Never Forgotten

by Stacey Nash

  Mae’s scream shreds my concentration.

  I sprint, my heart hammering against my ribs. That sounded like something went wrong and if it did . . . don’t think it. I bolt down the hall right to the end in only a few long strides. As I burst into the room my gaze darts over Manvkye, then Annie, and zeroes in on Mae. On the look of agony in the tension of her mouth. On the blood dripping from her fingertips.

  She’s unarmed and my father towers over her, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her stare threatens more than her bare, bleeding hands can deliver.

  The man is crazy; no knowing what he’ll do.

  Before I’ve taken three steps, Nik growls a threat behind me and it takes every ounce of strength I have to spin around instead of running to Mae. He clasps the staff/sword in his hands like a baton, one fist around either end and he holds it out horizontally at chest height.

  Shit.

  I move toward my brother like I’m approaching an unpredictable animal, and the way he bares his teeth and jabs the staff forward then back makes him look exactly like a savage one.

  That thing’s frickin’ dangerous. It could work in any way; I doubt he even knows how to use it properly. Hell, we don’t even know what its secondary power is. As much as launching myself at him in a violent attack appeals, accidentally turning myself to liquid or something even worse wouldn’t be the wisest move. Unease coils like venom inside my belly, and I take another step forward, eying it off for any possible triggers. The smile that twists Nik’s face is pure arrogance.

  “Seems we have three things you want now, little brother.” He raises his brows and the challenge awakens my pulse. “Let’s see which one you value most.”

  Bastard.

  The sound that comes from Mae is twisted with pain, but I don’t turn around. She’s the most important in this room, but I’m not stupid enough to fall for Nik’s trick. If I go to her, he’ll use that thing against the both of us.

  I rush him.

  My hands snap around the sword that is a staff in the space between his to get control. Unprepared for my assault Nik loses ground; only a few steps. He pushes against the weapon trying to twist it down. I don’t let him. It’s a struggle, but I hold it steady. Nik’s lips pull back from his teeth and he shoves. Hard. This time I lose ground, my feet shuffling to hold purchase. Sometimes fighting him feels like fighting myself; I know exactly what he’s going to do, but I can’t block it. He’s too quick and strong. Getting this away from him isn’t easy, but the challenge fires my blood and, pulling strength from deep within, I shove, forcing Nik back. He pushes against the sword, against me, and I shove again, harder. Squinting against the light reflecting off the window behind him, I know if I can get him pinned, I’ve got this.

  Mae screams again and her mother shouts. Something twangs in my chest. I have no clue what they said, it’s all noise and it’s damn hard not to let it distract me. But I know, instinctively, exactly where she is and that she’s in pain. I can almost feel it in the air.

  “That’s it. Finish her off,” Nik growls, his eyes flicking over me.

  What the hell? No way. I glance over my shoulder and Mae’s on the ground, kicking and thrashing under Manvyke’s hold, with blood streaked all over her and the white tiled floor. “Save Mom,” she yells.

  Hell no, I’ll save her ass before her mother’s.

  My back slams against the ground, leaving no air in my lungs. I wheeze, but nothing comes in. Pain radiates through my back and my head is spinning. I need to get up or they’ll kill her. I won’t let that happen. I need her like the earth needs the sun, but it’s not just about me. I drag a foot underneath myself and push, but my head spins so much the room blurs. Frickin’ Nik.

  His fist slams into my jaw and knocks me back for six. A string of curses muddy my thoughts and this time I don’t care about the dizziness, I jump to my feet, head reeling and heart pounding for vengeance. But I’ve lost my blade. Panic should twist inside me, yet it doesn’t.

  The staff jams against my chest and I’m pushed back, Nik’s face so close his nose almost touches mine. Then bam, my back smacks into a solid wall and every muscle in my body spasms in intense pain.

  I collapse, tiny spasms wracking my body as the floor meets my face, my shoulder, my hip. The pain continues like it’s never going to stop and I can’t even see Mae; my vision is gone, swallowed by the color red. The breaths I drag in burn, but this pain can’t last. I need to help Mae before it’s too late. Something’s off inside of me though, my heart feels like it has taken up a brand new beat out of sync with the one it has always kept.

  Inhaling so deep my lungs sear, I repeat the breath, then once again. Need to clear this damn head and stop my heart doing weird shit. But a boot drives into my gut and I can’t breathe. It hits me again. I can’t breathe. Then comes another kick.

  If someone had yanked my lungs and my stomach out through my back it would hurt less. Not enough air in this room. I need goddamned air.

  I crunch my screaming muscles, ready for a fourth blow that doesn’t come. A crash, and a thwack like the meaty thud of flesh hitting flesh comes instead. Blinking, my vision finally clears and thank Theras, Lilly’s beating the crap out of Nik. Will steps in and lands a solid punch on my brother’s jaw. Spit flies. Dragging in a painful breath, I haul myself to my feet. This is my problem, not Will’s. I won’t pull him into it. I snatch the sword off the floor where it just fell from Nik’s grip and stand right behind Will, my eyes level with his shoulders. “I got this,” I tell him, “help Mae.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I said, I got this.”

  And I do. Will steps back and Nik’s attention flicks to the staff/sword in my hand, the only warning before he snatches the end and yanks. I swing it around and Nik’s feet screech along the tiled floor as I push him back and don’t stop until he slams into the floor-to-ceiling window. Jamming the staff up under his chin, I effectively pin him to the glass. Nik’s chest heaves and I can feel the whoosh of my own breath. I could finish him right now, but I won’t be reduced to murder. My brother was a good person once.

  His knuckles whiten with the strain of his hands gripping the sword. Our stares lock and for a brief moment he feels like my brother again. Sorrow, pain, protection reflects back into my gaze, but only for a moment, then it hardens into something worse than the nastiest sibling rivalry: challenging hatred. He reefs the staff away, but my grip holds.

  The very end of it slams into the glass window.

  Cold air rushes my cheeks and it’s like time slows.

  The reflection vanished as if the glass just disappeared.

  A look of sheer terror steals across Nik’s face, then his mouth opens wider than a black hole.

  Someone reefs me back.

  A scream of horror rips out of me.

  Then my brother is gone.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Mae

  My heart jumps into my throat when Nik falls from the dissolved window. At least that’s what seems to have happened; it just disappeared. Poof, no more. Is it wrong that I’m glad he’s gone? Yes. But I can’t help it. That jerk is responsible for so much. Cynnie’s beaten face, Jax’s ill temper, Xane . . . damn, now I can’t find out where he took Xane. What he did to him, or if my friend’s okay.

  A shout comes from Jax, a direct mirror of the one still tearing from Manvyke; pure horror. Maybe I’m not so glad after all. With the councilor distracted, I roll out of his reach, pain radiating through every part of me with my sliced palm the epicenter. Each ragged breath is felt in every muscle. A groan slips through my lips. Climbing to my feet hurts almost as much and my arms twist around my stomach trying to stifle the feeling that hurts so bad.

  Jax drops to his knees, facing the window that’s no longer there and I’m torn between him and Annie. The desire to race to his side and throw my arms around him, tell him it will all be okay, is brutally strong. But as Will walks toward him, I turn back to my mother, who still sits on that stupid
stool like a canary on its perch. I circle around the glass cage even though I already know there’s no way to open it. I can’t find a door now, any easier than I could before.

  Her gaze follows me and I whisper, “How do I open this thing?”

  “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Get out now while you have the chance.”

  “Just shut up,” I tell her. “Shut the hell up and let me get you out of here.”

  Why she’s so desperate to stay here is a mystery I’m not unraveling now. After a moment of silence, she says, “The power shuts off somehow and then this section,” her voice sounds a little thick as she points at the opposite side to where I stand, “slides up.”

  Using the hand that doesn’t sting like hell, I search for the power switch as Manvyke’s outburst fades, but doesn’t completely stop. Surely I’ve been searching for ages; I need to find it quickly. We might outnumber Manvyke four to one now, but we’ve got to get out of here before his sorrow turns to anger or numbers won’t mean a thing.

  Where the hell is this freaking switch? Nothing here other than the glass bars, and running my hand over the cage to search would risk the knee-buckling pain. Or . . . maybe the switch is not on the actual structure. I scan the wall nearby. There has got to be something there, but there’s nothing visible. This is hopeless. I run my hands along the wall.

  A whooshing gush of air pushes against me and pulse hammering, I swing back around.

  It vanished.

  Just like the window, the entire cage is gone, only now a milky haze hangs in the air. I rush straight to my mother and haul her to her feet. Her arms ensnare me, but now isn’t the time for reunions. We’ve got to get out of here. I seek out Jax, and Will’s still with him, both of them just across the other side of the cage with that ancient-looking staff in Jax’s hand. It must be the other key. But where the heck is Lilly? Jax’s gaze latches onto mine and he stands straighter, tipping his head toward the door. He’s right; we need to go, now. But we need Lilly and there she is, crouched over Manvyke, her hand on his back. My breath jams and I just about choke on the moisture in my mouth.

  Jax clears his throat and she looks up from comforting our enemy. Whatever she’s doing, it’s the last thing I thought I’d ever see; Lilly showing compassion to Garrett’s killer. Her eyes widen then flick toward the step up to the hall before locking on mine. It’s not comfort Lilly’s providing, but distraction. Well, that makes a lot more sense.

  Glancing at my companions, I mimic Lilly’s eye roll. They must get what I mean because Will and Jax both move toward the steps. But my mother stops, a slight frown creasing her brow. Whatever the heck it is, I don’t care. Lilly and I have this under control, she needs to move, so I shoo her forward. Jax’s eyes meet mine again and his expression mirrors my mother’s. What the heck? Widening my eyes and jutting my chin, I hope he knows that I’m signaling: Go, get her to safety. And thank god, he understands: Jax ushers her out of the room, his brows still drawn, but Will doesn’t budge. Not until Jax whispers in his ear, and Will scowls. Come on, you guys. I’m more than capable. Move it! Jaw set and shoulders tense, they both disappear and no sooner than the boys have her out of the room, Manvyke lifts his head up, his eyes wild.

  Holy cow.

  Lilly bolts straight to the door, her hand snatching my arm to pull me along with her. As we run down the corridor, she tries to port, but it doesn’t work. We don’t even move. The bands may as well just be the sweatbands they look like.

  Manvyke roars.

  My pulse pounds in my ears and I don’t let go of Lilly’s hand as we run right out of that apartment, to the waiting elevator. Jax’s arm blocks the door from closing and the second Lilly and I are in he removes it and the door snaps shut just as Manvyke bursts into the tiny foyer.

  “Try porting,” I yell at Lilly. “Try it again.”

  She grabs my hand and I take my mother’s despite the stinging pain and bloody mess of my right palm. The black nothing of slipping through space has never felt so welcome. Relief has never been sweeter. We’re actually safe.

  We land in the port room and I jump back off the mat to make room for Jax and Will. My mother coos, raising my wounded hand, but my attention is locked on the empty port mart.

  They should be right behind us.

  Time stretches into infinity and anxiety pulses through my heart. They should be here already.

  “Anamae, we need to deal with this hand.”

  I tug it away. I’m not leaving this spot, not until they’re here and maybe not even then. I need to make sure Jax is okay after what just happened to his brother, because he sure didn’t sound all right. The soft hum of people talking isn’t enough to drag my attention away. It must have been at least three minutes now and they still haven’t ported in. Something’s gone wrong. Maybe the port band didn’t work, maybe they decided to tie up a loose end. Oh, dear god, I hope Manvyke didn’t catch them. My chest tightens and it’s just about time for a brown paper bag to breath into, when finally the boys blink into the room.

  Jax flicks Will’s hand off his shoulder, his gaze flying to me. My breath gusts out and my entire body feels like the strings holding it together snap completely. His stare holds firm; strong, intense and all Jax: guarded. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but relief fills me, this I can deal with.

  Without breaking our eye contact he crosses the room, stopping short before he reaches me. His green eyes drop to my hand, his brows draw tight creating a crinkle between them. I thought he couldn’t care less about me anymore, but maybe, just maybe I was wrong.

  “What happened?” he says.

  “Yeah?” Suddenly Will’s at my side, pulling my hand into his and examining it, just like my mother did. Then, like a wall going up, Jax’s expression slackens to indifferent. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “Well?” Will asks.

  “Nothing. I grabbed the wrong end of a blade because I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Come on, you need Martha.” Will pushes me toward the door.

  I pull my hand back. The cut isn’t so bad it can’t wait. What I need is Jax, not Martha. I have so much to tell him and if it doesn’t happen now, it might be too late. I can’t lose him again, not now that he’s back. If he thinks I’m safe . . . I just . . . what if he leaves again?

  Annie stands near the window looking cornered by Beau, her shoulders still stiff and chin still high. I can’t think of her as Mom. She hasn’t been a mother to me since the day she disappeared out of our lives. That’s something I need to figure out, but she’s safe and that’s what’s important for now. All the rest can wait until later; right now, Jax is my priority.

  Before I’ve finished scanning the room I know.

  I’m too late. Jax is gone.

  ***

  Will hovers by my side the whole time Martha sees to my ruined hand, asking her a million questions about how bad it is, how it will recover, if I’ll lose the use of any tendons, because some were apparently severed. The cut was much deeper than I’d realized, slicing diagonally across my palm. So much for the whole palm reading thing, if I was that way inclined. My lifeline is cut right in half and I’m not even game to peek at my loveline. It’s probably nonexistent.

  Martha uses some weird liquid of Collective origins, instead of stitches, force feeds me a disgusting concoction which she says will help with the pain—personally, I’m a little skeptical—and instructs me to get some rest. After thanking her, I leave the common room and head upstairs with Will beside me, still prattling on about something. Quite frankly I’m too tired to keep up. Jax left again and I’m not sure how to cope with that. Or with the hollowness hanging inside of me that wasn’t there last time. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized my mistake. Will is my best friend and he’ll never be more than that, but Jax is . . . not.

  Something jabs my arm.

  “Earth to Anamae, are you there?” Will asks.

  “Huh?” I blink and roll my eyes around to clear them. “Sorry, I think I’
m already asleep.”

  He chuckles, drawing me out of my daze; we’re already halfway up the stairs and not only is my vision not clear, neither is my head. It’s a little foggy, like everything swims in a pleasant, sleepy haze. Probably the effects of Martha’s brew.

  “It’s not important anyway,” he says.

  I’m such a jerk. I turn to him as we reach the top of the steps. “Of course it’s important. What were you saying?”

  He shrugs. “I was thinking about that staff—amazing how it just disintegrated the glass.”

  That’s what he was talking about? I hold his glance, but his slips away after a moment. He’s lying. “Yeah, it was pretty amazing.”

  As much as I hated Nik, the image of him falling makes me feel sick. Death isn’t pleasant, even if it happens to your worst enemy.

  “Smart of Jax to use it on that strange cage Manvyke had your mom in.”

  I push open the door to the dorm. “That’s what happened? I thought I must have found the switch.”

  He raises his eyebrows and jabs me again. “I know you’re clever, but no. It wasn’t you.”

  “Whatever,” I whisper. It’s still the middle of the night and people are asleep. My sights slide straight to Jax’s empty bed and I shouldn’t be disappointed, but a tiny part of me was clinging to the hope that he would be here already, sleeping off our huge night. It was silly; I’ve given him no reason to stay and he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to be here. A sigh slips out of me and pulling the door to, I make my way to my bed, glimpsing Cynnie and her friend Harris, who both sleep peacefully. I have to tell her about Xane . . .

  Will grabs my hand and pulls me back around. “I know you love him and I’m okay with that. I just want you to be happy.”

  I sigh again. Everything’s so darn complicated. “I want you to be happy too.”

  Will holds my stare. “I will be, Mae.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Jax

  So many emotions tear through me that I need to get out of here. Beau stares at me on the way out and I know he wants to talk, but I can’t right now. He’ll have to wait. With no other choice, because I can’t take it with me, I thrust the sword into Lilly’s hands. “Give this to Beau. Tell him it’s dangerous and needs to be under lock and key.”