𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 || j. daniel atlas

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

Alena stood in the lobby of her hotel in New Orleans, phone in hand and lip between her teeth, staring at the unsent text. After a minute or so, she backspaced her previous attempt and, for the tenth time that morning, considered not sending Merritt a message at all. Thinking of Henley's words in the airport bathroom, Jack's invitation to New York, and Daniel's face when she'd accused him of being attracted to her, Alena smiled and send off a simple message, saying that she had enjoyed the show and to have a safe journey to New York.

The FBI hadn't paid her a visit that morning nor had she seen anything about the apprehension of the Four Horsemen on the news. Still, when, after much shower-based deliberation, she decided to go to New York for the final show, Alena resolved to still use her converted euros from the show in Vegas to buy the plane ticket at the airport.

But, before she left New Orleans, Alena took the liberty of purchasing a few books on magic and the occult from a second-hand bookshop. The woman who ran the shop had asked her if she had been to see the Four Horseman's show the previous night and had then produced several volumes, well handled, but clearly not for many years.

Thankfully, they had been able to fit in her hand luggage and she was able to, much to the displeasure of the man sitting next to her, pour over them on the plane journey to New York. There were many things repeated in each of the books, but none of those caught her attention in the same way as an elaborately-detailed drawing of an eye, resemblant of an Ancient Egyptian hieroglyph.

Each book spoke of a secret society, The Eye, supposedly originating in the era of its symbol. They had been founded on the basis of robbing the rich to feed the poor, a principle that the Horsemen had blatantly adhered to in both of their shows, and they only took on new members twice a century.

She didn't understand most of the technical terms at first, but after reading several accounts of the society, it became increasingly clear to Alena that this magic business was far more than smoke and mirrors. It seemed that the more she learnt about magic and what the Four Horsemen's objectives were, the more she understood Merritt's decision to leave her behind. Would she not have done the same if a better opportunity had arisen? Of course she would have, and she had. When he no longer tethered her to New Orleans, she had packed up her things and moved to LA.

♤ ♡ ♧ ♢

Because her decision to come to New York had been so last minute, Alena had only been able to secure a room in a cheap hotel in Queens. The room was a little stuffy, but tidy and clean. Throwing her suitcase on the bed, she opened the window as far as it would go – about two inches – and turned on the little television on the sideboard.

Once she had set out her toiletries in the en suite, Alena made to hang up her clothes when she realised that she had no idea where or when the Four Horseman's final show would be. How would she know what to wear?

Alena checked her phone and contemplated texting Merritt for any information on it, but he hadn't replied to her previous message. She hung up her best jeans, shirt and blazer, and laid back on the bed.

She must have fallen into a shallow nap, as the sudden blare of live footage from the television pulled her eyes open. Shaking the cloud of sleep from her mind, Alena shuffled to the end of the bed and turned up the volume on the news report.

"We're coming to you live above the FDR," the reporter was saying, "where NYPD and federal agents, as you now see, are engaged in a high-speed pursuit, following a black sedan."

Alena rubbed her temples and leant forwards, squinting at the small screen. It showed a helicopter view of a car chase running underneath a bridge.

"It looks like they're turning onto the 59th Street Bridge. As soon as we have them within range, we will bring you those pictures live."

Tossing the remote back on the bed, Alena stood up, having lost interest. She closed the curtains and began to undress. In the bathroom, Alena tied her hair back and begin running the tap. She was beginning to feel the make-up on her face and wanted nothing more than to scrub it off.

When she returned to the bedroom, the news channel was giving an overview of the car chase. "Today, the unfolding story of a popular and controversial group of magicians-"

Alena dropped her blouse and retook her seat at the end of the bed.

"-who have been fast capturing the public's imagination, took a dark turn when a police action that began in Chinatown developed into a dramatic, high-speed chase across the 59th Street Bridge, which caused a fatal collision that took the life of Jack Wilder-"

Alena muted the television, looking away from the images of the flaming car, pressing her fingers to her colourless lips. She stood again, rubbing her free hand over her chest. Even though she had only met the young magician twice, and briefly at that, Alena felt something unfamiliar itching at her insides.

She turned the television off completely and scrambled for her phone. Merritt still hadn't replied to her text, but now she understood why. Alena touched the phone symbol and waited.

"Why are you calling?" the irritated voice of Daniel Atlas pieced her eardrum.

"Can Merritt not answer his own phone?" Alena struggled to keep her voice steady.

"You're not answering the question."

"I'm calling to ask-"

"These matters don't concern you. I have worked- We have worked too hard for someone like you to swoop in and screw things up."

"Someone like me?" Alena scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Daniel gave no verbal reply, but Alena did pick up on some vague mumblings.

"Is it because I don't have magic powers like you?" Daniel tried to interject but she talked over him. "Does the fact that I don't use my ability to twist people's minds for good make me so much lower than you? That I might jeopardise your chances with your precious Eye-"

"How do you know about the Eye?"

"Because I can read, Mr Atlas. If you'll let me speak, I actually called to extend my sympathies. I saw the crash on the news, and I wanted... Just put Merritt on the phone."

"He's fine." Daniel sighed heavily.

"I've known him for longer than you have-"

"Barely."

"-and he isn't going to just 'be fine' after someone dies, no matter how much he pretends not to care. You, on the other hand, I can tell just how mournful you are."

"Right, because you're the epitome of empathy."

"Just put him on the phone."

"Yeah, no. Like I said, we can't afford to get distracted right now."

Alena exhaled through her nose, sensing that she wasn't going to get any further with Mr Atlas today. "Fine. Just make sure he knows I called. And tell Henley I asked after her too."

Daniel hummed shortly.

There was a pause, then Alena asked, "I take it that the next performance has been cancelled then?"

"You didn't come all the way out to New York, did you?" Daniel asked, Alena unable to decipher his tone.

She tried to think of a retort, but she hesitated a moment too long. "Are you cancelling the performance?" she said with all the nonchalance she could muster, though knowing he wouldn't buy her cover.

"No, we're still going through with it."

Alena narrowed her eyes. "But you're missing an act." Something in the way he didn't seem to care about the loss of Jack Wilder sent a shiver through her bones. If she hadn't had her suspicions that he was a robot before, she did now.

"Well, you know what they say. The show must go on."