Initially, the brig had seemed a promising assignment. Rho—akaNoah fucking Drew—had been confined almost as soon as he boarded Gilamede. Once in holding, he’d thrown a full-blown tantrum. (Todd’s log dutifully read “Crash!(breaks chair)” at the appropriate time stamp.) When Captain Quentin tried to explain that no one named Alara had ever been onboard, Rho had gone apeshit for two solid minutes (“Do notTHINKyou can foolME!”).
But ever since, Noah Drew had been lying on his cot facing a wall. Todd had heard he was a Method actor, deeply dedicated to the craft. He could now attest to this firsthand: in four hours, almost every other cast member had come by to try to engage, and Noah had not so much as rolled over.
The only good part of being assigned to this corpse cam was that Todd could get through his footage faster than the other interns because he could watch on 32x speed. When, at 06:24:16:08, AJ Graves appeared in the frame, Todd almost fast-forwarded right by her.
But he didn’t. He paused the footage with a click.
AJ was only a few years older than Todd, but she was Ian’s pet from New York, and as such was both a story producer on this project as well as a minor character, Ana Tar.
She looked surprisingly good on camera. She was hot in person—she had hot teeth, if that was a thing—but that didn’t always translate. For Ana, they’d dressed her in a voluminous white robe, but even in her baggy-ass costume, you could tell she had a bangin’ bod. Herreddish-blondish hair was up in a messy bun, as if she’d just come from the editing bay, which she probably had.
Judging from the plate in her hand, Ian and Em had sent her to bring Noah Drew some food.
How dynamic.
Grudgingly, Todd backed up the footage, logged the time stamp, and turned up the volume.
The first thing he heard was panting. Noah Drew’s dog—which apparently he’d made them write into the show—had hopped off the cot, trotting over to AJ as she knelt by the cell’s bars. She was moving quickly, probably hoping to drop the food before Noah could wake up and yell at her. The dog’s exuberant approach forced her back on her heels.
It took Todd a second to realize that AJ was behaving in character; Ana Tar had never been to the home world and would never have seen a dog.
“She won’t hurt you,” came Noah’s low voice from the back of the cell. Todd was immediately struck by how gentle he sounded in contrast to his other scenes.
Despite this, AJ—Ana—flinched. She kept her focus on the dog, who was looking up at her with adoring eyes, long tail wagging.
Noah rose from the cot and slowly prowled toward the bars. Rho’s wardrobe was far more complex than Ana’s: black leather and armor head to toe. The left side of his face was covered in a swirling tattoo—the mark of his family.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said softly.
AJ was still kneeling. She didn’t meet his eyes. “What is that?” she asked.
Noah—Rho—crouched down so that he was at eye level with AJ, placing a large hand on the dog’s back. “Have you never seen a dog?”
AJ’s cheeks colored. She looked down at the tray. “I brought you food,” she said. Noah Drew stood, watching her. Then he brought the dog to the bed so she wouldn’t bother AJ.
As he did, AJ reached out and touched the bars of his cell; three of them lifted just high enough to admit a plate. It was obviouslyhydraulic, but for the purposes of the show, this was the crale, Gilamede, acting on Ana’s behalf.
Rho took a step toward her. “You know how to control it,” he said, taking this in.
AJ shoved the food under the bars, and they descended again. She stood, rubbing her wrists. “No one can control a crale,” she said, eyes downcast.
Noah stalked closer. They were inches apart, separated only by bars. “You won’t look at me,” he observed. He sounded almost academic, though his gaze had a predatory glint. “I wonder, what is it you think you’ll see?”
There were twelve cameras in the brig, some taking wide-angle shots, others zoomed in at close range. Todd could see every view simultaneously in his editing bay. In the close-up of AJ’s face, he watched unease ripple across her features. Then her jaw set in defiance.
“A big, scary man,” she said slowly, lifting her eyes to his. “In a big, scary cage.”
Something like triumph gleamed in Noah Drew’s gaze. More than that—there was heat. “And here I thought Cralites were supposed to be peaceable.”
AJ’s eyes narrowed. “They say you’re from the future,” she said, baiting him. “We must seem very simple to you.”
Rho looked at her with an intensity that sucked the air out of the room. Like those bars meantnothing.Like he was going todevourher. Todd felt a chill and glanced at his wrist: goose bumps.
Jeez, did AJ Graves and Noah Drew have chemistry.
“Let me out of here,” he said quietly. “You know it’s wrong. I can see that you do.”
Her eyes were furious, but she didn’t look away. “You know nothing about me.”
