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“Why?” This was becoming stranger by the second. Why kidnap me, then offer me a bottomless spending account?

“Sire’s orders,” he replied with a shrug. “Well, that’s it for me. I’ll come get you in the morning to meet the Sire at his offices. Be ready at ten.”

“Uh…alright,” I managed to croak as he turned to leave.

I watched him go, unsure what to make of what had happened to me since being kidnapped. Eventually, I scanned the keycard and pushed the door open. I was not prepared for what I found inside.

The suite was small but beautiful, with freshly-painted, neutral-coloured walls, engineered wood floors, and tasteful artwork. The foyer had a closet and a coat rack, and it opened onto a cozy living room with a stone fireplace and a soft-looking sofa and chairs. There was an open-concept kitchen with a double oven and an island. On the left hand side were doors that I assumed led to a bedroom and bathroom. There were screens built into the walls—one in the kitchen, one in the living room, and one next to me in the foyer.

Perhaps the strangest detail of all was the two windows on the far wall, which looked onto an outdoor scene at night. I could only assume they were projections intended to distract me from the fact that I was so far underground that it made a pit open in the bottom of my stomach.

I cautiously wandered to one of the doors on the right-hand wall and peered inside. The bedroom was larger than I would’ve expected, and luxurious, with a large four-poster bed, a large screen embedded in the wall across from the bed, and an enormous walk-in closet. The bathroom was similarly large, with a tub deep enough for soaking and a free-standing shower. Both rooms were decorated in soft colours, with high-end finishings and sleek fabrics.

Feeling slightly light-headed, I sat on the cold floor of the bathroom, still wearing nothing but John’s white t-shirt over my swimsuit. I folded my hands in my lap, my wedding ring catching the light, and I stared at it. It didn’t seem possible that less than a day ago, I’d been with him on the beach, sunbathing and swimming and making love on the sand. The thought made me clutch my ring tightly against the swirl of grief inside me.

Because the truth was, as familiar as my surroundings felt, I hated them now. The lights felt too bright, and the décor was too stylized, too deliberate, not homey like Summerhurst. I couldn’t even look outside and see the real world, and the fire in the fireplace I’d seen was fake. When I examined the shower, I realized it was programmable, and as a result, it had so many settings that I had no idea how to even turn it on.

I wondered if all my experiences at the Delta were going to be like this: familiar yet strangely alien at the same time. In an odd way, I’d have been less unsettled if they’d simply thrown me in a cell, like I’d expected. To be kidnapped and then treated to luxury was somehow more frightening. It muddled their intentions and confused and overwhelmed me.

Finally, I managed to get the shower running, but not before I’d nearly scalded myself. The shower stall had three different spouts on the tiled wall, and according to the programmable screen, each dispensed the user’s choice of shampoo, conditioner, and soap. It took me a few minutes to successfully choose one of each from the program. Who uses this every time? I thought incredulously. What need is this filling?

Being clean did make me feel marginally better…until I realized I had nothing to wear. Not even pyjamas. I wandered into the bedroom in a towel, feeling oddly exposed even though I was alone. I stepped into the closet, wondering if me being completely naked was part of the humiliation they intended for me in the morning.

Instead, my jaw nearly hit the floor. The closet was full of women’s clothing—everything from casual clothes and loungewear to formal and professional wear. There were even shoes and a dressing table covered with cosmetics. But nothing could have prepared me for the realization that all of the clothing was in the size I’d worn at the Cave. This closet had been prepared, curated for me by someone unknown. And they knew far more about me than I did about them.

A strange sense of violation and revulsion filled me. I covered my mouth, an automatic reaction to my horror. It’s just a closet, I tried to tell myself, breathing deeply. Maybe it was just a lucky guess on the sizing. But based on everything I knew about compounds, I didn’t really believe that. Learning how premeditated this abduction had been was terrifying.

I decided to try to sleep, though it might be a futile effort, because I needed rest to face whatever was coming the next morning. I selected a nightgown from the closet and got into the big, squishy bed. The gown was slightly big on me now; a year and a half of hard living and farm work had made me physically fitter than I’d been when I lived at the Cave. Just one of the many ways I’d changed since the last time I was inside a compound.

What troubled me most was that I didn’t think I could go back to the woman I’d been before, even if I tried pretending for the sake of self-preservation. Her world was so small, so shallow, and in retrospect, I could recognize that she’d been deeply unhappy, in a quiet sort of way. The person I’d been back then would never have complained about her life; in fact, she’d probably have defended it as the best she could expect, given the state of the world. But I’d learned since then that no illusion of security could replace love, freedom, or family. The only reason I’d clung so desperately to the sad, grey little life I’d had was because I’d never known anything else.

I tossed and turned and missed my bed back at home. It was big, and old, and I could feel John’s slightest movement during sleep, but it was ours. After a night shift as an outrider, he often got into bed cold from outside, waking me with icy kisses on the back of my neck, and when I made a squawk of outrage, he merely laughed and snuggled closer, spooning me. Fortunately, he always heated up so quickly that I didn’t have much time to complain, and eventually, his warm bulk and gentle touch soothed me back to sleep.

Tears pricked in my eyes, and I knew then that sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Chapter 5

Claire

After a mostly sleepless night, I got up and made myself an omelet from the eggs and vegetables stocked in the fridge. The eggs were bio-engineered and tasted different to me now, having had real eggs every day on the farm. Not terrible, just less flavourful. It was just another example of the strange push-pull happening inside of me, where everything felt familiar and yet unbelievably foreign at the same time.

I chose a solid blue dress from the closet, only because it was my favourite colour. It reminded me of the cloak John had given me for my birthday, and I needed some of his strength to face whatever was waiting for me. Though I normally only wore minimal amounts of makeup at home, I put it on because it was expected in the compound—or at least, it had been at the Cave. After that, I waited until Major Hamilton knocked at the door and escorted me to the tenth level and into a sleek, stylish office suite. It didn’t escape my notice that there were several armed men at the entrance, and two more inside the waiting area. A blonde, middle-aged receptionist sat at the computer terminal, and she greeted us with a bland, professional smile as we approached.

“Claire Ainsley, here as requested,” Hamilton said.

“Indeed,” the receptionist replied, with a nod in my direction. “Welcome, Ms. Ainsley. The Sire will be with you in a few moments. Please have a seat.”

“This is where I leave you for now,” Hamilton said to me when I did as I was told. “I’ll return when the Sire calls me and take you back to your suite.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Sitting in this cold, impersonal waiting room made it all feel much more real, and I clasped my hands together to stop them from trembling. The Major left, and I waited in silence, feeling as though I was at my own execution.

Several minutes later, the receptionist stood and motioned for me to follow her down a hallway. We walked to the door at the end, which was already open. She stuck her head in and said, “Claire Ainsley for you, sir.”

I took a few steps into the room, which was divided into two spaces: a small sitting area, where I now stood, and a grand office with an enormous mahogany desk and shelves that mostly held decorative objects. The desk held a computer terminal with multiple monitors, and behind it, in a large executive chair, sat a man who looked to be mid-fifties with short brown hair that was silvering at the temples. He wore a tailored, expensive-looking suit, and he looked up from his screen and gave me a polite smile.

“Welcome, Ms. Ainsley,” he said, then nodded at his secretary to leave. She closed the door behind her, and I suddenly felt caged in. “Have a seat.”

Trying once again to hide how much I was shaking, I did as he asked, perching on the edge of a chair on the opposite side of his desk.