There was a pause, in which I thought I heard his breathing above me. There was a rasp to it, as if there was liquid in his lungs. But his voice had been strong and hard earlier when I’d heard him shout down the stairs at his wife.
“Turn on the light, Ima. She’s not used to this dark old house the way we are.”
I felt Ima rumbling heavily up the stairs behind me, her disapproval wafting past me. A moment later, a light illuminated the landing on the second floor. It was an old, elaborate wrought iron chandelier, I saw. My gaze zoomed to Noah Madaster.
His wheelchair looked too small for him. Not to small for him, I realized. Too small to hold him.
Noah Madaster was an intimidating giant of a man, I recalled Evan saying. That hadn’t changed, spinal cord injury or not. He was tall and thin, but far from frail. He must have been very muscular, once. Now he’d faded to a kind of wiriness.
Electric wiriness.
The thought popped into my brain as I met his blue-eyed stare. An idea came to me that he’d been manically powerful in his youth, his electric personality finding focused outlets in multiple directions. When his injury had stilled him, he’d somehow channeled that feverish, frightening energy inward.
Now he seethed with it.
His hair was a thick, blondish-gray mane, a shocking reminder of his former virility. Light colored whiskers dusted his chin, jaw, and upper lip. His face… I found myself compelled by it. Repulsed by it. I didn’t know which. It was like a skeleton with a wax covering, only his eyes glaring furious, electric life. The only other feature that wasn’t bone-like on his face was his lips, which were surprisingly full.
I realized a silence had descended as we inspected each other.
&
nbsp; He grunted, as though passingly satisfied with what he saw.
“Follow me,” he said. His hand moved on a control on the arm of his chair. He whizzed backward, and then forward down the hallway. I realized the hand he used to power the wheelchair was bandaged. It was the fist he’d used to punch through the window.
Noah led the way, his nurse following, and me trailing along in the back.
(This is how it always is with him. He must take the lead in all things. Subordinates must fall behind.
Only a Madaster can lead. That’s his mantra.)
I’d given up even questioning where my thoughts came from. I would marginally accept them until they proved wrong.
Madaster paused outside two curving metal doors. He punched a button, and the doors slid open to reveal an elevator.
A very small elevator.
Madaster adroitly backed himself in, and Ima followed. I just stood in the hallway while they both stared out at me. I can’t get in there, I thought. It’s too small, and I’ll be too near him.
I’ll suffocate.
I felt a pressure tightening around my throat. I opened my mouth to tell them to send the elevator back down after they’d gone upstairs, when I saw the little smile on Madaster’s fleshy lips.
He knew what I was about to say. He saw my fear.
I walked into the small, circular elevator, holding his stare. I think I held my breath for the entire ride upward. When the car came to a halt with a slight jarring sensation, he made a deep, raspy sound in his throat.
I realized he was chuckling at my show of defiance.
The door opened. I backed out of the elevator so fast that I ran into the wall in the hallway. The jolt popped the held air out of my lungs. Madaster got off, Ima following him. I once again brought up the rear in our bizarre little parade through the dark hallways of the South Twin.
“Bring us something to drink, Ima,” Madaster ordered when we crossed the corridor into a large, circular room. It was blindingly bright after the darkness. I saw banks of windows that looked out onto the brilliantly blue lake and mountains in the distance. One of them was blacked out with the cardboard they’d inserted into it after Madaster had punched through the glass.
I was in Madaster’s tower.
Ima hurried to a swinging, wooden door in the back of the room and disappeared. Madaster manipulated his chair to a seating area around a coffee table. There was a luxurious but worn leather couch and two upholstered chairs around the table. I approached him cautiously.
“So. You do like the sunlight,” I said, glancing around the illuminated tower-room.