Take the Key and Lock Her Up (Embassy Row 3)

Alexei inches closer to me. He’s afraid, I can tell. But I don’t stop to explain.

“Ann,” I admit. “She said there’s a solution.” It’s supposed to give me hope—the thought that there’s a way out—but it doesn’t. I’m too numb to feel anything anymore. Hope isn’t an option for me.

I can hear Alexei breathing; I can almost hear him thinking. It’s like he knows I’m standing on the threshold of a very bad idea.

“Grace, they can’t be trusted,” he says, and he’s right.

But I can’t help smiling when I look at him. “Neither can I.”

The wall that circles Valancia is a thousand years old, still tall and wide and solid. They call it one of the Wonders of the World, and it brings tourists here by the thousands. Ironic, considering that once upon a time it was built to keep people out.

Guard towers peek up at regular intervals. In a place or two, tourists can pay to climb to the top and stand with the sun on their faces as the wind blows off the sea. I know exactly how that feels, rising like a bird above the city, nothing between you and the horizon.

When I was little, I used to spend my summers chasing Jamie and Alexei up onto the wall.

When I was twelve, I jumped off, just to prove I could.

And now I’m back, wind on my face, sun at my back, on the verge of doing something stupid.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Megan says. We’re standing on top of the German embassy. From here, it’s literally a hop, skip, and a jump onto the wall itself. This is as far as my friends can follow.

“I wish you’d let us come with you,” Megan says.

“I’m supposed to go alone,” I say, just like I’ve been saying for the past twelve hours.

Once again, Rosie rolls her eyes. “Yes, and that has never ended badly.”

“Guys.” I look around at the group: Noah and Alexei both seem ready to start a fight; Megan and Rosie seem ready to end one. “I’ll be fine. And if I’m not … then at least it’s over.”

“Don’t.” Alexei grabs my hand before I can turn and jump onto the wall. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, pulling me into the safety of his arms.

I don’t dare tell him I’m not joking.

“I’ll be fine,” I say again, and then I reach up and kiss him, lingering a little longer than I should, savoring the feel of his freshly shaven cheek against my lips. I want to stay here and breathe him in, pretend that I’m the kind of girl who gets a happy ending. But I can’t, so I make myself pull away.

I don’t look back, but when I jump onto the wall I know that I’m alone. I should get bonus points for following directions. It goes against my very nature, after all. I don’t want to be here; I don’t want to do this. But, most of all, I don’t want any more blood on my hands, so I keep walking, and when the wall curves, climbing up the hill, I know I’m out of sight.

I am entirely alone when I hear her.

“Hello, Grace.”

The prime minister is in black today. I wonder if she’s come straight from a funeral. Or maybe she’s dressed for mine.

“Thank you for coming,” she tells me. It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes.

“I didn’t come for you.”

“Of course.” The PM smirks, as if she’s allowing me the indulgence of my indignation. “I’m sorry about Paris, Grace. I should have explained the situation to you more clearly.”

“You mean before you drugged and kidnapped me? Don’t bother.”

“This situation affects us all. It, in fact, affects the world. And the stability of that world is no laughing matter.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” I snap back.

“We only want to help,” she says, and now I do laugh.

“You mean the kind of help that might keep me from being hunted down like a rabid dog?”

Her gaze hardens and she talks on. “I’m glad you’re here. We have a solution that will make this problem go away and please everyone in the long run, I believe.”

“Everyone?” I don’t mask the sarcasm that I feel.

“Yes,” the PM says. “Everyone.”

Just as she says the word, a figure appears over her shoulder.

I don’t know who arranged to close the wall today, but it’s totally free of tourists. We’re alone when Princess Ann speaks.

“Hello, Grace. Thank you for coming.”

“Sure,” I say. “I mean, we all have to die sometime, don’t we?”

I hope she remembers my vow, but she doesn’t show it. She just nods at the PM, and it’s clear the two of them have already talked this through. The only problem is me.

What else is new?

“But that’s just it, Grace.” Ann steps closer, as if she has to make me see. Instinctively, I step back, and she halts. The last thing either of them wants is for me to start jumping off walls again.

Ann shakes her head. She almost looks like Mom’s best friend. “Nobody wants you to die.”

I almost believe her.

But then I remember.

“The men who attacked my friends yesterday in Dubrovnia didn’t seem to agree. Were they yours?” I ask Ann. Then I turn to the PM. “Or maybe they worked for the Society.”

“You’re at risk, Grace,” Ann says. “Your brother is at risk.”

“Jamie’s dead,” I say, the words automatic now. But neither of the women on the wall are fazed. I’m not surprised they don’t believe me.