by C. J. Felver
“Is Lyza okay? Did something happen to her and Reese?” I blurt, sidestepping Joe.
“Cleo, don’t,” he whispers. What the hell?
Zander hesitates a moment, slowing as he moves closer. “No, they’re both alright. We found the serum and destroyed it.”
My whole body lights up at that. My best friends are alright, the serum is destroyed, Aulder is dead, and we found Joe. This is shaping up to be a great day. Not counting getting shot. Definitely not.
But … wait, if Lyza and Reese are okay, did something happen to my dad? He didn’t mention my dad, and I didn’t ask initially because he’d stayed at Zander’s for the registration.
Zander speaks before I can ask: “I’m glad I found you.” He takes another step toward me, crowding into my space.
“Uh—” I start to say. This is totally unlike him and it’s making me uneasy.
“What’s going on, Zander?” Wren asks, posturing up to him and cutting me off.
Zander shoves his hands into his pockets and shifts slightly toward Wren. The majority of his attention lingers on me, which seems to only make Wren angrier. “You’re in my way, Wren,” he says, his tone full of annoyance and aggravation. “That’s what’s going on.”
The next second, Zander yanks his hands out of his pockets and jams something into Wren’s neck. Wren’s mouth opens and closes again and again, making him look like a fish out of water as he sputters incoherently at Zander. When Zander releases him, there’s a syringe hanging from his neck.
“What the fuck, Zander! What was that for?” I shout, pushing past him to get to Wren in time for his eyes to roll back into his head. Wren slumps forward and I catch him before he hits the floor. I sink down to my knees, cradling his head in my lap. He’s still breathing and his heart is still beating, so I’m guessing Zander gave him a sedative of some sort.
Looking at Joe, his face is creased with indecision. His eyes dart back and forth between me and Zander, but he doesn’t move. He and the earth elemental—whose name I still don’t know—have moved further away. A flash of fear passes through the earth elemental’s eyes. What is that all about? Why isn’t Joe helping me?
I pull the needle out of Wren’s neck and chuck it to the side, reaching out mentally and gripping water. I don’t know what the hell has come over Zander, but I am not okay with it.
“What the hell was that all about, Zander?”
“He was in my way. Didn’t I say that already?” His annoyance seems to be growing quickly.
I carefully place Wren’s head on the floor and get to my feet, keeping a grip on the water. I hope I don’t have to use it on someone I thought was my friend, but I won’t be made a victim, either.
“In the way of what?”
Zander doesn’t say anything, just sighs and drags his hand down his face. His green eyes meet mine from under his lashes, his hand still covering his mouth. There’s a flicker there, something I can’t put my finger on. Then he lunges.
“No!” Joe’s shout rings in my ears as Zander grabs me. “Not her, sir!”
He moves much more quickly than I anticipated, catching me off guard and jabbing my side. A pinch in my skin, followed by a burning sensation, alerts me to the disturbing reality that has somehow become my life.
Drugged. Again.
My eyelids droop. A vision of Zander’s soft, and almost regretful, expression swims in and out of focus.
“Shh,” he says. His lips keep moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
That fucker drugged me.
Fingers brushing hair out of my face is the last thing I feel before everything goes black.
I wake to an unfamiliar room, sitting on an unfamiliar bed, wearing unfamiliar clothes. The only thing in the room besides me and the bed is a toilet and sink in the corner, and a tray of food sitting next to the door.
Dread pools in my stomach. I get up and cross over to the door, my bare feet padding on the cold gray and blue floor tiles. Jiggling the door handle, I find it’s locked. There aren’t any windows to see out. No windows anywhere in the cream-colored walls, actually.
Something tugs the skin on my face. I reach up to find steri-strips holding the skin together there. The movement sends pain shuddering through my upper arm. Yanking up the sleeve of my scrub-style shirt, I’m surprised to find a bandage covering most of my bicep.
Everything comes rushing back.
I was cracked in the face by Aulder, then shot by him too. Then I killed him, and…
Oh, no.
This is bad. This is really bad.
Lyza
“Have you heard from Cleo yet?” Reese asks. It’s been a few hours since we parted ways. With some major help from Zander, we managed to find the serum-contaminated ink, only getting a few scrapes and bruises along the way.
Once we got out of that ridiculous excuse of a registration thing going on at the courthouse, we smashed every single vial of the shit. And burned it for good measure. Yeah, we weren’t taking any risks on that shit coming back around to haunt us again. I happen to like having lightning available at the tips of my fingers—thank you very much—and I’d like it to stay that way indefinitely.
Anyway, I pull my phone out to check my notifications. Nada. It’s been pretty much silent all day. I’m not sure what I expected. It’s not like Cleo has her phone right now. Poor girl lost it somewhere.
“Nope. Come to think of it, she hasn’t had her phone for a few nights. She lost hers sometime after I lost mine. But we should’ve heard from someone by now.” Girl must be lost without it. I know I would be.
“I’m getting worried,” Reese says, chewing on her bottom lip. “I wish we had a way to contact her.” Reese’s brows are drawn together, hitching lines over her forehead. She really looks exhausted. Her short auburn hair is littered with dirt, leaves, and has that windswept look. I’m positive mine is the same. We had our asses handed to us today.
I have no clue how Cleo and Wren continued on to fight with Doctor Douche after leaving this hellhole. I’m whupped. That girl must run on batteries or something, because she’s basically been going nonstop for a week. She deserves a spa day once she gets back.
Wren had better give her the time of her life, too. Cleo can act however she wants about it, but I know she wants him. I can read her like an open book.
“I know, girl,” I say to Reese. “I’m worried about her, too. But she’s a badass. If anyone can do this, it’s Cleo. Besides, she has Wren with her and I know he won’t let anything happen to her. Dude is clearly head over heels for her.”
Reese snorts a laugh, scrunching her freckled button nose. “It’s super cute, actually. I kinda love them as a couple. How did they get started anyway?” She tilts her head in my direction.
Screeching tires pull my attention away from Reese’s shocked expression. Zander is back. He’s driving the car Cleo and Wren took off in with Rowe. Dude has an unhealthy obsession with cars. I’m pretty sure his garage is close to the same size as his house.
I hop down from the hood of my Jeep and stride over to him. He steps out of the car and runs a hand through his long hair. It’s down for once, which is a nice look. I’m itching to run my fingers through it. He always wears it in a manbun—which is a good look for him too. I never thought long hair would be something I’d find myself attracted to, but whaddya know, I’m here for it.
“Well …” I prompt, popping a hand to my hip. My guy has exactly three seconds to start talking before I unleash my attitude. Something isn’t right if he came back without my bestie and her man.
“I found them,” he says. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that it’s not okay to electrocute people who are getting on my nerves. Especially if they aren’t hurting me, no matter how much I think they deserve it.
“You found them, but where are they? Why aren’t they with you? I’m going to need you to give me more than a three word answer here, dude.”
He hol
ds his hands out in a placating manner. “Okay, alright,” he says, running one hand through his hair, chuckling. “So I found them, and they’re both alive, but it’s complicated. I can’t really explain. You’ll just have to come with me and see what I mean.”
They’re alive.
That’s the best effin’ news I’ve heard today. But what the heck does he mean It’s complicated? “What about Doctor Douche? Did they take care of him?” I ask.
He nods his head as he answers. “Yeah, he’s dead. We won’t have to worry about him anymore.”
And that’s the second-best news I’ve heard today. It makes all the shit we’ve had to deal with worth it. Well, mostly. Frank was dealt a pretty shitty hand.
I turn to Reese, who’s moved over to stand right beside me. Her expression holds the same concern I’m feeling. “You want to head back to Zander’s place and check on Frank? Maybe fill him in on everything that’s happened?” I turn back to Zander. “If that’s alright with you?” He gives a brief nod, doesn’t even hesitate.
“Yeah, I can do that. Want to text me the address?”
“Sure thing, girl.” I give her a wave and she disappears toward her own car as I slide into Zander’s slick ride, sending Reese a quick text, telling her how to get to Zander’s place.
He shuts his door and throws the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot and maneuvering through traffic at a ridiculous speed. He weaves between other vehicles with a confidence I could never imagine having. I don’t even know how he manages to fit through the places he does. More than a few times, it seems like we should hit someone, but we never do.
I think I have a new favorite pastime.
“You gotta teach me how to drive like this. It’s exhilarating.” My grip on the oh-shit handle is purely to keep myself balanced and upright as he navigates each turn and curve, like he’s memorized this route.
A grin spreads across his face, revealing his gorgeously white teeth. This guy knows he’s damn fine. I kinda love it. It’s part of what attracted me to him to begin with.
“I could teach you. But it’s not something you can learn in a day.” He leans toward me, meeting my eyes for a moment before training his gaze back to the road. “It’ll take a lot of practice. Until everything becomes second nature, a reflex.”
He turns off the road into an abandoned parking lot. How the heck did he manage to find this place? It’s deserted. There are three rundown buildings and absolutely no one in sight.
“Uh, are you sure this is the right place?” I ask.
He chuckles a husky sound. Next thing I know, we’re in an underground garage, parking the car near an elevator. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Zander gets out of the car without another word. I watch him leave, getting a good look at his ass in his low-slung jeans, before turning to open my own door and follow him. We step into the elevator and the doors pull shut, closing us inside.
“Hold up,” I say, gripping the bar as the elevator lurches into motion. “Why is the elevator taking us down?”
His face screws up in indifference. “I don’t know. For whatever reason, that’s where Aulder Harlow wanted his secret lair or whatever.”
Alright, that makes sense. But, like, why a secret lair? I bet Cleo got a real kick out of this. It’s just like something she’d see in all those movies she watches.
The elevator comes to a stop and dings as the doors open, revealing a poorly lit lobby and an empty receptionist desk. Zander steps out and leads me past the area and down a hallway. There are no decorations. The area looks so bland it’s practically nauseating.
We move further down the hallway, past the desk. The lights are flickering, casting creepy as hell shadows everywhere. I notice water pooling on the floor. Actually, it’s more than pooling, there’s a legit river hanging out here. My girl has definitely been here. But where is she now?
We continue on down the hall, my eyes catching on something on the wall.
What the …?
“Are those burn marks on the wall?” Holy shit, they are! “What the hell happened here?”
“I’m pretty sure Cleo and Wren had to fight against other elementals,” Zander says.
Other elementals? If those are burn marks on the wall—and they totally are—then that means … Could this have been from Joe? Fire elementals are so rare. I’ve never met one other than him. But stranger things have happened recently.
“That still doesn’t really tell me what the hell happened. And where is Cleo?”
Zander stops in the middle of the hallway, forcing me to stop so I don’t run into him. He spins, pinning me with an irritated stare.
“Look, I told you it was complicated, okay? You’ll see your friend soon. Alright?”
Wow, dude has mood swings apparently. Talk about an attitude. I step into him, ignoring his muscular chest as I poke my finger into it.
“Look, man. You brought me into this creepy as shit building, leading me down this battlefield of a hallway, and haven’t so much as said a word since stepping off of the elevator. Excuse me for asking for clarification on the vague as fuck answers you’ve given me about my best friend’s whereabouts.”
His eyes grow wide before he narrows them at me. Zander steps into me, wearing a strange expression. Our chests are flush. Pangs of unease filter through my body. I’ve never seen him behave this way before; it’s like a whole new person is standing in front of me.
“You want answers, Lyza? How about this: Cleo is here, she’s alive. Same with Wren. This place is Aulder Harlow’s laboratory, one he keeps out of the public eye with two business partners—Officer Rowe being one of them. Here, he works on one project, and one project only. Or at least, he did until Cleo killed him.”
Whoa.
Holy shit, things just took an ominous turn. How does he know all of this?
“And what project is that?” I prompt.
Zander’s lips tip up into a dark and menacing smile. My heart rate spikes, and I’m sure he can feel it with the way we’re pressed together. Why the flip am I not stepping away?
“Aulder Harlow liked to call it his Elemental Initiative Program. I think it’s a fitting name.” He reaches up and strokes a hand through my unruly curls. My first instinct is to flinch away, but I don’t want him knowing the effect he has on me, so I don’t move a single inch.
Growing bold, he drags a finger down the side of my cheek, stroking my hair once more. When his hand is even with the nape of my neck, he threads his fingers through the finer hairs there, grabbing a fistful and tugging my head back, exposing my neck to him. His eyes trail slowly over the view he’s just given himself.
I want to scowl. I want to knee him in the balls. I want to jolt his ass with a bolt of lightning, but I don’t move. He’s going to give me one more answer.
“Where is Cleo?” I say slowly.
“She has unknowingly enrolled herself into the program. I think she’ll be a great asset.”
Static flickers across my vision, enhancing it as I call upon my element. I reach up and drag my hand through Zander’s hair the exact way he did to me. When I reach the nape of his neck, I shock him with a few volts. It’s enough for him to let go, shouting a string of profanities. Before he backs away, I drive my knee straight into his junk and run for it. He drops to the ground, assuming the fetal position and cradling his goods. His groans of pain are extremely satisfying as I take off.
Instead of going back the way we came, I follow along the way Zander—shady motherfucker—had been leading me. Cleo is in one of these rooms and I’m going to find her. That is, until something trips me and I land face first onto the floor.
Strong hands turn me over with a growl. Zander is breathing hard. No doubt he’s still feeling my knee where it counts. Too bad he deserved it. I give him another zap, the electricity coming off my skin amplified by the water we’re lying in. His jaw locks and his nostrils flare, but he never breaks eye contact.
Somehow, he starts moving despite my constant flow of volt
age. He reaches for his back pocket in a jerky movement. His breathing is harsh and labored. He’s clearly in immense pain.
It doesn’t seem to matter. I cry out as pain pinches into my leg. What the hell? Did he stab me? My eyelids feel so heavy. I fight to keep them open. Zander’s stare is still boring into me. He smirks just as I black out.
Acknowledgements
Growing up, my mom would always joke about how she needed to sit down and write that best seller so she wouldn’t have to work long shifts. It gave us all a good laugh because there was hardly ever a time where her nose wasn’t buried in a book—if she had free time, that is, what with working and running us kids around. All that time, I never thought I’d be the one to sit down and write a book. But here we are.
This wasn’t a life long dream of mine, like it was for my mom. But it has been a dream since falling back in love with books in my adult life. The first book I sat down to write didn’t pan out. Every time I sat down, I couldn’t work the plot out. But this one just flowed so easily. I’m so thankful to so many people for helping me make this a possibility.
Zach, you are seriously my rock in this life and I never would’ve finished this story without you pushing me along. Thank you for picking up my slack on nights where I had to keep my fingers on the keyboard. Thank you for not letting me give up when I wasn’t sure if I was capable. Thank you for always listening when I needed someone to bounce ideas off of, even though this is not your preferred genre.
My son and daughter, you inspired me more than you know. Thank you for always cheering me on. Your enthusiasm motivated me to press on and fulfill my dream.
Mom, Amy, Katie, Jamie, Alysia, Maria, Nellie, and June, my alpha and beta readers. Thank you all so much for reading through this book with a fine tooth comb. Thank you for pointing out things that never would’ve worked. Thank you for your kind words and believing in me.
Lee and Kim, you were both incredibly helpful and made this process so informative. Thank you for helping me polish up my book baby. I’m so grateful to you both for helping me understand how this part of the writing world works.