Never Forgotten

by Stacey Nash

  Anger ripples across his face. “Not even a damn computer. We needed to hack his emails or something . . . how the hell are we going to find anything now?”

  “I . . . it . . . I . . .” I’ve never had so much trouble forming a coherent sentence. “It’s all gone.”

  “Why?” Lilly asks.

  “No idea,” Will says, “but it’s just this office. Maybe something happened to Manvyke.”

  “That’d be perfect,” she mumbles.

  With nothing here, staying is pointless. I push through the door and into the sitting room. “Lilly, light up this room.”

  The light bobs with her steps and when she holds it up, the sitting room is bare too. The lounges are gone, the shelves on the bar stripped. Not even an empty liquor bottle remains. It’s like he knew we were coming and cleared out. Nausea coils in my stomach and I back into the corridor. Hand running along the wall, I follow it around. My fingers bump over doorframes and I don’t stop until I come to the gap that must be the stairs leading down. Where the heck has Manvyke gone?

  Taking tentative steps until my toes brush the top of the stairs, I descend. With no hand railing and only the wall to guide me, this is a risk, but I don’t care. We’ve got to get out of here before the trap snaps. Movement sounds behind me, the steady fall of Will’s breaths.

  “Dungeon?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Mae . . .” He pauses as his hand rests against the small of my back, “I’ll go in first and if she’s there, I’ll—”

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  “We know it’s a torture chamber. What if—”

  “I said I can handle it.”

  Lilly’s light shines from behind, making it easier to place each step. The dank smell of mildew and dirt grows stronger as we descend until we reach the bottom of the stairs where it fills the cool air.

  “It’s so eerie down here,” Lilly whispers, adding to the atmosphere.

  “Telcom,” I hiss.

  Will squeezes past us. “Nothing like stating the obvious.”

  Lilly blows out a huff.

  As we move along the passage that has been carved out of the earth, silence as still as that above consumes me. It’s like I’m a tiny speck in this giant building, just waiting for whatever trap is laid out to snap closed.

  Light.

  Light thrown from a wall sconce into the dark corridor, and a little further along is another and the next. Fear threatens to break free from me in a scream. They’re here. My whole body tenses, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Instead, I keep creeping forward in the soundless dark. The arched entry to the chamber appears, illuminated by a dull light with a blue hue. Pushing my back against the dirt wall, I draw my dagger from its sheath. My knuckles glow in the dim light. I edge forward.

  “Mae—” Will warns.

  “No.”

  Of course, I’m as scared as he is, but it could be her, in trouble. My heart thumps against my ribs as I move close enough to see into the room, see the empty table bolted to the dirt floor. Empty of victims, thank heavens. No tortures in progress today.

  There is, however, a thud as if someone kicked something hard.

  Right at the entrance, I glance back at Will, so close on my tail his chest almost touches my back and his chin hovers just over my head. He nods and I rush into the room, weapon raised.

  A blond head faces the far wall, the guy’s hand hidden inside a hollow space.

  “Freeze,” Will yells and the Collective agent spins around, blade raised. Will runs at him, stun-mace ready to swing.

  I freeze. “Xane?”

  Chapter Nine

  Mae

  Blue light emanates from a device on the torture table. It’s a light thrower, just like the one Cynnie used a few months ago in the science lab. And on the wall, the tiny wooden door has swung open. Whatever was in that sneaky hole is now gone. And that must be why Xane’s here. He doesn’t look the same as when I last saw him and not just because I know who I am now. He’s somehow bigger, maybe it’s more muscle or maybe it’s a trick of the light which bounces off his blond curls. They are definitely longer and more spiraled.

  Will swings his stun-mace and my Collective friend ducks.

  “Stop,” I order. “Stop. Will, that’s Xane. He’s friendly.”

  But Will doesn’t listen. The muscles across his back ripple under his snug T-shirt as he swings the weapon again, this time right at Xane’s side.

  Xane jumps to the left, his hair flopping against his cheek, and his eyes connect with mine. “Call him off.”

  “I’m trying. Will!”

  Xane’s blade drops to the dirt floor with a dull thud as he raises his hands in the air. “I don’t want to fight.”

  But Will still doesn’t stop. He ploughs his fist into the smaller guy’s shoulder, slamming Xane against the wall only an inch from the disgusting array of torture weapons. Chunks of earth rain from the ceiling as Will glares down into Xane’s face, who grunts and looks to me again, pleading, “Anamae.”

  Will pushes against him, bending a little to lean his shoulder into Xane’s. “Who are you?”

  I take a step closer, eyeing up the boy I trained with. He’s dressed in the full agent get up; black pants and a matching top that I know from wearing one just like it is like velvety leather, and an empty star on his left sleeve indicates his novice rank. He might be a friend, but he’s still Collective and unlike Cynnie I don’t know his thoughts on the founders’ vision. “That’s a lot of faith you had in me, to drop your blade like that. Will could have killed you.”

  “You wouldn’t have let him.” Xane smiles and an ache for Cynnie bursts into my chest. Boy, I’ve missed her. I look around the dugout torture chamber; as Xane’s partner she should be here, agents never travel alone. But he’s the only one.

  Will growls and another thud follows. “Who are you?”

  “He’s all right, Will.”

  Xane’s eyes narrow, his chin lifts just a little.

  “He’s a friend of Jax’s,” I say, “and mine.”

  With a last shove against the wall, Will lets his hand drop, but doesn’t step back, or lower his mace. Ignoring him, Xane rubs his shoulder, his gaze probing mine. “Why are you here?”

  “Why are you?” Will counters.

  “I’ve got this, Will.”

  Xane’s head tilts to the side imperceptibly. “Does anyone know you’re here, Anamae?”

  Seems like an odd question to ask and I’m not sure where he’s coming from, but it makes my sixth sense fire up. Something’s way off.

  “Where’s Josh?” Xane asks.

  Will raises his mace to the other boy’s face leaving barely a finger space between the weapon and creamy skin. “Who?”

  “Jax.” I hold a hand up to Will. “He’s not here, Xane.”

  The agent stiffens and I can’t get a read on his body language, because he keeps flipping from happy to wary to something else.

  “Does he know what you’re doing?” Xane’s face twists as if he swallowed a bad taste.

  “He’d be right here beside me if he knew.” Two can play elusive games. “Where’s Cynnie?”

  “Not here.”

  “Why?”

  “I think you know.”

  My mind races, searching for the answer to why Cynnie isn’t here: Xane’s the trap placed to bring me in; he’s about to commence torturing someone; he’s in cahoots with Manvyke. The torture devices still hang on the wall, but I don’t think he’d ever do anything bad. Not Xane, who was always kind to me, and who Cynnie trusts. Surely he doesn’t believe in the founders’ ideals. But none of that answers why he’s here partnerless. Unless he’s the prisoner.

  I shake my head, then a moment later it spins as all the blood drains to my pounding heart. “She’s hurt. Oh god, no.”

  My hand rises to clutch my chest, right over my heart. Cynnie. My friend: sweet, kind, Cynnie, another casualty of this war. Her bouncy curls and wide smile flash behind my eyes a
nd I swallow.

  “She’s okay.” Xane’s voice lowers to a soft, caring tone. “Cynnie isn’t hurt.”

  I take in his words with a long, calming breath and exhale. “That’s a relief.”

  “You really don’t know, do you?” Xane says, his voice still soft.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, Xane, stop dancing around whatever it is.”

  His attention flicks over my shoulder toward the doorway, then to Will, who’s still up in his face. Whatever it is, he doesn’t seem to want to tell me, but why? What could possibly be so important he needs to hide it?

  Lilly steps up beside me, her hand extended and Xane grabs it before I even have time to blink. “I’m Lilly,” she says, shaking his hand. Will still doesn’t give.

  “Xane.”

  “Yeah, I gathered. That’s Will. We’re Mae and Jax’s friends.”

  Xane frowns.

  “Her. This chick. Anamae.” Lilly gestures toward me with a thumb.

  Xane smiles, his big friendly smile that I remember from my time in elite training. The clenching inside me loosens.

  “So, now we all know each other you can spill whatever secret you’re hiding.” She drops his hand and Xane eyes the door, stiffening again. I’m not sure what’s making him nervous, but I brace myself too. If he’s nervous and he’s Collective, that doesn’t bode well for us.

  “You didn’t know I’d be here, did you? I mean, not me specifically, but someone.” His voice strains with tension, his words seem carefully chosen.

  “Please trust me,” I say.

  He smiles stiffly and whispers, “I do.”

  Okay, whatever’s going on here, maybe he’s nervous of getting caught telling us. Because the only other obvious answer is that he’s lying, but that doesn’t seem right. I got to know him reasonably well and he’s definitely more like Cynnie than Nik. Curious as I am, there’s no point in pushing him for an explanation, so I change tack. “What’s Josh’s father been up to since we left?”

  “It’s weird.” Xane’s thick shoulders slump and his voice drops to a low pitch. “He’s just about fallen off the radar.”

  My pulse picks up as I home in on him. “Really weird. Can we talk?”

  Will finally gives Xane a little space, moving back to my side. It’s not like he releases his weapon though. Nor does my Collective friend doesn’t acknowledge the tiny sign of trust.

  “Not now. Meet me away from here,” he says.

  I nod, understanding he can’t be caught giving us info about a patriarchal councilor. We need somewhere safer than Collective territory. “What about . . .”

  “Cynnie said there’s a tree house,” Xane says.

  “When?” Lilly asks.

  “This time tomorrow.”

  I nod and with one last friendly smile, he ports out.

  Will curses into my mind. “Frickin’ hell, Mae. Can we trust him? I know you said we could, but it we—” He drags a hand through his hair then kicks the dirt floor. “He could set us up. We could be captured or killed. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “You don’t have to come,” I snap, but he’s right. I should have asked for somewhere more public. I walk toward the door, snatching Xane’s tech light off the torture table as I pass. Not sure why he left it, but the resistance can use all the tech we can get, so I’ll take it. Nothing’s left for us to search; the hollowed-out chamber is just dirt walls, floor and that horrible table. The one where Al—

  The sound of Will kicking the floor again echoes through the dungeon.

  “Time to go.” Lilly doesn’t sound regretful at all. Guess I’m the only dumb one.

  We sneak out of the council building just as easily as we snuck in. Not a soul wanders about, nor are any lights on. The glowing blue stone makes it easier to see, casting an eerie light through the tunnels and halls. When we exit into the alley and climb into Beau’s truck, I swear we breathe a unified sigh of relief. Will doesn’t give Lilly a chance to drive, just slides in behind the wheel without a word, his entire body tense. Even her withering look doesn’t make him move, he merely holds his hand out until she drops the keys into it. Great, he’s in a mood.

  That mood lingers the entire ride home, making the twenty minute trip feel twice that long. Lilly never speaks up, even though she was just as quick as I was to agree. I doubt it’s a trap. Xane isn’t a lackey. The way he argued back and forth in Collective History classes is proof that he thinks for himself. Even so, I wrack my mind for ways to get out of the meet, but Xane’s got info we need. Info that may lead us to my mother. Heck, he can probably tell us if she’s alive, if he’s seen her around.

  When we reach the safe house, Will and I go straight upstairs to the beanbag room where he glowers at me from his perch on the windowsill. Lilly must have ducked by the kitchen, ’cause she shows up five minutes later with a stash of chocolate. And Will still hasn’t spoken. She tosses the bars onto the floor in a pile, right next to the stack of our discarded tech. Still no one speaks; the only sound is the crinkling of wrappers. She grabs a Mars Bar and sinks into a beanbag, tearing it open while Will stares out the window, hands in the pockets of his jeans, thumbs resting over the top. His brooding pose is almost enough to make me apologize, but I won’t. There’s no way out of this now. I can’t get word to Xane to change the location and the more I think about it the more I trust him. Surely it will work out okay. My fingers fidget over the tech light and my mind races ahead to the questions I need to ask him.

  After what feels like a long time, the rising sun throws an orange cast to the light shining in the window. It’s been quiet for so long, Lilly must have fallen asleep. Not Will though. He turns, his eyes locking onto mine. “He didn’t have to make the meeting place so close to their territory. It’s a bit risky, don’t you think?”

  A slight rustle of the beanbag and I know Lilly’s not asleep like I’d assumed. I sigh. “Risky, yes, but I don’t think it’s a real threat to us. Xane’s a good guy.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I trust Xane and I have to go, Will. Something weird is going on with Manvyke and that could be our clue. And if it’s not . . . well, Xane has insider knowledge. Knowledge we need.” I look him dead in the eye. “If Jax was here he’d vouch for him and I think we should trust him.”

  “He’s Collective.” Will blows out a frustrated breath and tosses himself into Lilly’s beanbag, springing her up. Lilly climbs to her feet and pauses by the closed door. Will pushes himself out of the bag too.

  “I think it’s worth the risk,” she says. “There’s so much he can tell us. And I didn’t get a bad vibe.”

  “A vibe? Are you for real?” Will slices her a glare.

  Lilly crosses her arms over her chest, grasping her biceps in a defensive way.

  That’s it. Brooding and ordering me around I can handle, but him taking this out on Lilly is too much. I’ve had it with his mood.

  “Stop it, Will. Just go to bed. We can talk about this again later.”

  Lilly pulls the door open and slips out. I only notice because I catch movement from the corner of my eye while I glare at Will’s blazing expression. His huge body mere inches from mine, towers so close I can feel his chest rise and fall with short, deep breaths. His feet planted wide, his hands fisted inside each other.

  “There was no need for that,” I say.

  “And there’s no need for reckless stupidity either. Haven’t you learned anything, Mae?”

  His blue eyes hold mine, piercing my very soul with their intensity.

  “I’ve learned that I don’t need you treating me like some child that needs protection, Will.” I set my jaw tightly.

  “I give up.” He throws his hands into the air and yanks the door open. “I’m tired of caring.”

  The door slams and I shout, “I’m tired of it, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mae

  Sprawled in the beanbag, my legs cramped and back aching, I blink my eyes open.
My mouth feels like something curled up and died inside it, no doubt the aftereffect of gorging on chocolate before I fell asleep. I swipe the back of my hand over my damp mouth then turn my arm over. My watch reads ten sixteen. I need real sleep to get rid of the pounding in my head. Barely able to open my eyes, I climb the stairs to our dorm-style room and Ace appears at my side, plodding along with a head-lolling gait. He follows me all the way in where he jumps up on Jax’s still perfectly made bed, settling on the patch of black hair he’s shed there over the past few days. Lilly’s passed out on her back, still fully dressed and Will’s upside down on his bed so he’s facing the door. One of his eyes opens.

  “I’m sorry. I might be tired of caring, but I do care,” he says.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and tug my sneakers off, too tired to argue.

  He rolls onto his back, extending an arm. “C’mere.”

  With a sigh, I climb onto his bed and rest my head on his chest like we’ve done so many times before. His arm curls around my shoulders and yet again I miss our easy friendship. The one when we never fought, when neither of us had to worry about caring. It just was what it was and it was perfect.

  Sleep overcomes me in the comfort of Will’s arms.

  ***

  Slightly groggy, I roll over and rub my eyes, stretching out cramped legs. My vision focuses on Lilly two beds over, instead of the usual one bed.

  That’s right. I turn onto my back and I’m alone on his bed. I shouldn’t have lain down here earlier, but we both needed the connection. That doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty, even though there’s still no word of Jax. And that pushes the guilt away, because surely if he cared he’d be back, or would’ve sent word. His silence can’t mean anything worse . . . but my gut twists, because he could have crashed that motorbike, or run into agents.

  Crap, I can’t think like that. He is okay. Just running from me. Twisting my wrist over to see my watch, the little hand sits just before two . . . p.m., I’d guess, by the natural light in the air.

  We’re supposed to be on duty—or rather, at class. I tug my shoes on and smooth my hair into a ponytail then I spot a note perched on my bed, MAE printed on the folded paper in Will’s neat handwriting. I reach across and grab it, flick the paper open and read; AG, I told your students you and Lilly are sick, so they get the day off. Rest up. You’ll need to be at your best tonight. WA.