Nada's Escape

6- Total Enthrallment.

The cold breath of air conditioning is countered by cosy arms snapping around me. I freeze and stagger back a step. Finley's chest presses against mine, warmth radiating through his clothes to me. A hug. This is unexpected. My arms are pinned and a disgusted rage begins to creep in as the shock wears off.

He whispers something unintelligible and secret in my ear, "If only I had been able to help..." I try to dislodge his hug but Finley is immovable. He leans back of his own accord, grabbing my shoulders. I scold myself harshly, fisting my hands, for being so slow and weak. I am so busy being mad at him and myself that I forget to shield my eyes. I glare right into his damned Huntsmen eyes and he stares back, searching and wanting.

A flash shoots up my spine. It's warm like the sparking of light off gold, so different from the parched heat outside. I wriggle my shoulders at the exquisite feeling. That flash delivers feelings, flicking from my head to my toes like the pages of a book. Sadness, for me, tasting like bitter-fresh sage leaves, hope, for the future, the delicate fragrance of yellow frangipani blooms, and something harder to decipher that feels like warm embracing arms. Others follow, some deep and cool, some fleeting and bright like the brush of a hummingbird's wing.

Finley looks away and that warm gold feeling drains away to be replaced by cold, recycled air. That colourful, heady rush of emotions ceases, leaving me dull. My eyes sting and I stagger at the loss.

"I'm sorry," Finley whispers, looking at the lino floor. I blink away the added water from my eyes numbly, adding it up in my head. None of that was real. It was all illusion; part of the Huntsmen enthralment. It felt different though...

I fight through the clouds obscuring my thoughts, focusing on the Huntsmen audacity that I hate. I let disgust burn through my muscles. The Huntsman last night had been good at enthralment but Finley is better. There is no warning and no fighting it if he wants something. In the blink of an eye I can be subjugate.

"Nada. Please..." Finley pleads. But I am past caring, vengeful. The burning rage reaches my chest and taking a quick step forward I measure the likelihood of getting a good punch in before I am set upon by wardens. Finley is barely two steps away and he lessens the gap himself, seeming more worried than careful.

"You're such an arsehole," I hiss and throw myself into motion. I bring up my left fist and stepping forward let it snap towards his face. My hand smacks across his jaw and I instantly wince in pain and disappointment. Damn. The hit is too low; maybe he's grown. Finley winces too and tilts his head up and away, but the rest of him doesn't shift at all.

Like clockwork the door at my back slides open with a hiss and I am yanked back by my hair. I keep my gaze warily on the real threat before me. Finley raises his arms in a gesture of calming or surrender.

"It's okay. I overstepped, Nada lashed out, we're all square now. Right Nada?" He asks facing the wardens. He won't look at me but he doesn't need to. Anyone can hear the supplication in that last question. My rage has barely been sated, I want more blood and yet I'm not a mindless animal. The wardens have me now, meaning my last hit on Finley has already come. There is no way they will give me another shot at my sponsor. So it is a choice between stay or go.

I am gathering the saliva in my mouth to spit at him when his whispered words finally sink into my psyche. If only I had been there to help... Not foil. Not skin me alive. Did he mean help with the escape or my recapture? I've known Finley so long now that I should know how to interpret those words. But Finley remains a mysterious well of patience. So almost to my own surprise I reply civilly.

"We're square." For now.