Page 7

7

Hex

The gilded corridor leads to an elevator which takes us to one of the lower levels. After a short walk via a similar hallway, we end up in an amphitheater-type vaulted room. Stained glass characterizes the ceiling, depicting mythological murals. The walls on three sides are solid, graced with Greek columns and protruding ornamental patterns, while the fourth side that spans the ship’s outer edge is thick glass. I’ve seen nothing like it. The ocean is right there on the other side, dark and mysterious.

Tables are scattered across the marble floor in a semi-circle formation around an elevated platform where an orchestra is playing classical music. It’s a famous piece that I feel like I should recognize but can’t. Mr. and Mrs. Lynx hum in rhythm to it as we descend the bifurcated stairs, nodding and saying curt hello-s to the guests.

None of them wear masks. And when we reach a table tucked by a domesticated cypress tree, my two companions get rid of theirs, too.

“Finally, I can take this vile thing off,” Mrs. Lynx says, flicking heavy blond locks of hair off her shoulder as he places the mask in the small box that came with the table. It sits next to the red herbal-scented candle.

Flashing her a smile, I study her face. Wrinkles are visible here and there, but there are a lot less of them than I expected. Her skin is generally smooth with an occasional hint that she’s past her prime, and her blue eyes are bright. The same is also true for Mr. Lynx, though he’s not so lucky to have all his hair intact. I suppose that even though they must be very rich, science isn’t so advanced as to let you buy youth yet.

Despite the good look that I get at my companions, I’ve no idea who they might be. I’m terrible with faces like that. Some I can recognize, of course—like my favorite actors or singers and close friends—but the rest? Not a chance in hell.

It’s no surprise then that as I pretend to take the room in so I can quickly scope out our neighboring tables, I don’t recognize anyone.

Ugh. If Aran was here, he’d know who these people are just after a quick glance. But he’s not. It’s all up to me to make this work.

A twinge of panic rushes through me as the noise and chatter close in on. I am on my own and it’s a little scary, but I just focus on Aran’s words from earlier, take a deep breath and let it all simply pass through me.

It’s okay, Hex. You got this. You might not be able to place the faces, but you are creative. You have other ways to figure out who they are… if you have the time. Focus on charming the Lynxes for now, and worry about the rest later.

“I love your make-up, Mrs. Lynx. The blue-green eyeshadow really makes your eyes pop,” I say, accepting the glass of wine she poured for me.

I pretend to take a sip, almost gagging just from the liquid touching my lips. Alcohol really isn’t my thing, and wine is the worst offender by far. Aran drinks, but it’s mostly whiskey, gin or sake, and he knows better than to offer me.

“Thank you, sweetie. It has to be touched up every three hours, but the result is absolutely worth it.” She preens, stroking the fat pearls decorating the necklace she’s wearing. It must cost a fortune, but then again, the guests on this cruise are used to owning a few of those.

I take another pretend-sip, regretting the decision immediately. “Do you do it yourself?”

She giggles and waves her hand at me. “Of course not! My stylist and my assistant help me.”

Oh? I thought the only passengers other than the staff were the billionaires. “You and Mr. Lynx brought people with you?”

She raises her hand to get the waiter’s attention. A golden three-tiered bracelet dangles around her thin wrist, glinting under the soft light of the crystal chandelier that hangs above our table. “We don’t go anywhere without our servants.”

Interesting. I wasn’t aware the guests were allowed to bring extras. For security reasons, amongst others, since this is supposed to be a super-secret VIP cruise, so evil people can make evil plans.

Scoping the room once again while Mrs. Lynx orders our dinner, I look for anyone out of place. If the Lynxes have their ‘servants’ with them, then the others probably do, too. It might be something I can exploit.

Unfortunately, I don’t spot anyone who doesn’t belong. All the remaining tables have the right number of people, who look like the secret kings and queens of the world. I have a feeling that servants aren’t allowed here, and that makes sense. Still, they would be a goldmine for info if I could get close to one and convince them to spill their employer’s dirty secrets.

Would that be easy? Hell no. These people are probably getting paid an obscene amount of money to ensure their allegiances remain with their bosses. But I’m sure that with Aran’s help—and the right kind of motivation—we can make them talk.

“I, uh, need to go to the bathroom,” I say sweetly.

Mrs. Lynx smiles at me. “Of course, dear. If you need to freshen up, the restroom is down the hall behind the bar. Just follow the signs.”

I thank her and weave my way toward the bar, keeping to the window with the ocean view. The glass is smooth and cold when I run my fingers along it, and I can feel its thickness. Its volume and weight. The sheer amount of space that it occupies. It looks so unassuming, but it packs amazing strength that allows it to keep the deadly water at bay. There isn’t much to see right now—it mostly reflects the interior—but I bet that during the day you can glimpse all kinds of fish and sea creatures.

Flattening my palm against the cool surface, I watch life go on in the room around me. This impressive glass installation reminds me so much of Aran—he’s not your typical bodyguard-turned-CSO. He sports a lean, tall frame and delicate features that make him look like he could be a model. Like he’d be the one in need of protection. Only his intimidating aura gives him away. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a predator among prey, whose sole purpose has always been to keep me safe.

It’s irresistibly hot. I am someone special to him, I have always been. He’s just decided I am out of romantic reach for some reason.

“Can I help you, sir?” a gravelly voice rips me out of my thoughts.

I’ve made it to the bar without realizing, and its decorated counter is visible on the left of my reflection.

Plastering on an innocent smile, I turn around. “Sorry, I… was enjoying the view…” I blink, not believing my eyes. Well now, that’s an unexpected development. “I’m looking for the… restrooms.”

The man with the tray of empty glasses nods, letting his lips curve up in amusement. His dark hair is styled in a neat bun at the top of his head that gives him an added layer of elegance. “It’s just down the hall, through here.” He points to the other end of the bar.

My brain is having a moment. Or a few. I’m not usually one to be lost for words, but I don’t know what to say. With his narrow frame, familiar features, dark almond-shaped eyes and impeccable suit, he looks like he could pass for a younger twin brother to Aran.

Holy shit. This is really trippy.

“Uh. Thanks?”

He chuckles and even his laugh is similar. If not for the easy smile that follows it and the lack of a resting scowl, he could totally pass for my grumpy bodyguard. “Are you feeling okay, sir…?”

“Iguana,” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Sir Iguana. Pardon the meddling, but you didn’t look like you enjoyed the glass of wine as much as your companions. Perhaps I can offer you something else?”

Oh shit. “You saw that? Was it so obvious?”

He hums, grabbing one glass and a fiber cloth. “Not really, unless you know what to look for.”

I wince internally. I need to blend in, not stand out like a sore thumb. My intel-gathering mission depends on it.

His laugh pulls my eyes to his face. It’s a little rounder than Aran’s, now that I think about it. His jaw is less angular too, and his nose is a tad longer. But unless you know the differences, I imagine it would be near impossible to tell them apart if they were standing next to each other.

“How about I whip up a special drink for you? You can pick it up on the way back.”

I don’t even drink. I should tell him that. But I don’t. No, no, that’s out of the question. I’ve landed the jackpot here. I need to keep him talking, because an Aran-lookalike with clearances for the off-limits areas is exactly the breakthrough I need.

“That would be amazing. I’ll be right back.”

I practically sprint out of the luxurious room, panting by the time I reach the gilded restroom doors. They open automatically and let me into a wide parlor-like space with faucets, tall mirrors and Greek-inspired ornaments. There are busts and columns in white marble, and an archway that leads into the bathroom area.

The last stall is my destination. I sit on the toilet and pull out my phone, shaking a little as I bring up the messaging app. Aran is the first one on my contacts’ list. Grinning, I tap on his name and start typing, only for the message bubble to go red the moment I press send.

“What the…”

There is no service. When I check the available networks, I find none. Considering the deck above was just fine, this means there must be jammers nearby. I can’t say it’s unexpected—I knew I’d likely be completely on my own today. It’s part of why I wanted to do this, so I could prove to Aran that he can count on me.

The plan hasn’t changed then. I’m simply going on a little detour because the side quest I stumbled upon opens up exactly the sort of opportunity that we needed.

Clapping my cheeks to pump myself up, I exit the stall and wash my face. Once I’ve made sure my grin is contained and I don’t look like I’ve been possessed by a smirking demon, I head back into the restaurant. I got this. It’s time for Sudo Hex’s talents to shine.

As soon as I am back at the bar, I beeline for the friendly waiter. He smiles at me and holds up a pastel pink drink with a bamboo straw. “It’s our specialty strawberry daiquiri. I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more than the Cheval Blanc.”

I accept the glass and take a small sip. It’s nice, but it has nothing on Aran’s homemade lemonade. If I could only drink one thing until the rest of my life, it would be that.

“This is really good,” I say and mostly mean it. It’s not the guy’s fault his competition is unbeatable.

Chuckling, he hands me a napkin and points at the left corner of his mouth. “You’re a strange one.”

I wonder what gave it away. But this plays in my favor, so I’m not about to complain. “You figured that out, huh? I’m actually a member of staff. My friends, the Lynxes, were nice enough to bring me here.”

Picking a glass which he starts polishing, Not Aran directs his gaze at my two companions who are enjoying a meat platter. “I haven’t seen you around.”

I hook a finger over my shoulder in the general direction of the elevator. “I work on the other side.” And because the best idea I’ve ever had in my life decides to reveal itself to me, I add, “Do you ever go there?”

Not Aran nods as he circles to the front of the bar. “Yeah, when I’m off duty. We aren’t allowed on certain decks, but depending on the times of day, we can make use of the pool and gym areas.”

A thrill of excitement slides down my back. I step in closer and bump my shoulder into his arm. “Maybe next time you go we can hang out? I think my friend would love to meet you.”

“Is he as lovely as you?” Not Aran chuckles, nudging me back.

Aran’s the loveliest. If we count scowls, frowns and murderous stares as that.

“He’s even better. Trust me. One hour with him and you two will be best buddies.”

“I don’t know why, but I don’t trust you.” I open my mouth to argue that I am the most trustworthy person ever, but he places his finger against my mouth and halts me before the words make it out. “However, it only makes me want to find out the truth even more.”

My stomach squeezes with hope. “So you’ll hang out with us?”

His eyes slide from my face down my body and then back up as he stacks the cleaned glasses on an empty tray that’s waiting atop the marble counter. “Yeah. It’s my day off tomorrow and I’ll be at the pool in the afternoon. See you around.”

I stand there and watch him carry the glasses behind the thick velvet curtain of the bar. I did it. I put this grand plan into motion and Aran will either love it or hate it. If I had to guess, it will probably be the latter.

But as I discreetly reach over the bar counter and empty my glass in the sink on the inner side, I decide I won’t worry about that now. I still have a job to do here.

And if the tipsy smile that Mrs. Lynx aims at me is any indication, the chances of my mission being a success just increased tenfold.