Elude

Living is Worse Than Dying

We look around the office. Nobody there. We walk over to a door on the opposite side of the room and Jace opens it. Matthew is standing at his mirror with a comb in his hand.

"Do you mind?" he asks without looking away from his reflection. He runs the comb through his hair a few more times before setting it down.

I'm about to ask about removing the illusion, but I realize I'm not supposed to know about it. Having to brush my hair every day does sound like a pain, though.

There's a tiny bit of blood on his shirt and I wince. Jace looks down at his watch.

"Great," he says. "Someone needs me." He leaves the room and moments later, I hear the elevator doors open and close. I wait a few minutes before speaking just to be sure he's gone.

"I want the illusion removed," I say. "Is that possible?"

"I think so. Another way to get rid of it is leaving, but that takes a little longer."

"I'm going to guess you weren't supposed to tell me about that," I say.

He shrugs. "I don't think I am. I've never asked, though. I suppose if you told anyone it would be easy for Jace to erase the memory, but it'd be a pain for him."

"Do you think my hair would be a mess?" I ask.

"That's what you care about?" he says in disbelief. "Yeah, that would actually be one of my priorities. The answer is maybe, though. Or at least nothing a shampoo and brush couldn't fix."

"Shampoo might be the dumbest word I've ever heard and I have no clue what it means," I say.

"It's how people wash their hair," he says. "And yes, you have to wash hair."

"So this is your room," I say, changing the subject. "Why are there straps on your bed? What if you want a drink?"

"Then I have to call Jace," he says. "So I just stay thirsty."

"It's a big bed," I observe. "You can move a little bit. If I roll over in the night then I fall off."

He nods. "So," he says. "I'm actually not too excited to be able to take the illusion off. What if you're someone I hate?"

"Then chances are you don't actually hate me," I say. "Please, it'll be fine. Do you hate any eighteen year olds?"

"No," he admits. "What if you're not eighteen?"

"You're just being stupid," I say as Jace steps into the room and I flinch.

"You told her, didn't you?" he accuses. "Why her of all the officers?"

"Maybe I was drunk," he says.

Jace relaxes. "That explains it. She hasn't told anyone, has she?"

"No," I say. "Why would I?"

Matthew walks over to Jace and whispers something. "Oh," Jace says.
"Yeah, I'll take it off once you get back in your room. You'll need temporary clothes, and a bunch of other things. It'll be by when you get there."

"Thanks," I say.

"Does she know about everything?"
Jace asks.

"Pretty much," Matthew replies. "I'll tell you later?"

Jace nods. "Go back down to your room, I'll send things down in the chute soon."

I return back to the room and look in my mirror. My face changes slightly and my hair is up in a messy bun. I still have black hair and green eyes.

I hear a noise as my stuff tumbles down the chute. I take my hair down. After about half an hour of brushing it looks presentable, then I take a shower.

I get changed then try to video call Matthew. Jace picks up, and I hear a soft moan from the background. He sees who it is and hangs up.

I toss my tablet onto my bed and leave the room. Instead of waiting for a train to come by, I turn right. I pass the pool, and find the elevator leading up to Matthew's office and the control room.

I place my hand on the scanner and the doors slide open. Instead of going up to Matthew's office, I decide to go to the control room. Jace will be furious if I walk in the office.

Moments later, I enter the control room. It's huge, and filled with buttons and levers and screens. This and the office are both soundproof, but I don't think the floor is. That means I can hear what's going on down there.

Surely enough, there's a pained scream. What follows isn't a whip sound, but it sounds more like a zap. Then comes a muffled sob. Two pairs of footsteps from down there lead to the elevator and I panic.

I look around, but there aren't many places to hide. I duck under a counter right by the elevator, since he's least likely to see me.

The doors open and both Matthew and Jace step out. Jace shoves Matthew to the ground and steps over to the video intercom system.

"Get over here," Jace says. "Try to look alive. And stop bleeding."

Matthew lifts his head up and a trickle of blood is running out of his mouth. "That's kind of hard," he says, but wipes his face. He gets up and limps over, his limp more exaggerated than normal.

Jace glares at him. "You're hopeless," he says and gets in the elevator. "Don't leave, I'll be back in a few hours."

The elevator goes down and Matthew says miserably, "I know you're here. " I get out from under the counter and stand up. He has a black eye and a bloody nose.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I've learned," he says viciously. "That you can't fight back when it comes to Jace. You just have to sit there and take it like an animal. Because of mistakes I made over ten years ago. Because of things I did when I had no other choice."

"We could kill him and cut off his hand," I say. "That could get us out."

He shakes his head. "That would be too nice for him. Often times living is worse than dying."

**Author's Note**

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