Isadora retreats to the other side of the table. “You don’t need to know my reasons. All you need to know is this is what I want. You may not believe me, Mercy, but you and I are on the same side. You just don’t know it yet.”
“You and I are not on the same side. I only agreed to help you to save the people I love.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
She’s not telling me something. I can feel it.
“I don’t know if I can kill The Assembled,” I say.
“My sweet Mercy, it will be my utmost pleasure to watch you try.” Isadora sits back down. She leans forward with her elbows on the table. Her green eyes pierce me with their stare. “I’m going to help you be all that you can be.”
This does nothing to squelch my suspicion of her. Isadora opens and closes the briefcase. She pushes back from the table, comes around behind me, and jabs the back of my arm with something. It stings for a second. Isadora returns to her side of the table. She takes the briefcase in her hand and straightens her stance before she approaches the door and knocks. “Guard!”
The room around me sways. “What did you give me?” Merely speaking those five words leaves me gasping for breath.
Isadora smoothes her hair. “Just adding a little extra to the binding agent the guards gave you earlier. I need to make sure you stay put for now. Believe it or not, this is the safest place for you.”
The guards are working for Isadora. That explains the piercing pain in my neck from before. Struggling to stay lucid, I say, “Why are you doing this?”
“I like to think of it as protecting my assets.”
“You won’t get away with this,” I say forcefully.
“I already have.”
“Isadora, please.”
The guard returns and allows Isadora to leave the room. Before she is out of my sight, she turns to the guard and says, “You’ll see that my client’s injuries are attended to, or you’ll be facing your own day in court. Got it?”
Chapter Four
Gage
Mercy lies motionless on the couch. Too much time has passed. Something is wrong. “We need to get her to the hospital,” I tell Nathaniel.
Bracing myself for the argument that’s sure to follow, I stand with my arms folded across my chest and glare at him sternly to show I’m resolved and not backing down. This is our best option. Without the warehouse, we don’t have the equipment necessary to keep Mercy’s body alive. She needs fluids and vitamins, a heart monitor, and whatever else Rae used. Damn! Why hadn’t I paid more attention?
Nathaniel looks down at Mercy’s body, then up at me. “You’re right. We have to get her to the hospital, but we should call Ariana first.”
“Do you want me to do that?”
“No, I’ll do it.” Nathaniel stalks off.
I crouch in front of Mercy’s body and take her small hand in mine. Her skin is cool. “I’m going to find you,” I whisper. “I’m going to bring you home.”
Replacing her hand at her side, I reach behind her and pull down the blanket draped over the back of the couch. I wrap her snugly, hoping it will keep her warm.
It’s taking Nathaniel too long to come back. I yell down the hall, “What’s the hold up?” Though I don’t want to, I leave Mercy’s side in order to investigate. “Nathaniel! What did Ariana say?”
He isn’t in his room or the kitchen or the backyard. Nathaniel is gone, and quite frankly, I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course he’s gone. Nathaniel is reckless and brash, and it’s in perfect keeping with his character to he would run off and exclude me from his plan. Anger surges inside of me. I let out an involuntary grunt of frustration.
“You sound like a pig,” Nathaniel says from behind me.
Whipping around, I face him. “I thought you’d left.”
“Yee of little faith.”
“Where were you?”
“The garage,” he answers. “I got the electric blanket out of the cabinet.”
It’s quite possible that I’ve underestimated him.
“What did Ariana say?” I ask him.
“She said to keep her warm, and that she’ll be right over.”
While we wait, Nathaniel covers Mercy with the electric blanket. Neither of us is going to say it out loud, but it’s plain to see her skin is turning ashy. Nathaniel wipes her brow. The tenderness he displays disarms me.
The sound of a car pulling into the drive draws our attention. A momentary game of chicken occurs as neither one of us wants to be the one to leave Mercy. Unable to sit still, I lose, charging to the door and throwing it open. The frantic look on Ariana’s face does little to steady my nerves.
“How is she?”
I step aside to let Ariana into the house. As she passes, I tell her, “We’re keeping her warm, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”
“Go out to the car. You’ll find everything we need.”
Nathaniel remains stationed at Mercy’s side. I bolt to the car. The backseat looks like a medical supply store. It takes me three trips to unload it all.
We move Mercy to Nathaniel’s bed. That wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it doesn’t seem right to argue. Nathaniel and I hang back while Ariana works. She starts an IV line in Mercy’s right forearm, which connects to a bag of fluid. Within minutes, Mercy’s color improves. A faint blush pinks her cheeks, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Ariana ushers us out of the room. “What happened exactly?” she asks, her voice spiked with irritation.
“Like I told you on the phone,” Nathaniel begins, “we had a visit from her evil twin.”
“Now is not the time for your quips,” Ariana snaps.
Tensions are too high. “We’re all on the same side,” I remind them.
The three of us make our way to the living room. We sit in a triangle formation. Nathaniel’s hands are clenched while Ariana’s posture is rigid.
“Mercy was upset,” I explain. “She was going to jump, but we got to her in time.”
“You gave her binding agent?” Ariana asked.
“Yes,” Nathaniel answers.
“It didn’t work,” I say.
Ariana’s brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
“Something went wrong,” I continue. “Mercy was in pain. And then,” I snap my fingers, “just like that, she was gone.”
Ariana nods her head like she understands. She might, but I don’t.
“What?” I ask her. “What is it?”
“Isadora.”
“Are you sure?”
Nathaniel is off the couch and pacing. “This is bullshit. We have to do something!”
“Anything we do will only place Mercy in more danger,” Ariana says. “Isadora was very clear about her terms. Mercy agreed to this.”
Nathaniel’s rage intensifies. “What are you suggesting? That we sit by and do nothing?” He seethes, taking two quick strides toward Ariana. “Mercy only made this asinine deal as a way to protect us. We owe her the same.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Ariana stands, and they are face to face. “I want to keep Mercy safe just as much as you do.”
“Enough!” I yell.
Ariana points at Nathaniel. “Do not forget for one second that the reason Mercy is in this mess is because of the two of you.” She scowls. “You are going to keep yourselves in check. Do I make myself clear?”
Yes, she does.
We go to our separate corners. Ariana heads over to the wet bar and pours herself a drink. She sips it slowly.
“I still don’t understand how this happened,” Nathaniel says, breaking the silence.
Ariana finishes her drink. “It’s an extraction serum.”
Nathaniel’s face falls. He hangs his head sorrowfully.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I say. “Wouldn’t Isadora have to be in close proximity to inject Mercy?”
“Not if Mercy has a tracker.” Ariana holds out her arm. Above her wrist is a nasty, jagged scar.
My eyes go wide. “This is un
believable. Why would Isadora do that? Mercy already agreed to work with her. What does this mean exactly?”
“It means, little brother, that Mercy isn’t coming back to us. Once Isadora has Mercy under her control, she’ll inject her with binding agent, and Mercy won’t be able to leave whatever body she’s in until Isadora releases her.”
Ariana excuses herself to sit with Mercy. With her out of the room, Nathaniel and I can talk freely. I open my mouth, but he shakes his head, and then nods to the front door. We walk outside.
Once we’re in the yard I say, “She could be anywhere.”
Nathaniel puts his hand on my shoulder. “She’s stronger than any of us. She’ll get through this.”
“I can’t stand not knowing,” I tell him.
“Me either, but we’ll figure something out.”
“Can’t you find her, like you did last time?”
Nathaniel stands with his hands on his hips. He scans the yard. “It’s not like last time. She’s in a live body. When that happens, it’s like the signal is blocked. I can’t read her at all.” He sounds distressed, uncomfortable, and full of sorrow.
“We could go to Isadora’s warehouse and confront her,” I suggest, knowing that my idea is idiotic and borderline suicidal.
“That’s exactly what she wants. If we go charging in there, threatening her, she’ll have the excuse she needs to end us.” Nathaniel exhales. “We’re going to have to wait.”
He’s right. All we can do is wait and hope that Mercy isn’t in any danger. But of course she is. She has to be. We never should’ve let her make this deal with Isadora. We should’ve fought, done anything besides let Mercy hand over her life.
Mercy was in no position to make such a decision. Not after what Isadora did to her. The scene is still etched into my consciousness. Mercy, strapped to the table, listless, as a rib was yanked from her body. I’d never felt so helpless in all my life. And it was the first time that I truly understood Nathaniel and how he felt about me. It was the first time I fully understood how I came to be in existence. I was created from a rib stolen from Nathaniel’s body. And then I was sent by The Assembled to kill him, his own flesh and blood.
The Assembled are supposed to keep the peace between the human world and all that lay beyond. They aren’t supposed to interfere. None of us are. Nathaniel and Ariana were supposed to help humans cross over after they died. They weren’t supposed to have contact. But they broke that rule. They were banished, made human, and stripped of all their power. But what The Assembled didn’t know was that they wouldn’t live and die as humans. They would be something else entirely—Breachers.
I was created to stop them. It’s the sole purpose of my existence. But it wasn’t until that day, until I watched them take a rib from Mercy, that I fully comprehended the severity of it. We still haven’t talked about it, and I doubt we ever will. Some words can’t be spoken. Nathaniel and I are twins; we are connected in a way I can never explain, and I know now our connection stopped me from killing him. I’ve had plenty of opportunities, but there was always a reason to let him go.
Now Mercy has a twin to deal with, and if her antics from earlier are any indication as to what we’re up against, we are in for some serious trouble.
Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about being duped. I let my emotions and my desire cloud my judgment. Is this what it means to be human? Am I completely vulnerable to my impulses?
I’m afraid of my answer.
Ariana bursts onto the front porch, interrupting my mental flogging.
“Mercy called!” she yells.
Nathaniel and I dart across the yard and back into the house.
Ariana stands with her arms wrapped around her torso. “She’s in prison, but she doesn’t know where. She can’t jump. Isadora made sure of that.”
Nathaniel walks toward Ariana. “She didn’t tell you anything? Give you any clues as to where she might be?”
“She doesn’t even know her name.” At the end of her sentence, Ariana hiccups as tears began to flow. “This isn’t the life I wanted for her.” She sinks onto the couch, wipes her cheeks, and tries to compose herself.
Stepping forward, I say, “I know we haven’t said this in so many words, but we’re sorry for putting Mercy in this position. I … We … had no idea this would happen.”
She glares at me. “Save your words, Hunter.”
The insult stings more than I want to admit.
“We’re going to need a computer,” Nathaniel blurts out.
“I didn’t know you were good with computers,” I say to Nathaniel.
He grins—a look I’ve come to know well. “I’m not, but breaching a computer geek can’t be that difficult.”
My face falls. Of course. It always comes down to breaching. When did I become okay with this? When did I decide that our needs outweigh a human life?
“Gage,” Nathaniel snaps. “Now is not the time for moral dilemmas. We need to get down to the courthouse so I can do some digging and find our girl.”
The only part of that I hear is our girl. “Right,” I finally say.
Ariana stays by Mercy’s side while Nathaniel and I hightail it downtown. We should’ve discussed this, made some sort of plan before we go charging into the building, but that’s not exactly how Nathaniel operates. We are in the car and at the courthouse in less than ten minutes. After illegally parking out front, we run up the steps and through the entrance.
The reception area is a rotunda of opulence: marble floors, cherry wood benches, busts and statues of true Roman quality, and all of it leads to the desk of a small man whose nametag reads Mitchell.
It won’t be easy to distract him. Twitchy little man has darting eyes, and an eyebrow that appears permanently fixed in an arc. He isn’t the only one to worry about either. The entire place is buzzing with activity. Isolating someone long enough for Nathaniel to breach will be difficult, but when Nathaniel is determined, nothing will get in his way.
I knock over Mitchell’s cup of coffee. He lets a string of obscenities fly as he glares in my direction. Playing the part of the bumbling fool, I apologize and try to assist him, which, of course only makes things worse. He calls someone to watch his desk so he can clean himself off.
Nathaniel trails him into the men’s restroom. I keep watch, and though I don’t see what’s going on inside, from the sound of it, the clerk is putting up a fight. The bathroom door opens, and Nathaniel, in Mitchell’s body, walks out.
“I can’t believe I let you do this again,” I say. “We don’t know anything about this guy, and we’re just going to kill him!”
“Keep your voice down,” Nathaniel warns me. “And keep your guilt in check. This is about Mercy.”
How can I argue with that?
Nathaniel takes his place at Mitchell’s desk and buzzes me through. I hover as he fiddles with the computer. Computers aren’t exactly my forte. I always relied on Jinx. He was a whiz at all things technical. I highly doubt that Nathaniel holds a candle to Jinx’s technical knowledge, but he seems to be navigating through this system with ease.
“How do you know how to do this?” I ask.
“Actually, I learned this from Mercy,” he answers.
“Mercy? I didn’t know she was into computers.”
“She’s not,” Nathaniel tells me. “But she did teach me something about breaching.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mercy told me that she was aware of the soul of the body she took, like she was sharing the space as opposed to taking it over. It got me to thinking maybe that skill wasn’t unique to Mercy. Maybe, when I took a body, I didn’t want to have any connection to the host because I was trying to conquer it. Maybe, if I let myself, I could connect.”
“And can you?”
“It would appear so.” Nathaniel’s fingers fly across the keyboard as he types in pass codes, allowing him access to the database.
I point to the screen. “What is that?”
“That is a list of visitors.”
“Isadora.”
“She used her own name.” Nathaniel chortles.
“This could be a trap,” I warn him.
“Of course it’s a trap,” Nathaniel agrees. “But at least we know where Mercy is now.” Nathaniel punches in another code. “And we know who she is: Libby Reid, wife of alleged Vegas mob boss, Frankie Asters. She’s twenty-five, a former Playmate, and mother of one-year-old son Alistair. She’s been arrested in connection with her husband’s murder.”
I read over his shoulder. “It says here she’s being held without bail at a maximum security prison outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.”
Nathaniel looks up at me and smiles. “You know what this means, little brother.”
“Road trip.”
Chapter Five
Nathaniel
“We’re leaving. Now.” Isadora clutched Nathaniel’s forearm, and together they transported from the human world to the other side.
When they landed on the bridge, Isadora walked away at such a clip that Nathaniel had to jog to keep up with her. They were nearly to the end before Nathaniel matched her stride for stride.
“I understand you’re upset,” he tried.
“You understand nothing!” she snapped. She stopped and faced Nathaniel. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Isadora, please.” Nathaniel reached for her. He held her hand in his, and kissed her palm softly. “I’m sorry.”
Isadora shook her head slightly. “Sorry for what?” she whispered. “For breaking the rules? Or for hurting me?”
“Both,” he answered honestly. “I’m sorry for both.” Nathaniel nestled her hand to his chest.
“Who is she?”
Nathaniel averted his gaze.
Isadora leaned into Nathaniel. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Ellie.”
“Was she worth it?”
“Isadora, don’t.”
Isadora pulled back, yanking her hand free. “Don’t what? Be honest?”
“I said I’m sorry. What more do you want from me?”
“We could’ve had everything,” she told him. “I loved you, Nathaniel. I wanted your love in return.”
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