Grim Echoes

Chapter 30 - Maeve

"Can we look around?" Maeve looked at Ander shyly and remembered Will's stern warning not to wander because of security.

Ander shifted in his seat and scanned the room like someone could see him. Did Mason have cameras in there? Given what little she knew about her, it seemed possible. Maeve found it odd how reserved he'd been since she woke. He was still Ander, but a faded version of himself.

"No. Mason does not like unfamiliar people exploring her keep," he replied with a down-turned mouth, and kept playing with his knife.

Her keep? Did Mason really call it her keep? Will had admitted they were in Baltimore, but where? There weren't any windows, so Maeve had no ability to judge the time of day or even where the sun was. More like a prisoner by the minute, she'd only seen this room, a bathroom, Will's bedroom and a bunch of concrete hallways. Maeve didn't have a death wish, but being trapped in what seemed one room and only being told the bare minimum grated on her nerves. Maeve stood and paced the room and casted a mournful glance at the door. If she tried to leave, would she be able to find her way out? The concrete hallways all looked identical, probably on purpose. Even if she did manage to find the door, then what?

She turned and glared at Ander, he'd fix this, wouldn't stay trapped like a rat with no information. She understood it wasn't his fault, he'd followed orders, but it didn't improve her mood. Maeve stomped to the table and smacked her hands down on the surface. He winced like she hit him and gripped the handle of his knife and stopped its motion.

A blurry image of an imposing man with light hair and stormy gray eyes stood over Ander, his fist in the air assaulted her mind. Her chest ached as the wind was knocked out of her. She stumbled back a step, the pain from the memory now fresh. Tears pricked her eyes. Of course, she hadn't understood the reference at the time, but as she gazed at Ander, it was obvious to her. Maeve immediately sat in the chair so she didn't loom above him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't." she paused. "I didn't think." Her hand slowly slid to his that held the knife, conscious when his jaw tightened and his arm grew stiff. She placed her hand on his arm. 

He breathed out long and slow, his shoulders and arms relaxed.

"I guess I'm no good at being captive."

It'd only been three days since their souls mingled, but since she woke there, the images were blurred and distant, fading as they always did. Partly comforted; it was too much to be herself and feel like them simultaneously. But for the first time, a tiny part of her missed the emotions. In the past she was glad for the connection to dull. When she'd walked away just before the angel appeared, she'd looked forward to the eventual haze. Typically after three days all the images, sounds and moments became more like an echo that occasionally surfaced but it was more a general impression of someone.

"You are not being held here, this is for your protection."

He believed his words. She nodded. No point in debating it with him. Doubtful it would do any good. They sat in silence for some time. Her stomach growled with hunger.

"Do you want something to eat?" his voice gentle.

She nodded. Ander put his knife on the table and hesitated before he pulled his arm away. Tucking his knife away, he stood and went to the door.

"I will be right back," he paused, "this is for your protection." he closed the door.

A mechanical lock triggered and locked her in. She drummed her fingers against the surface of the table and rolled her eyes. Their idea of protection was too close to keeping a prisoner. Ander returned with two sandwiches, half a bag of chips, two bananas and bottles of water tucked up his arms. He placed the food on the table and then returned to close the door again. She glanced at the food. There was some type of kitchen somewhere. Definitely a refrigerator because when he put the bottles on the table there were cold.