Angela led John through the fortress corridors, holding his hand. Her thumb moved back and forth across his knuckles as she hummed under her breath. She seemed almost weightless, practically skipping as they walked.
They stopped before a pair of double doors at the end of the hall. Angela pushed them open, revealing the master suite.
The room was lavish. Crimson curtains framed the windows, gold trim lined the walls, and a four-poster bed dominated the center. In the far corner, steam rose from a marble bath scented with lavender and expensive oils.
Angela guided him inside and shut the doors behind them.
"This is our room now," she said, turning to him. "Our home."
John gave her a small smile.
"It's beautiful."
But his attention had already shifted to the windows and doors, contemplating the possibility of getting through either one.
Angela crossed the room to check the bath. She tested the water, added a handful of salts, then turned back to him, almost bursting with excitement.
John watched her calmly, acting out his role perfectly. He needed an escape, and he couldn't afford a mistake.
While Angela busied herself with the bath, he searched through Ethan's remaining memories.
There had to be something useful: a weakness or anything he could exploit.
Eventually, he found it.
Euphoria-inducing substances. House Crimson kept a private supply of recreational drugs and spiritual suppressants. Ethan had used them as a way to pass time, which more often than not led to a tragic series of events for the people in his way.
John felt sick.
The more he learned about Ethan's past, the more he understood why the man had been despised. But disgust wouldn't help him now.
Survival over sentiment, he reminded himself.
He dug further into Ethan's memories, this time looking for information about Angela's abilities.
She had gravity affinity as well as an enormous amount of ether, though not on the same level as his; at the same time, unlike him, she was able to use it.
Angela was at the Manifest stage. Her affinity allowed her to sense disturbances in the space around her through the movement of ether. If she released her ether while they were alone together, it could expose him when he tried to leave. He wouldn't be able to hide his intentions, let alone slip past her unnoticed.
He needed her to seal her ether, but he needed her to remove his chains first.
The plan began to take shape.
Angela returned from the bath wearing an almost transparent silk robe. Her cheeks were flushed, and she smiled at him as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
John gestured toward the bed.
"Come sit with me."
She hurried over and settled beside him, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Angela," he said, lowering his voice. "I've missed this. I've missed us."
She sighed.
"Oh, Ethan..."
John leaned closer and brushed a finger down the bridge of her nose.
"Do you remember the things we used to do back in the capital? Those nights we spent together?"
Her eyes widened.
"You remember?"
"How could I forget?" He forced a warmth into his voice that he didn't feel.
"I was thinking... maybe we could do that again. Tonight. For old times' sake."
Angela stared at him, barely containing her excitement. For years, she'd wanted to hear those words. Now that they had finally come, she seemed almost afraid they might disappear if she moved.
She studied his face for a moment.
"You're being strange tonight, Ethan."
John's expression didn't change.
"I've been told."
Angela giggled, apparently satisfied with his answer, and quickly summoned a servant through the speaking tube beside the door.
"Bring the special reserves to the master suite. Now."
A few minutes later, someone knocked. A silver tray appeared outside the door, and Angela retrieved it herself.
It held several crystal vials, packets of iridescent powder, and a handful of pills. Ethan's old favorites.
Angela picked up one and swallowed it. Then she took another and offered it to John.
"Here, my love."
He accepted it.
As she looked down, he brought the pill toward his mouth, then slipped it beneath the folds of the blanket.
She didn't notice.
The effects began to show within minutes. Angela's gaze lost its focus, and her expression softened. She remained conscious, but the alertness that usually made her dangerous was fading.
John watched her carefully.
Good. He leaned closer.
"Angela..."
"Hmm?"
"You know I love it when you're vulnerable. When you're entirely mine."
She nodded, her head resting against his chest.
"Yes... I'm yours."
"Then seal your ether for me. Just for tonight. I want to be close to you without anything getting in the way... I want us to connect in our most pure form."
For a moment, she hesitated.
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head.
John paused.
"Because I want to feel you without anything separating us."
She studied him for another moment, her eyes searching his face.
"You're really, really strange tonight..."
"Don't you trust me?"
Her features relaxed, and she nodded.
"I trust you..."
Angela drew her ether inward. The pressure that naturally surrounded her disappeared as she sealed her internal pathways.
John felt the difference at once.
Her gravity affinity could no longer sense the disturbances caused by ether moving around her. With her own ether suppressed, her awareness of the surrounding space weakened considerably.
She had lowered her guard while He stroked her hair.
"Good girl."
Then he shifted on the mattress.
The manacles around his wrists struck the bed frame with a metallic clank.
Angela looked down.
"Angela, these chains are uncomfortable."
She blinked. "They are?"
"They hurt. And I can't even hold you properly with them on."
He lowered his eyes, letting his voice falter.
"Could you take them off?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Even through the haze, some part of her understood what he was asking. Unchaining a prisoner was a risk, no matter who that prisoner happened to be.
"I... I don't know."
John leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
"Don't you want to be close to me? Really close? Without anything between us?"
Her hesitation faded.
"Yes... I want that."
She reached toward the bedside table. The dungeon keys lay beside a lamp, tossed there without much thought.
Her fingers fumbled with the ring before finally catching it.
Click.Click.
The chains dropped to the rug.
John rubbed his wrists, feeling the blood return to his hands. He kept his expression gentle, though relief washed through him.
"Thank you, Angela."
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"Anything for you, my love."
The rest of the night dragged on.
Angela drifted between wakefulness and sleep. At times, she giggled at things that weren't there. At others, she clung to John as though letting go would make him disappear.
John endured it.
He stroked her hair, whispered whatever she wanted to hear, and maintained the illusion that he was happy to be there.
All the while, he watched the moonlight move across the curtains.
At one point, Angela stirred and lifted her head from his chest.
"Ethan?"
"Hmm?"
"You're not going to leave me again, are you?"
John looked down at her.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
"Not tonight."
She smiled, seemingly satisfied, and buried her face against him again.
John stared at the ceiling.
Wow, he thought, staring at the canopy above him as Angela pressed a wandering kiss against his collarbone.
I'm lying in bed with the psychotic ex-fiancée of the man I am possessing, pretending to be madly in love with her while she's high out of her mind. And I'm supposed to break out of her family's fortress.
[When you put it like that, it does sound kind of exciting; in fact, you are like a visionary. You should write a memoir. "How to Manipulate Your Psychotic Ex-Girlfriend While Breaking Out of Prison." Absolute bestseller material.]
Please stop talking.
[No. I'm having the time of my life. This is very entertaining, minion; keep up the good work.]
Angela shifted against him and kissed his neck, a little harder than necessary. John winced as her teeth sank into his skin.
Yep. Fun.
The hours passed.
Gradually, the darkness beyond the windows gave way to the grey light of dawn. Angela's movements slowed until she finally fell asleep, her breathing settling into a steady rhythm.
John waited for good measure.
He shifted slightly, testing whether she would wake, and the answer was she didn't.
Carefully, he lifted her arm from his chest and eased himself out of bed. He pulled the blanket over her shoulders before standing.
His wrists were sore, and his body ached from spending the night in the same position. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers.
Then he looked toward the doors.
John took a deep breath.
It was time to find Raven and Lea.