The Girl Called Red

Chapter 16.

"Breaking news, over the course of one night, several prominent members of charities such as 'YouthPowerNow' and 'Refugee, Refu-free' have died. Of the 7 deceased, 5 of them died from seemingly natural causes while one - Sir Nathaniel White - was found tortured horribly and the other - Mr Pietro Agosturi - was burned to death. The occurrence of these events over one night has lead to a serious investigation by national authorities. We would like to hold a minute silence now for these seven great men and women who have given their lives to such great causes as they have done."

The snort that left my nose caused Anastasia to let out a squeal.

James barely moved an inch.

I believe I would have looked an interesting sight, arms and clothes covered in blood that was not mine, dried blood caked into the ends of my hair.

It always gets in the hair.

"Get any sleep last night Scarlett?" James asked as I strode past them and the small TV they were watching. Sweat was drying against my forehead as I wiped my wet arm against it.

The smell began to leak into my nose, causing a throaty groan as I slammed myself into the bathroom, eager to rinse the blood off my skin.

A deep snicker escaped from my throat. The news broadcast was mistaken. The "charities" that they were "key members" of were not what they led the world to believe. Instead they worked in a more ironic way when the cameras were not around.

And those that allowed rumours come to the surface of their true causes usually died, even when they tried to be anonymous.

The anonymity just allowed for them not to be linked with the 'charities'.

The door frame groaned as weight leaned against it. James had followed me into the bathroom. Arms crossed, watching as blood began to remove itself from my hair under the burning water. 

"I do not have time for sleep, I have other things to do."

The tainted water swirled around the basin of the sink once, twice, before turning to a light pinkish colour and disappearing into the drain pipes below.

I had the urge to scrub the top layer of my skin off with a metal scourer but that would not wash away all of the blood... Nothing would.

"Everyone needs sleep," He handed me a towel from the rack and shook it. Probably to ensure there was no dust on it, or a perhaps a tick. "Even you,"

A sarcastic snort left my body.

Sleep is not a luxury I can afford. Every connection I have in America is in danger. I need to keep the focus on myself and not them.

"You should shower. I can cook up some breakfast and coffee for you while you do." James attempted to be helpful, but the idea of food made my empty stomach become heavy.

"Thank you." came out in a low, heavy whisper. James stepped closer towards me.

He kept moving closer and closer until I had myself firmly pressed up against the sink basin and his body was hovering so close I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

"You don't want me to touch you, do you?"

I could not find the strength to move or speak. All I could feel was the charged distance between us.

But it was not horrible.

Even though he was so close, he did not touch me.

His warm breath fanned my face as he closed his eyes. His forehead moved closer to mine, stopping until it felt like a tickle on my skin; yet he was 'a hair's width' from me.

"Maybe I should get you one of those thick full body suits. Just so I can touch your forehead."

A small chuckle pulled its way out of my throat, which caused a grin to light up on his face.

My skin tickled with a real touch as soft, yet chapped lips brushed gently across my forehead.

All too soon he pulled away and my cold skin pulled back in on itself.

But there was an odd warmth on the inside.

A spark that had not been there before...

Or if it had, it had been gone for a long time.

PRINTING TRANSCRIPT...

FEMALE: NEWS?

MALE: THERE'S A LOT OF TALK IN THE DARK. THEY'RE SCRAMBLING AND
UPPING SECURITY DETAILS. THEY KNOW THE DEAD WERE
TORTURED FOR INFORMATION.

UNINTELLIGIBLE NOISE FROM FEMALE.

MALE: THEY KNOW YOU'RE WORKING YOUR WAY UP A BRANCH THAT
SEEMS TO DEAL IN SOMETHING THEY DON'T EVEN WANT TO NAME.

FEMALE: THEY ARE USING PSYCHICS AND POSSIBLY OTHERS TO BREED.

MALE: EXCUSEZ-MOI MON BELLE, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

FEMALE: HAVE YOU FOUND THE CHILD FROM THE NIGHT OF THE CHARITY
BALL?

MALE: I'M GETTING CLOSER MON CHERI. THEY ARE GOOD AT COVERING
THEIR TRACKS; BUT FOR YOU, I WILL FIND THEM. STAY SAFE
SCARLET.

FEMALE: JACQUES?

MALE: OUI MON BELLE?

FEMALE: CALL ME RED NOW.

MALE: OUI.

FEMALE: FAREWELL JACQUES.

ELECTROMAGNETIC INTERFERENCE DETECTED. UNABLE TO TRACE CALL.

A voice pulled its way out of the darkness. It's feminine tone piercing the silence.

"It's the little lamb."

"What would you like us to do, ma'am?"

"Set the trap. Our little Americans shall take the fall. That is, if the little lamb still cares for the death of the young."

"Are you sure we can spare the boy? His DNA is integral to-"

"She saves them then deserts them. He will not be lost for long."

"He is still young. The delay may actually help and allow us to consider and experiment ways of accelerating his puberty on less important subjects until he is able to produce viable speciemens."

"Indeed. Then we shall take him home. Where no one will find him."