. Aran is with me too, so I won’t have to worry about anything—at the smallest sign of danger, I’m sure he’ll go Rambo mode for me.
“So am I, dear. I’ve been wanting to invite you to one of my inner parties for a while. Everyone has been asking about you.” She approaches the door and opens a covered panel, where she enters a password and scans her retina. With a soft click and a whoosh, the middle of the carved wood splits, both parts disappearing to the sides and into the two trunks. “I’m sure you will love it. After you.”
A spiraling staircase awaits us on the other side, illuminated by fake sconces. Real ones would be a fire hazard, so I understand why they’ve opted for replicas that run on electricity. We descend maybe two levels before we reach a gilded door that Mrs. Lynx opens for us. I’ve kind of lost my sense of direction, so I am not entirely sure where we are other than somewhere at the back of the ship.
The narrow corridor decorated with blue fairy lights leads us to a busy parlor. People with crystal glasses in their hands have occupied the love seats and couches that are tucked against the white walls, talking agitatedly between themselves. In the middle of the space in an empty cage with a dozen cushions, and while I don’t judge people’s tastes, it strikes me as a little odd in terms of interior design. But what do I know about the trends among the upper class? Maybe it’s an art installation like the Greek archways and columns scattered around the room, and its bars, ceiling, and floor are made of platinum. I’ve also read that precious metals can be a safer way to store your wealth than currencies, so it’s two birds with one stone, really.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Mr. Lynx sighs wishfully next to me as we pause next to the cage and she reaches out to touch it. She’s taken her mask off, just like the rest of her visitors, some of which I vaguely recognize, but not really. “It was custom-made and we don’t go anywhere without it.”
I mouth an ‘Oh’which makes her giggle. “It’s yours? And you take it with you when you travel?” That sounds like a ton of trouble to me, but maybe the cage carries some sentimental value to her and Mr. Lynx. “Isn’t it inconvenient?”
“Nothing is inconvenient when you can afford it, dear. But, ah, as I thought, you are curious about it, then?”
The cage? I mean, it’s just a fancy cage, not exactly exciting. But not wanting to be rude, I inspect it again, faking a bit more enthusiasm into my voice when I speak next. “Of course. It’s very, um, intriguing. I’ve seen cages before, of course, but nothing comes close.”
My words seem to please her as her smile grows. “Let’s show Mong to the bar and grab something to drink. I have to say hi to a few people, but then I’ll introduce you to my friends. They have prepared a special gift for you.”
A gift? But they don’t even know me…
“That’s so nice of them. I wonder what it might be!”
We cross into the next room hand in hand, greeting various people as we pass by them. And there are lots of them, like a third of the ship’s VIPs have decided to be here tonight. It tells me this is no ordinary party, but even as I rack my brain, I can’t figure out how just yet.
I’ve also not seen Eleanor, and I doubt she’d be missing something like this. As Mrs. Lynx’s PA, she must be the one who organized it, and now that I think about it, considering the scale of this thing, maybe that’s why I couldn’t get in touch with her—she was too busy making sure everything was ready for tonight.
The strange way Mrs. Lynx reacted when we last spoke about Eleanor pops into my mind. I need to follow up on that, but without making it blatantly obvious that I am fishing for something. As we reach the round marble bar situated in the middle of the crowded lounge, I suddenly have an idea.
Discreetly, I give Aran the thumbs up as he takes his place behind the counter and begins preparing drinks for us. He spins bottles in the air, tosses ice from across the counter into the glasses and in no time gathers a small group of interested guests. It’s like he’s done this his entire life, and he’s so good at it that even the other bartenders pause what they are doing in order to watch him.
Pride buds inside me. He’s amazing, the best. He can do anything. An urge to hug him almost blows my cover, but I grind my teeth down and resist it. Once we are back in our cabin, we’ll cuddle to my heart’s content. We’ll do some other things too, I guarantee it, because I’m nothing if not resourceful when I get horny.
“Mrs. Lynx. Hex,” Aran says in his deep bass, smiling flirtatiously as he slides the two glasses to us. “Your drinks. I based each on your personality and what I have observed about your preferences. I hope you enjoy them.”
Knowing myself, this can be bad news. I am too awesome to be contained in a drink, but I won’t lie—it also intrigues me how Aran sees me.
I lift the blue-tinted drink and sniff it before taking a sip. There is a hint of blueberry and kiwi which persist in the taste too. The tonic he’s added gives the drink a lovely fizz alongside the tinge of bitterness, while the slices of orange at the bottom enhance it with tang and sweetness as the ice slowly crushes them.
My heart gallops as I swallow the delicious concoction. It’s refreshing, but the combination of contrasts also keeps me on the edge, as I don’t know what to expect from the aftertaste. It could be sweet, or bitter, or sour, or a combination of all three. I take a moment and tune in to my taste buds while Mrs. Lynx tries her drink, aw-ing and oh-ing in appreciation.
There is a little bit of everything in the aftertaste, a fusion of the drink’s core elements. It makes me thirsty for more and so I take another sip and then another until there is nothing left. I don’t even realize it at first, but as I stare at my empty glass, my already frantic pulse skyrockets into something wild.
Is this how Aran sees me then? As something he can’t get enough of? Electricity races all across my skin, prickly and pleasant. I’m suddenly on the best rollercoaster of my life, my stomach doing somersaults while my heart tries to beat out of my chest. Aran adores me. I think I’m going to pass out.
“Hex.” His hand gathers mine firmly, as if he doesn’t want to let go. I twist my head at Mrs. Lynx, letting out a sigh of relief as I realize she’s too busy moaning at her drink to notice our intimate moment. “I’ll probably be stuck here for a while, but I’ll slip out the first chance I get. Please, be careful and don’t go anywhere alone with her.”
The growly quality to his voice engulfs me in a pleasant chokehold. I don’t want to separate from him either, but I don’t think we have a choice. We need to play our parts at least until people stop paying attention or they might figure out we aren’t here simply to enjoy the party.
“I’ll try, but I think it’s fine? She said she wanted to introduce me to some friends, so it doesn’t sound like we’ll be alone…”
