Ortai Legacy: Arrival

1 - Party (L)

Trigger Warning: Attempted SA

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Liza

My cousin was wrong; no six-foot guy wanted their six-foot-two girlfriend in heels. The disappointment on James's face was hard to miss as he led me upstairs. He wouldn't even look at me until we entered the study—and even then, it was only to glance at me as he left to get drinks.

I sat on the desk and slipped off my heels. Thudding music in the other room drowned out their impact on the carpet. I plopped my hip purse on my lap. The weight was somewhat comforting. Wishing I'd brought earplugs, I bounced my legs to distract myself.

The music stoked my anxiety, but James's displeasure had thrown kindling into the fire. He'd been pestering me about sex for weeks, despite originally claiming to be asexual. Part of me wondered whether our definitions of asexual differed, but a more cynical part was convinced he'd been lying this entire time.

James returned with our drinks—swirling blue and white liquid in faux wine glasses. Sitting next to me, he took a swig from one and offered me the other.

I sniffed my drink, but I must not've been subtle enough, because he frowned.

"It's a mocktail." His eyes flashed for a moment before darting away.

Was he angry? He seemed angry, but my cousin Olivia always told me I was an overthinker.

"Thanks." I sipped my drink. Sweetness stung my tongue, but I appreciated the excuse to keep quiet. If I waited long enough, James would surely explain why he was upset.

After a few minutes, he pushed his dishwater blond hair back from his forehead. It often blocked his eyes, but he'd been growing it out ever since I mentioned liking long hair a few months ago.

"So..." Eyebrows raised, he set his drink down. "You're not still on that ace sh—, right?"

Nursing my drink, I scrambled to form a coherent response. "What- I- it's not-"

"Come on, you're almost nineteen. You can't stay a virgin forever."

I opened my mouth to say that yes, I would like to stay a virgin forever, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I took another sip, hoping it would lubricate my tongue.

James lifted my purse strap over my head and pushed my bag away. I grabbed at it, but my hand moved in slow motion. My purse hit the ground moments before my glass shattered next to it. It was my glass; my hand was empty. I hadn't been this clumsy since I was a kid. Had James really made me that nervous?

"Relax." He squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry about the mess. That's what maids are for."

Shouldn't we try to minimize staining by drying the spill right away? I slipped off the desk with every intention of fetching a towel from the bathroom. My ankle rolled beneath me, depositing me on my hands and knees. My head spun.

James dropped into a crouch. Something grabbed my butt. It couldn't be him, could it? I'd told him not to. He said he'd stop.

I pushed his arm with all the strength of a wet ramen noodle. This wasn't nervousness. Was I drunk? The drink hadn't smelled alcoholic, and James said it wasn't. He wouldn't lie to me about that; he knew my anti-anxiety meds mixed poorly with alcohol.

"I said, relax." James pushed me against the front of the desk.

Legs crumpled beneath me, I tried to lean to the side.

He slammed me against the desk. "Why can't you chill out for five seconds, you prudish b—?"

The room blurred as my temples throbbed. His voice grew distant. Another voice pierced through the haze.

[Great Taivess! Your servant, Mar'kost Vek Tivom, greets you with-] He stopped. [Is this a test, Your Taivess? I'm afraid I don't understand what I'm seeing.]

Wonderful, even my subconscious couldn't figure out what was going on. I pushed James away. He yanked my shirt up past my bra band. Cotton filled my mouth as I struggled to breathe. I needed to move, but lead weights pinned my legs to the floor.

[I see now.] Mar'kost's voice sharpened. [Arkegy may remedy the situation, Your Taivess. Please take mine.]

Cold seared the base of my skull. It shot down my arms, igniting every muscle between my spine and fingertips. I moved to push James away. The back of my hand cracked against his face and sent him reeling.

Cursing, he lunged at me. My legs burned as I jumped to my feet.

He grabbed my calf. "Don't f— with me, b—. Stay-"

I kicked his chest. Another crack rang out as he hit the floor. I stood, shivering, waiting for him to get back up. He didn't. He couldn't stop me. Finally, I could leave. I stepped toward the door.

[Your purse is required for transport,] Mar'kost offered.

Spinning on my heels, I lurched toward my purse and nearly face-planted. As soon as my twitchy fingers grasped the purse strap, I staggered toward the door. The strength that had dragged me to my feet was already fading.

[I'm afraid I can't fuel you for long,] Mar'kost explained as I swayed into the hall. [If I disconnect to gather more arkegy, you'll fall unconscious. You need to find a safe place. The vehicle in your memories—this 'car' I see—should provide refuge.]

Great idea, assuming I could find the front door. First, I had to find the stairs.

[Turn right.]

Leaning on the wall for support, I headed down the hallway. Light sconces blurred into wainscoting, which dripped into the carpet. I reached the stairs, but my depth perception refused to help me navigate them.

[I'm low on arkegy.] Mar'kost's voice sounded distant. [Please allow me to take control for a few moments; I believe I can direct you to your car before our connection breaks.]

Please do.

My legs vaulted downstairs four steps at a time. They carried me down a hall, into a living room dense with party-goers. Music pounded against my eardrums as bodies pressed against me from every side.

I staggered through a foyer and the front door, to where crickets sounded in the swampy night air. Streetlights blurred over countless cars.

Beep. A car door opened. Seats flew up to meet me. Beep. The door locked. I was safe.

[I'm afraid-]