Page 21 of Hair, She Bears
“Yes, any memory you have of them. What they looked like, where they lived, the last time you saw them.” He released her and returned to the staircase. “If I’m going to find them, I need to know as much information as possible.”
“I don’t remember much,” she said to his back, her soft reply barely carrying across the tower.
“What did you say?” He stopped at the top of the staircase and turned, his gaze seeking her.
She scooted into the center of the room, hovering on the opposite side of the sofa.
“I haven’t seen or spoken to them since Mother took me.”
“My investigation is based on the memory of a five-year-old.” Malik shook his head, spun, and swiped the curtain aside, then leaned over and grabbed the sack from the center of the bed.
Sighing, Zenna turned away. She dragged to the sofa and collapsed. Only Mother knew the location of her parents, and he was never going to reveal that information. Hopelessness encompassed her. Drawing her legs into her chest, she slumped down, her forehead on her knees.
“I didn’t say I couldn’t do it.” Malik’s deep rumble startled her. Her head whipped up.
“How—”
“You have secrets; I do too.” He dropped beside her and handed her the sack.
“I told you mine,” she said.
“You did?”
“Kidnapped, maker of Votras Alute, never been kissed.”
“You’ve been kissed.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. “I meant before you.”
“There better not be an after me.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and she giggled. “Better. Now, let’s start with an easy question. What are your parents’ names?”
“My mother was called Anna.” She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to filter through childhood memories long buried in her subconscious. The cushion beside her moved. Her eyes flew open, and she found Malik kneeling beside the fireplace.
“Continue.” He waved his hand, his back to her.
“My father was Enzo… There’s not enough woo—”
Malik moved aside. A blazing fire crackled, the heat from the fireplace coating her in a thick blanket of warmth.
“How did you do that?” she asked, setting the sack on the cushion beside her, and leaned forward.
“Votras Alute.” He wiped his hands on his pants, leaving a smear of dark purple across his jeans. “Takes forever to burn too.”
“How do you know that?” She approached the fireplace, hesitating, and knelt beside him. Holding her hands out, she rubbed them together.
“It’s the only way to destroy the product; I’ve been hitting our couriers.”
“You? Why?”
“Revenge. My father murdered my mother when I was fourteen.”
The image of a boy kneeling on the ground in the courtyard exploded into her mind.
“Was that the day he whipped you?”
“He forbade me from speaking her name.” Pain flashed through Malik’s eyes. “I had hoped my father’s supply of the flower would run out if I ruined enough of the drug. It was shocking to learn the flower is no longer the main ingredient.”
“Is that why you want to help me escape, to punish your father?” She edged away from him, moving as far as possible without leaving the heat of the fireplace.
